The first time Crowley sees Aziraphale naked, a few weeks after the Apocalapse, he rears back in shock.
“Is something wrong?” Aziraphale asks.
Crowley’s mouth works silently for a few moments. “What is that,” he finally manages, although he can’t muster up a question mark.
“What is what?” Aziraphale looks down at his own body, following Crowley’s eyeline. “My penis? Oh no, did I do it wrong?” He pokes at it anxiously. “Is it too small?”
A sound rips from Crowley’s throat. It could be a hysterical laugh or it could be a scream. “Too small? Too small? How big do you think they normally are?”
Because Aziraphale is, to put it politely, well-endowed. To put it less politely, he has an absolute monster of a knob. A titanic cock. Porn stars would weep and recoil in fear. A stallion would be jealous. It would be comical if it weren’t so intimidating.
In lieu of answering, Aziraphale's hands flutter about as though looking for pockets to hide in. Not like there’d be much room for hands in his trousers, Crowley thinks, wildly.
“How long have you been walking around with that— that thing?”
“Hm. I manifested it sometime during the Renaissance. Codpieces were all the rage, you know; needed something to fill it out.”
“Those must have been some bloody enormous codpieces.”
“Oh!” Aziraphale looks at his own genitals consideringly. “Is my penis large?”
“Is it large. Is it large. I’m half expecting Moses to come down from it with the Ten Commandments.”
“Well, I have no frame of reference! I— er— I haven’t had much exposure to them in the flesh, as it were.”
“Then how, pray tell, did you decide on the size?”
Aziraphale shifts uncomfortably. “Erm, I looked at some medieval manuscripts...”
“Angel.” Crowley rubs his eyes. “You’re telling me that you based your genital configuration on the pornographic doodles some horny monks drew in the margins of manuscripts?”
“I didn’t realize they were so unrealistic!”
“How do you even find trousers that fit?”
Aziraphale, red with embarrassment, grumbles. “Fine. You’ve made your point. I’ll shrink it down to a more reasonable size.”
“Now wait just a second,” Crowley says. “Let’s not be hasty.”
Aziraphale arches an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh, really.”
