Crowley manoeuvred the last clump of his noodles into his mouth with the cheap chopsticks. He and Aziraphale were sitting in the back room of Aziraphale's book shop enjoying some Chinese takeaway. Crowley himself was particularly enjoying watching Aziraphale struggle with the implements, especially as he found them so easy. He'd learnt how to use them last time he was in China - one of the Mongol invasions. Which one now? Chap with the bad breath and fur boots...what was his name? One of the Khans, anyway. It had been awhile ago, but he hadn't lost the knack. He leant forward and plucked a cashew nut from Aziraphale's plate.
"That was mine," said Aziraphale reproachfully, unangel-like irritation beginning to show in his cerulean eyes.
"You weren't eating it," pointed out Crowley reasonably.
"Only because I can't get the hang of these...bothersome implements."
"It's a knack," said Crowley. "You hold the bottom one like so, and the top one... No, like this. Oh, angel..." he added, as Aziraphale threw the chopsticks into his dinner in frustration.
"I give up. It's too hard. Can't I go get a fork?"
"For someone with angelic patience..." said Crowley. He stood behind Aziraphale's chair and bent over him, folding the chopsticks into Aziraphale's grasp patiently. He wrapped his hand around Aziraphale's and guided him. "See? Like this."
"I...understand," said Aziraphale. He could feel Crowley's breath against his neck, and it was affecting him in ways he wasn't prepared to admit. He was sure he was blushing.
"See? Not so hard, is it?" asked Crowley, moving back to his seat.
"No," murmured Aziraphale. He was trying to keep his mind off the way Crowley's leg had jostled his own while Crowley was sitting back down.
"Learn something new every millennia, eh angel?" Crowley said grinning.
"Indeed."
"It was your idea to try out the new Three Jolly Luck Take-Away Fish Bar(1), you know," said Crowley. "You can hardly blame me for your technical difficulties."
He yawned and stretched his legs under the table, brushing Aziraphale's calf in the process. Aziraphale gave a strangled sound and dropped his chopsticks.
"I think I've had enough. I'll...I'll just go and get the fortune cookies, shall I?" He got up, almost upsetting his wine in the process. Crowley smiled like a snake.
Aziraphale laid the white plate on the table, cookies delicately arranged. Crowley raised his eyebrows.
"Seven?" That's an odd number."
"'S a perfectly good number."
"But not divisible by two," pointed out Crowley patiently.
"We'll just have to share the last one," said Aziraphale absently, not noticing how Crowley's wicked smile widened at this remark.
Aziraphale reached for a cookie and broke it open. There was a short pause while he read the fortune, and then he looked at Crowley. "Really, my dear."
"What?" asked Crowley, attempting a look of injured innocence.
"Dear boy, you can't seriously expect me to believe that these are the fortunes as they were originally written."
"What does it say?"
Aziraphale gave a delicate cough. "'Virginity can be cured.'"
"Probably just a bored worker having a joke," suggested Crowley.
"What does yours say?" asked Aziraphale, one perfect eyebrow arched in disbelief.
"'Love is a matter of chemistry. Sex is a matter of physics.' Go on, your turn."
Aziraphale took another cookie and glared meaningfully at the two cookies that huddled closest to Crowley on the plate. "'Sex is only dirty if it's done right.' Really, Crowley, I don't think..."
"My turn," interrupted Crowley, breaking open his next cookie. He frowned slightly in bewilderment as he read the fortune.
"What is it?" asked an amused Aziraphale.
"'Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.' But that's not right..." he paused. "You tampered with the fortune, didn't you?"
"Fair's fair," said Aziraphale. "You tampered with the others. Let's hear your last one."
"'There is no difference between a wise man and a fool when he falls in love.'" Aziraphale suddenly wouldn't meet Crowley's eyes, and he watched Aziraphale intently as the latter broke open his final cookie. Only one lonely cookie remained on the plate now.
"'There is no remedy for sex except more sex.' Really, my dear, the subtleties of your approach leave rather a lot to be desired."
"There is such a thing as being too subtle, angel. Perhaps you should try being more forceful." Crowley retorted, but his heart wasn't in it. He could have sworn he saw Aziraphale blush. "All right. You want me to be more subtle? How about this?" He leant forward and brushed his lips against the angel's in the softest suggestion of a kiss.
Aziraphale whimpered slightly, his eyelids fluttering in surprise. Curling an arm around the back of Crowley's neck, he drew him closer for a deep kiss. Aziraphale was the one to break the kiss. He looked into Crowley's eyes for a long moment before the sheer enormity of what he had done hit him in the solar plexus. Fear and desire and confusion shone from the angel's eyes as he started to back away from Crowley. He looked at him as if he were...well, a demon.
"Angel," said Crowley. He paused for a moment, and then added more quietly, "'Zira?"
Aziraphale looked at Crowley warily. He seemed ready to bolt at any minute, like a frightened deer. Crowley felt an inexplicable pain in his heart; a sensory organ that had been unused for quite some time. He realised he was terrified that he may have just lost Aziraphale.
"We haven't finished the fortune cookies," he said, feeling like a fool.
Aziraphale approached the table again, every muscle tensed for flight. Crowley picked up the last fortune cookie and snapped it in half. Two pieces of paper fluttered onto the plate. Wordlessly, they each picked one up and read it.
Something of Aziraphale's old demeanour came creeping back. "What does your say?"
"'Love is a hole in the heart.'" He gave Aziraphale a bleak smile and leant forward. "How about you?"
Aziraphale gave Crowley a wide, enigmatic smile.
"What?" asked Crowley. "What does yours say?"
Aziraphale leaned even closer. "'Love your neighbour, but don't get caught,'" he breathed, and kissed Crowley again.
(1) So *that's* where it went when it disappeared after opening...to SoHo. And serve it right.