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Five times Aziraphale and Crowley saw each other dancing and one time they danced together

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley danced around each other for ages, but only danced with each other a scant few times.

Rating: G

The first time Crowley saw Aziraphale dancing it was almost like getting a glimpse of Heaven again. Which might be overly dramatic, but he had never been one to shy away from a bit of drama. In fact he would argue that it was an almost necessity of surviving the Fall and not become a total prick about it, to become dramatic.

It was in the medieval times, though exactly when Crowley always had trouble telling. After a while all the swords and shields tended to blend together. In honor of his service the Knight Aziraphale was invited to a ball. Crowley, of course, was not invited but still found his way in.

There was the soft glow of candles. Everyone covered in silks and long flowing banners. Mead was pouring and there was the lovely sound of bards playing their hardest.

Likely there were other people there, but once Crowley saw Aziraphale dressed in gold and white silk nothing else mattered. There was the most gentle smile on his face as he danced, like he was enamoured with the very act of moving. It felt like light itself when he gazed upon it. No matter the partner, the angel just smiled with a dazed look on his face. For a moment Crowley thought about being the one to step in and try to dance, but then he realized that as a member of the enemy’s army on several levels that might just lead to a fight.

And in no way did Crowley want to be the person to ruin that gentle smile with a fight. So he left and walked out into the warm, starry night.
___

The first time Aziraphale saw Crowley dancing it was significantly later, well after the invention of electric instruments. Perhaps the demon had danced earlier, but he was simply so good at hiding it that Aziraphale never found out.

The night was hot and sweaty, everyone packed way too close together in some shady basement. Though Aziraphale did love the amount of make-up on their face he did not in fact love the looks they gave him as he strode past them in a suit looking for his unlikely companion. They looked like they wanted to beat him up just for existing and likely would have if not for a carefully timed miracle.

From the stage the instruments let out a positively feral growl. Then all at once the dance floor was screaming. Writhing. A man with scarlet hair tried to punch Aziraphale and instead missed and his a green haired woman behind him. The green haired woman pushed him back into Aziraphale and he smelled the most acrid smell of cheap beer and sweat.

With a groan Aziraphale shoved him off into the mass of bodies where he got swallowed by the sheer amount of limbs.

Another body met his, black leather colliding with his tweed shoulder.

“What are you doing here, angel?” asked the body.

Aziraphale turned and was shocked to see Crowley. Well, not entirely since he was looking for him here, but moreso shocked at the way he looked. Black leather collar with spikes on it, red hair up in a series of spikes like the statue of liberty, torn up leather jacket with a T-shirt that only barely covered the important parts, and leather pants. It was a good look on him, but also unexpected.

A bottle was flung near his head, reminding him of the danger, “Oh, ah, yes. Well. I was hoping to see you and talk about...” Aziraphale looked out into the sea of people and bright lights as the stage wailed. “Never mind, it can wait. You are busy.”

Crowley whirled about with a positively feral look on his face as a man tried to punch him and pushed the man towards someone else, “You sure? Not really doing much today. Not really.” There was a wicked laugh at the end of that statement that sent shivers up Aziraphale’s spine that he wasn’t sure were good or bad.

“Ah, no. Really. “ Suddenly the room felt too close, too tight. Aziraphale had to leave. In the blink of the eye he was out on the street, feeling the autumn air on his skin. That had been rather too close for comfort.
___

The second time Crowley saw Aziraphale dancing it was several hundred years later. In the 1800s, Aziraphale had taken on a rather usual profession as a dancer on stage. He wasn’t very good, his styles were all far too old, but he had enthusiasm and there was an opening every Tuesday night for him.

The types of crowds that came to see these shoddy shows weren’t really appreciating the art here. At least that’s what Crowley told himself as he watched from the crowd. A listless drunk idly watched the movements, but was clearly waiting for a different show. The ladies were trying their best to sell it in their mass of feathers and bright cloth, but clearly were getting discouraged.

It wasn’t long before he got to see Aziraphale, who treated this performance the same as he would treat a Broadway show. A mess of long blonde hair, dazzling silks, and a broad grin plastered across his face. Crowley tucked himself farther back into the shadows so that he wouldn’t be perceived.

Just a few jokes, some kicking moves in which Aziraphale was treated like a punchline. There was a dim sort of rage that awakened in Crowley when he saw Aziraphale getting treated like a clown. No one should treat his angel that way.

His angel? Was he really his? After all, it’s not like they ever tried to lay claim on one another.

Crowley waved his hand and by a small miracle the person treating Aziraphale like a clown had their pants split. The crowd laughed and the performer looked mortified. Aziraphale stood him and for a moment Crowley could swear he saw the demon out in the crowd, but then he turned and simply went back stage.

Crowley swore to himself that the next time Aziraphale went on stage, it would be a showstopper with a decent partner.
___

After seeing him dance, after a manner of speaking, in the middle of that violent crowd, Aziraphale became determined to see him do it again. Yet the snake was damn wily; always seeming to be reading or drinking rather than dancing.

So one day when Aziraphale heard the sound of rock and roll music coming from Crowley’s radio in his apartment, he made sure to swallow his own breath. It was like sneaking up on a wild animal, you had to be sure not to spook it by getting too close, too fast. With great big tip toe steps he went through the grey-black halls and peered around the corner.

Crowley was there, shaking his hips to the sound of the radio. Eyes closed, just completely wrapped up in the music for the moment. The movements weren’t what any dance hall would call particularly graceful or elegant, in fact Aziraphale knew that most of high society would laugh him out.

But when the angel saw the demon dancing there, it looked charming. Surprisingly delicate for someone who waged such war against God and Heaven itself. Why looking at him here and now it was almost hard to believe all the words that Uriel and Gabriel told him about Crowley. It almost seemed like he wasn’t scheming anything at all in particular.

As if sensing his gaze, Crowley’s eyes opened. All at once his body froze, midway through a sway.

“Like what you see, angel?” He drawled, going for his glasses and straightening out his body.

“Yes. Oh. I mean no. I mean.” Aziraphale looked down, unsure of how to respond, “Sorry. I just meant to say there is a play opening up in the park, did you want to watch it? It’s looking to be a bang-up time.”
_________________________

The next time Crowley saw Aziraphale dancing it was so damn close to dancing with him that he could almost taste it. It was the 1980s and there was such a clatter going on with several projects that they were both working on. Crowley decided on a whim to go to a swing dancing club, trying to get a taste for things he had never gotten to experience while he was alive.

It was small, a glorified apartment with nothing but wooden floors and space, but the people dancing didn’t seem to mind. Crowley was whirling about, leading people into spins and pushes with the greatest of ease. It was simple, really, once you got the hang of it.

He was midway through a swing out when he saw Aziraphale doing much the same thing. Aziraphale was turning a rather charming lady with a bright blue dress on and grinning in the vacant way he often grinned while dancing.

From across the hall their eyes met and this time it was Aziraphale’s turn to freeze up. All at once the dance stopped moving and a queer look stole over his face. Several emotions flickered across it.

No, not here. Not now. There were too many people and if it happened now it wouldn’t be perfect. The idea of messing it up got the better of Crowley and he ran.

“What are you looking at?” asked the angel’s dance partner, turning her brown head to see what he was looking at.

“Oh, ah, nothing.” Aziraphale redirected his gaze and grinned at her with a grin that looked much less confident than it did mere moments before.

The angel looked him, trying to see Crowley once more, but the demon was gone. There was nothing left except for the vague hint of his cologne and the feeling of a demonic miracle left behind.
___

They did dance together. Eventually at least. Even with people as stubborn as Aziraphale and Crowley certain things had to happen.

It was a quiet night, right after the end of the world was supposed to happen. After that grand battle Crowley had thought almost anything would feel anticlimactic, but he was damned wrong on that count.

The two of them were exhausted after everything that had transpired. Aziraphale put on the record player and some gentle waltz was playing. For a moment the angel stood by the record player, just drinking in the music.

Something in Crowley had an impulse. Gently he reached for Aziraphale’s hand and for once the angel didn’t resist. He let the demon pull him closer, gently swaying to the sound of violins. It wasn’t a proper waltz, certainly not a box step between them, but the closeness felt like something Crowley could drink in forever.

“We shouldn’t, you know? It’s not right for an angel and a demon to dance together.” Aziraphale quietly stated, but he made no effort to pull away.

“What are they gonna do, end the world if we do?” Crowley grinned, showing off all of his fangs.

“Oh you are incorrigible.” Aziraphale gently chided, but he held Crowley close, cheeks almost touching.

Lips gently met lips. It was so gradual that Crowley wasn’t even sure what happened at first. It was dancing, dancing close enough to feel the angel’s breath on his face. Then suddenly it was kissing and dancing. Then just kissing at the whole world boiled down to the feeling of an angel’s lips meeting a demon’s.

“This is a mistake, you know. We really shouldn’t.” Aziraphale started, but then he couldn’t resist going in for another kiss, trying to drink Crowley in.

“Just let me make a mistake tonight then.” Crowley growled.

For once Aziraphale didn’t argue and simply just melted into him. Even if tomorrow things were back to the same, at least they had tonight and this dance.