Blasphemy!
By K M BDisclaimer: not mine.
Author's Note: written for the springkink prompt Crowley/Aziraphale: Blasphemy - "Of course you had to think that having sex in a library is wrong, but not in a church." History buffs, suspend all belief ye who enter.
Father O'Brien paused outside the refectory doors of St. Paul's Cathedral, quite sure he heard voices. He pressed his balding head against the heavy oak, just to be certain he wasn't imagining things like he would in 1666 when he will—literally—swear someone had called for him. He won't have meant to tip that candle over. Agnes had already seen it all, centuries later.
He heard a dull thunk, and then:
"Of course, you would think that having sex in a library is wrong, but—Aziraphale—a church?"
"Are you actually complaining about what we're about to do?"
A pause, and a shuffling sound. "On second thought, as long as you don't move that hand of yours—no. Not at all."
Muffled: "Mmm, I thought so." Then: "Ouch! Kindly move your elbow away from my eye, if you don't mind!"
"Sorry. Though it is unholy what you can do with that tongue, angel. Sure you're not Falling?"
A stilted sigh. "Perhaps, but if I am, why don't you just be quiet and let me."
A soft, stuttering moan. "F-fair enough."
Blasphemers! Father O'Brien, eyes wide in shock at the vileness he was hearing, rattled the handle of the refectory door, which was always open as it possessed no lock. He jerked back a moment later, stupefied.
The door held fast, divinely bolted in place. A serpentine snicker could be heard coming from its decorative keyhole as Father O'Brien swore it winked at him.
end.