Chapter Text
The taxi driver watched in disbelief, as two man, one of which was definitely a woman and a nanny before, left the car and walked into the bookshop. The driver shrugged off his doubt. These two man were weird as hell anyway. A moment ago they were even talking about the Armageddon. What does the word even mean, anyway? He drove away.
“Glad to be myself again.” Crowley said while stretching his arms. “But Hell, these pants are fucking tight.”
“Really? I thought you rather enjoyed a change in costume.” Aziraphale unlocked the door.
“Sure I did. Hadn’t wear a dress in centuries, but these pants are something new. Have to wear them until they went out fashion.”
They went in the shop, and Aziraphale changed back to his normal outfit. They sat down in the backroom, each with a cup of hot cocoa in hand. (“I don’t want hot cocoa!” “But I already made it.”) When they finally sat down, Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and asked:
“So, what happened today?”
“Well, a friend of mine had dropped by.” Crowley told him the whole story.
Although Crowley tried not to make it a big deal, Aziraphale could still sense his discontent.
“It’s alright, my people seldom appreciate my work here, too.” Aziraphale pondered. “Michael even said that although it’s well done, it’s still doomed to failure.”
“No way. What a bastard.”
“Yes.” Aziraphale shook his head. “Uh, I meant that he did say that. Not that I agreed ‘yes he’s a bastard,’ which he is most definitely not…...probably? Personally I made no comment on that part.”
Crowley chuckled. He realized that he was babbling.
They both agreed that Hastur was no threat, since even Down There wants to replace Crowley, there’s no other suitable choice. Crowley told Aziraphale that his employment will end in a year, and they have to come up with new cover, and what Harriet Dowlings thinks of smartphone. An hour later, there’s nothing new to discuss, so Aziraphale brought up another topic, which they had already discussed a thousand times, but just to make sure everything was alright, Crowley agreed they should go through the details again, which turned out to be just fine, as it did a thousand times before, and they were satisfied. Aziraphale then brought up another topic, again, and they discussed some more, until the angel decided that he should ask him to stay overnight, because it had became too late.
As Crowley lied in the sofa, watching TV series online with his phone, (It never occurred to them that there was no wifi in the bookshop, and Crowley never paid for the internet.) Aziraphale was reading in the comfortable armchair, but he wasn’t actually reading. He’s thinking about what Crowley had asked in the taxi:
“Angel, what if we fail to avert Armagaddon?”
“Best not to dwell on the things we can’t handle. We focus on the thing we could do.”
And that’s truth, but Aziraphale was not satisfied with the truth, either. He’s all too aware of the fact that, once Armageddon breaks out, only one side would prevail, thus only one of them could survive.
Aziraphale shook the thought away and tried to focus on the novel. There’s nothing to be done, but is it so, though?
He looked back on all the days spent with Crowley, the more he got to know him, the more he was surprised. He especially adored the way he treated children, no matter it’s when God brought about the Flood in Noah’s era, or it’s now the way he treated Warlock. He may be cynical towards God, but he’s always full of love towards children. How could he possibly fall? And all the temptation he had helped Crowley with, why didn’t that make him fall? There were too many questions. Now even Hastur considered Crowley unfit to be a demon.
Maybe there was some mistakes in God’s divine plan? Who’s there to say that he’s wrong, when it’s all ineffable?
“Crowley?”
He was wearing earphones and didn’t notice him. From the occasional chuckling, it seemed that the TV series were quite interesting.
“Dear?” He raised his voice.
“Hmm?” Crowley took off the earphones. “Yes, angel?”
Hang on a moment. Aziraphale stopped. You can’t just go up to people and ask why had they fallen.
“It’s a rather, well, important, even a little sensitive question.” No, he shouldn’t ask at all.
“I’m all ears.”
Crowley said with a voice so lay back. He had kicked of his shoes, and was now curled in the sofa, wrapped in a tartan blanket, sipping hot cocoa. Aziraphale just couldn’t bring up his mind to destroy his good mood.
“Nevermind.”
“Well. Spill it out.” Crowley urged. “I’m curious.”
“Uh.” Aziraphale looked down at his hot cocoa. Quick, come up with something. “Do you like the cinnamon in hot cocoa?”
Crowley gave it due consideration.
“Not really. I only like them in the carrot cake.”
“But I put cinnamon in the cocoa.” Now Aziraphale was confused.
“Did you?” Crowley frowned. He took another serious sip. “But I couldn’t taste it.”
“Let me.”
Aziraphale went over and took a sip of Crowley’s cup of hot cocoa.
“There’s definitely cinnamon.”
“Really?” Crowley took back the cocoa and sipped it again.
“You don’t know what cinnamon tastes like?”
“Well.” Crowley protested. ”Because I only drink hot cocoa when I’m here, and it seems that you have always put cinnamon inside. So I just assume cocoa tastes this way.”
“That’s just ridiculous.” Aziraphale said. “I didn’t know you like carrot cake, though.”
“I invented the carrot cakes.” Crowley said absent-mindedly, he’s going back to the phone. “Because I hate carrots, one of God’s most horrible inventions. Even yeling can’t improve them a bit.”
“True.” He agreed eagerly, not quite understanding what Crowley was saying. Does he mean that he yelled at carrots?
Still, he had to come up with another approach.
“Turned out I like cinnamon, though.” Crowley said a while later. “But, what were you going to ask me?”
Shame. Aziraphale sighed.
“You asked me, what will happen if Armageddon still break out.”
Crowley sat up straight. He put on the serious face, gathered the blanket into a ball and put them on his lap to show the angel that he had all his attention.
“It would be so much easier, if we were on the same side.”
No one spoke. The words hung in the air. Then Aziraphale realized he had spoken the truth.
Tears filled his eyes. He just never realized how much he want it, until now the words were spoken, and he knew that they would never came true. Not forever.
“No, no, don’t.” Crowley knelt down at his side. He put the blanket onto his knees and pat his lap. “It’s alright. We are on our side. That would be enough.”
“Don’t be silly, Crowley. There are only Heaven and Hell, and humans choosing between them. There’s no our side.”
“Well, that kind of spirit certainly won’t do.”
Despite the tears, Aziraphale smiled.
“So I was thinking, what if…...”
Crowley suddenly tensed and looked up at him.
“You are not thinking about to fall, are you?”
He had his glasses off, the pair of golden eyes twinkled in the dim yellow lamp light like amber, and they are full of concern and love. How could he fell? Aziraphale asked himself.
“No, rather, I was thinking, if you want to come back to Heaven.”
Crowley tried to rise, but Aziraphale grabbed his shoulders, then he fell on his knees as well. Now the words are spoken, he had to say them all:
“I’m so sorry, but I just can’t believe that you’ve fallen. There must be something wrong, if you agree, I’ll ask Almighty herself to see what we can do. Trust me, once I talk to her———”
”But she won’t listen to you.” Crowley said softly. “She never talks to anyone, and her plans are ineffeble.”
“No, it’s not like that.” The horror nearly suffocated him. “It will work, as long as you trust her.”
Aziraphale looked up at him with a desperate hope, but Crowley’s expression was clouded with melancholy. He shook his head. Aziraphale could feel his tears welling up again.
“Why did you fall, Crowley?”
“Because I ask too much.”
“And what’s that?”
I couldn’t tell you all the questions I asked, all the doubt I had, and why I had finally stopped believing in her, because I want you to believe in her. I need it. I want your mind to be free of those worrying and unsure. I don’t want you to end up like me, fallen.
But why me ? What had I ever done to deserve this ? He asked God.
The God remained silence. Another question unanswered. Talking to God feels like talking to oneself.
“Whatever.” He finally said, looking up. He must not cry. (He forgot that he had cried, a lot, during the day.)
“You are dodging the question.”
“Whatever.”
“Then I’ll fall.” Aziraphale snapped. “I’ll still have a word with her Almighty, only this time I would ask her nicely if she would banish me. I believe once I have a proper word with her------”
Crowley cracked up, tears finally rolled down his cheeks.
“You don’t ask for God’s permit to fall.”
He had never seen Aziraphale so angry, and the idea was ridiculous. He wiped away the tears. “Now I have full confidence in you that only when Lord Beelzebub should grow an inch taller would one of your feather turned black.”
Aziraphale smiled. “Do you demons always talk about your superiors like that?”
“No, not really.” Crowley rose and helped the angel to his feet. “But we do have many fancy words for God. For instance------”
“Thank you, I don’t want to know.” Aziraphale smiled, sadly. “Well, if you are content with the status quo, promise me.”
“What?”
“Remember me, if your side prevail.”
“It will never come to that. I promise you.”
“You don’t know.”
“You are just being pessimist, but actually, the situation is better for us.” Crowley said cheerfully. “We can seek asylum for each other no matter which side shall prevail, so it’s important that we should stay on opposite side, and it’s the only way we could get all the information and stop the Apocalypse”
And there’s always the star.
They smiled, and suddenly both felt embarrassed from all the crying and laughing. Aziraphale picked up the book from the ground and folded the blanket.
“Here.” Crowley passed him some kleenex.
“Thank you.”
Crowley watched him dabbing his tears away. The eyes were getting a bit pinkish, making the blue eyes even bluer. He suddenly felt like to kiss them. He knew that humans kiss. It’s a way of showing affections, and now feels like a good time.
Normally he would just wait and lose the opportunity. He couldn’t say what he was waiting for. Maybe he just want to take it slow, because there’s eternity waiting before them, and they had all the time in the world. But now the end is nigh, who could tell what’s waiting for them? Warlock is six, there’s only five years left now, for immortal beings it felt just as quick as a blink. For the first time, Crowley didn’t want to wait.
Now or never. So the mortals say.
It could really be never .
Crowley took a step forward.
“Aziraphale?”
“What, dear?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley seldom called him by his full name.
“How would you like to, uh.” Crowley tried not to look flustered. “I mean it just occurred to me that we’ve never, uh.”
Aziraphale walked up to him. He looked tenderly into his eyes, concerned. Crowley began in panic again:
“Do you think it’s possible to, I mean, human do it as well, it’s like eating or drinking, if you’re wondering, uh.” He ended the sentence, with another uh . He’s about to die. “Yeah, that’s it. You know, uh.”
Crowley took a deep breath. He should just do it, anything is better than the nonsense he’s saying. Gingerly, he reached out a hand, but it just hovered an inch from the angel’s cheek. Aziraphale pressed it onto his face and caressed it.
“Do you want to kiss me?” Aziraphale beamed. Crowley felt the angel’s another hand resting on his shoulder, playing with his red curls. His breath started to tremble. Just when Aziraphale was about to start, Crowley drew away.
“Wait a moment.” He ruffled his hair and hurriedly left the backroom. Aziraphale followed and found him standing in the middle of the bookshop. The curtains were all drawn, so it was quite dark. He stood next to him.
“Maybe we should wait.” Crowley said, in the end.
“It’s no big deal.” Aziraphale comforted him. “Human do it all the time, you said. It’s very easy.”
“All right, all right.” Crowley said when Aziraphale tried to hold hands with him. “But in the backroom.”
Before going back, Crowley quickly went to the front door and checked that it was locked. He walked back coolly like nothing had happened, Aziraphale was doing his best not to smile.
“Alright dear, now sit down here. Don’t move.” Aziraphale said merrily, and he quickly pecked the lightest kiss on Crowley’s head. Then he cupped his cheeks and pecked another one quickly on the lips.
“Has it ended already?” Crowely asked.
“Mmm. See. It’s not that hard.”
Crowley, who closed his lips firmly, with his eyes shut all the while, finally breathed.
“It’s not what I read in the books, though.” Aziraphale frowned. “I thought it would be different.”
“You read it in the books?” Crowley asked breathlessly.
“Yes.” Aziraphale blushed. “I always thought it would be more…...passionate.”
Then he sat down by his side on the sofa. There was a while of pondering. (For Crowley, panicking.)
“I got it.” Aziraphale clapped his hands. “Let’s do french kissing. That would be fun. I read it in Gone with the Wind .”
“But we are not french.”
“We are not human, either.”
Crowley wanted to run away, but he was trapped in the softness of the sofa and the angel’s arms. Maybe he didn’t quite want to run away, not when Aziraphale was pressing against him so warmly. He grabbed his red hair and kissed him deeply. He could only lie backward, not knowing where to put his hands.
“Open it.” Aziraphale touched his lips.
Crowley did as he was told. Aziraphale tasted of hot cocoa and cinnamon. And grass, and earth. A moment later, he broke away.
“I can’t breath.” Crowley panted.
“We don’t need to breathe.” Aziraphale muttered into his neck and kissed him there.
The touch sent electric shock though his body. It hurt. It’s dizzy and it’s great. It amazed and frightened him.
“No, stop.” Crowley struggled up and grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulders. The angel looked mesmerized. His blue eyes were burning.
“What’s happening?” Crowley asked. He had never felt anything like this.
“I don’t know.” Aziraphale leaned forwards again. “I suppose it’s what kissing is like.”
Crowley felt hot breaths by the ear. It’s tickling and exciting.
He started to giggle when Aziraphale nibbled at his ears, and he kissed back.