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Looking back, Aziraphale wondered how he could have been so blind.
They had had a nice morning together, sharing breakfast at his favourite brunch restaurant – ‘Sharing’ meaning Aziraphale ate all the crêpes while Crowley had two slices of bread and other than that just watched him eat with enthusiasm.
They had had a nice talk, about how Adam was doing and them saving the world, and all that stuff normal people talked about by breakfast, really.
Aziraphale had leaned in conspiratorially, telling him about Anathema’s call and about how she burnt down the second set of predictions sent by Agnes Nutter, with a lot of regret in his voice, and then suddenly… Demonic lips had touched his.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected Crowley to kiss him – Though he definitely hadn’t – It was all the little things, gestures and affections between them that suddenly all seemed to make sense now.
Crowley begging him to run away with him.
Crowley offering him to stay at his place.
Crowley watching him eat with something close to fascination.
Crowley repeatedly saving his life.
It all made sense now. All those moments of him silently wondering why the demon was going to such lengths to protect him, to cheer him up, to be his friend.
He was in love.
Well, Aziraphale thought. At least this was the ultimate proof that his old friend wasn’t all that black to his white. More a little bit of grey. Maybe they could be grey together.
Of course, there was still the little issue of…
Aziraphale pushed Crowley away gently.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice full of compassion and his face showing his concern and love for his friend in every single way. “I just… I don’t feel this way for you.”
Crowley pulled away with a raised eyebrow and with his heart breaking, Aziraphale could see him come out of a rather dazed state, blinking several times as if to clear his head.
“You don’t?” Crowley asked with a little confused frown. “You’re sure?”
Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Yes, quite so, dear. I’m very sorry.”
“Aw, stop saying that,” Crowley replied with an annoyed wave. His self-confidence didn’t seem to have taken the slightest hit. On the contrary – The demon was now eyeing him with a dangerous spark in his snake-like eyes.
“So, you don’t feel anything for me at all? Kiss wasn’t even the least bit nice for you?”
Aziraphale shrugged, feeling clearly uncomfortable.
“No, I mean. It was… nice that you want to kiss me. I suppose. But… I don’t… since when do you feel this way, Crowley?”
The demon shrugged, pulling a little face that clearly was meant to signal “I don’t care!” all over the globe. Not that Aziraphale believed that in the slightest.
“I don’t know. Ever since you gave your flaming sword away?”
The angel raised an eyebrow.
“That… would be the day we met.”
“Was it? Oh. Can’t recall.” Crowley grinned.
“You can’t possibly… feel things… since the day we met. We barely knew each other!”
“I knew you’re a pretty angel with a hand for trouble, a heart bigger than his brain and a very prominent competence of exhausting your God. Kinda liked it.”
“Why?”
“’Because it sounded like fun to tempt.” Crowley shrugged. “Plus, you were the only angel I’ve ever met who might’ve been able to realize that good and bad isn’t everything existing in the universe.
Aziraphale sighed. “It took me a while to get there.”
“Yeah,” Crowley grinned. “But that was the fun in it. So, you didn’t feel anything just now?”
“Oh, we’re back on that, are we?” he replied with a suffering look on his face. “Listen, I told you, and I’m sorry, but I won’t change my mind just because of your thin idea of a compliment.”
“Sure,” the demon replied with an amused sound, grinning brightly. “Okay. It seems that I must accept that. See you for dinner, angel.”
Aziraphale looked after him with a troubled look, thinking that Crowley’s tone sounded like everything, but surely not acceptance.
Crowley picked him up for dinner.
After they had already shared breakfast together, it left Aziraphale somewhat confused, but he had rarely not enjoyed Crowley’s company, and so he let him guide him to the Bentley and even got into the hell car with only a few seconds of hesitancy.
“Will you please go slow?” he asked in an almost desperate tone, that made the demon smile rather predatorily.
“Yes. I will go slow. Promise.” His tone sounded earnest and serious for a second there, and so Aziraphale nodded. Of course, no assurance of any kind would’ve stopped him from putting on his seat belt.
Which was only good, because Crowley did not go slow, at all.
He laughed when Aziraphale started clutching the sides of his seat, while the car was speeding around the corner like they were in a race against the Apocalypse (Which they weren’t, they had been just last week!).
“Come on, angel. It’s perfectly safe, I would never bring you into any danger.”
And to Aziraphale’s utter horror, he took a hand off the steering wheel, taking his, and letting a thumb wander over the back of his hand with a smile that was supposed to be comforting, he imagined. But honestly!
“Look at the street!” Aziraphale screeched and squeezed his eyes shut as he saw a bus approaching. He could feel the car shift and knew that Crowley had avoided the crash last second, one hand still holding his, but he kept his eyes shut, just for another few seconds.
“I might still need that one, angel.”
Aziraphale hadn’t even noticed he had begun clutching Crowley’s hand tightly instead of the seat. He let go as if he had burnt himself, looking down at it to see red spots where his fingers had applied pressure.
“Sorry,” he muttered with an apologetic smile, then shook his head frantically. “No, I’m not, actually. It’s your own fault for driving like that. Keep your hand on the steering wheel, don’t you dare taking it off again!” the angel added when he saw Crowley move his hand again.
Crowley just laughed silently.
Dinner was going rather great. Crowley promised him to pay and didn’t even cross his fingers and the food was delicious. Aziraphale had never been here before, but definitely was going to make up for that.
“How did you find this place?” he asked in wonder as Crowley ordered him another dessert with a smile that the angel was sure he had seen humans give their pets.
Affectionate, he thought. Hm.
Crowley just waved it off. “I don’t know. Been here a while ago once, but almost forgotten about it until we made plans today.”
Aziraphale decided not to mention, that actually, they hadn’t made plans at all and the demon had just suddenly decided they were meeting for dinner. It had been a lovely one, for sure, so he wasn’t going to complain.
“Who were you with?”
“Huh?” Crowley was looking at him, chin rested on his hand, apparently lost in thoughts he was just awakening from.
“Who were you with? When you found this place? You barely ever eat desserts, but you keep on recommending me some.”
“Oh. I… went with someone. Can’t remember, really.”
“You can’t remember who you went to dinner with?” Aziraphale asked, feeling slightly offended, without knowing exactly why.
Crowley shrugged carelessly. “It was someone with a good taste in desserts, apparently. You liked them all, didn’t you?”
“Well. Yes. But…”
“Do you want to take a walk? Night-time, streetlamps, stars shining, hell, we could grab a bottle of champagne and just enjoy the night. I’ll miracle the car home.”
That was about the time Aziraphale understood.
Oh, darn it! – He was being tempted.
There had been quite a few occurrences of Crowley tempting him. There were his constant invitations to fancy dinners, which, quite frankly, were as obvious as simple. Sure, good food was a massive temptation, but it was one that harmed nobody, so Aziraphale usually just went along with it.
But Crowley had used it as a basis to offer other things, bigger things, that seemed appealing to Aziraphale’s sense of comfort.
Well, he wasn’t an idiot and he noticed, of course, sometimes. Sometimes, he noticed too late, but never had he hurt any of his principles. Sometimes stretched them a little, maybe. But they all were still in place, and that was what mattered, surely?
What he now realized, however, was that Crowley liked them stretched, liked his offers taken with open arms, and his temptations being walked into with open eyes.
He knew that Aziraphale knew and he also knew when to stop. Knew to never step over the line, because it would lead to Aziraphale taking a step back. It was like they did a dance, Crowley leading, but never misleading, in a way.
The angel sighed.
But this was a whole new temptation and a whole other attempt, with a whole other goal. This wasn’t seduction in the sense of giving in to the simple pleasures in life, this was about giving in to him.
And here and now, arms linked with his demonic friend, as they walked down the street, stars and moon shining down on them and the night building up an atmosphere of peace that seemed impossible to disturb, Aziraphale felt, for the first time, afraid that he might forget his principles.
He cast a side glance to Crowley, who was walking next to him with a relaxed smile on his face, looking straight ahead of them, talking something about how his Bentley seemed to have an extra fast gear ever since Adam miracled it back to him (He was going to have a serious word with the boy!) and it felt… so incredibly right, that it made the angel shiver.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Crowley grinned, still looking ahead, not at him, at least as soon as he could tell through the sunglasses shielding his eyes.
“Walking you home, I believe?”
“I’m not going to fall for you, just because you’re taking me out for dinner, Crowley. You have taken me out for dinner for 6000 years.”
Now the demon turned his head, smiling at him and he could see his eyes sparkling intensely through the dark glasses.
“Oh, I don’t know, angel. You’d be surprised how easy falling is.”
When they finally reached Crowley’s apartment, they were both quite drunk from the champagne, that had magically filled up whenever the bottle was in danger of emptying. They had walked for at least two hours and Aziraphale’s feet were practically burning and so he didn’t refuse when Crowley offered him to stay overnight, despite making it very clear that he was going to harmlessly sleep on the sofa and that was all that was gonna to happen.
Crowley had chuckled in that drunk way of his and led him up the stairs, and as always when he entered the demon’s flat, the angel had to swallow down a tiny bit of sadness rising up in his throat, trying to form words.
It was impersonal, dark, cold and empty. It felt like a cave, like something to live in alone and wait for death, rather than like a happy life.
It felt lonely.
Aziraphale could feel when a place was loved, when it sent waves radiating happiness, but on the other hand, he could also feel this apartment screaming at him, with all its might, in ever-resounding loneliness.
Or maybe it was just the plants, who knew.
Aziraphale sighed, immediately feeling a bit more sober already.
“You know, you could put up photos or something…” he muttered, and Crowley, having had that discussion with him a million times already, rolled his eyes, as he took off his sunglasses and kicked his shoes off his feet at the same time.
“Yeah, I could, but my angel is so very careful not to leave any traces of his friendship with me.”
Crowley seemed still quite drunk, spreading on the sofa in his usual way, so he let the “my angel” slide for now.
It sounded rather lovely, anyway.
“I thought this was my spot, actually,” Aziraphale remarked with a little smile instead, looking down at Crowley, who had his arms wrapped around a pillow and his eyes slowly falling shut. At his words, he fluttered them open again, looking up at him in confusion.
“What? No way! You’re taking the bed, you’re the guest after all.”
Aziraphale snorted. “You’re just too lazy to get up again.”
“Yup,” Crowley yawned. “That too.”
He stared down at the demon for a few seconds, it really wasn’t all that long, but long enough for him to fall asleep, apparently. Suddenly, his breathing evened, and he could even hear soft snoring coming from the suddenly so very calm face.
He looked down on him thoughtfully.
This one, he thought, might just be the biggest temptations of them all.
With a sigh, he looked around. Now that he was being practically sober again, he couldn’t quite think about sleep yet. His thoughts were racing, and confused, and this apartment still felt so strange and impersonal and not at all like the Crowley he knew, not at all like a place to feel welcome in.
Aziraphale walked up to the demon’s plants, watching them tremble in fear and shaking his head with a tut. Lovingly, he started watering them, assuring them that everything would be alright, until the trembling slowly ceased, and they could find some peace and quiet in this starry night.
He really needed to talk to Crowley about his poor, terrified plants. Didn’t he know that life could only ever truly bloom with the outmost consideration and love?
When he was done, he looked around the naked walls, deciding once and for all to bring some paintings or pictures to light them up at least a little. It was bad enough that they were made out of dark stone that made the whole room feel awfully cold, but naked as they were, it couldn’t make Crowley feel comfortable at all.
At last, he pushed the door open to where he knew lay the demon’s bedroom and found himself facing an unmade bed – of course – looking, opposing to the rest of the flat, absolutely comfortable and only waiting for him.
He peeled out of his coat, folded it carefully on a chair standing nearby, placed his shoes underneath and then fell in, suddenly feeling awfully tired. With a yawn, he wrapped himself up in Crowley’s blanket, resting his head on the soft pillows and fell asleep almost immediately, feeling rather comforted and safe and very, very home, taking deep breaths unconsciously, in this bed that so very much smelled like Crowley.
The next morning, the rest of the demon’s exhaustion seemed to have passed. He was giddy and cheerful when he woke him up to the smell of…
“Have you made waffles?”
Aziraphale’s face poked out of the blanket he had wrapped himself up with, his hair looking fuzzy and tousled up rather adorably.
“Oh, I love waffles. Have you hot cherries here?”
“Raspberries,” Crowley practically hummed and lend him a hand to pull him out of the mountain of blanket he had slept under. “Slept well, I take it?”
“Oh,” Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, really. Thank you for leaving me the bed.”
Crowley shrugged, and led him into the kitchen, where a plate of steaming waffles was waiting for him.
The angel could see him throw a side glance at the plants as they walked past them, but he seemed to decide against commenting on the fact that they weren’t trembling and had suddenly blossomed some flowers that hadn’t been there before.
They ate silently for a while, but Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s eyes on him the whole time. The demon hadn’t put up his sunglasses yet – which he was always secretly very happy about, because he didn’t like when he couldn’t read the other’s eyes at all – and was watching him with a mix of amusement and calculation.
After about half a waffle, Aziraphale sighed.
“Still not in love with you, if that’s what you’re wondering. Very sorry to disappoint.”
“Not disappointed at all,” Crowley grinned. “Just glad you like my waffles.”
“Well, they’re… good.” He smiled at the demon, glad to be able to at least give him that. They were good. And he sure knew his way around desserts.
Crowley’s eyes narrowed in confusion as they got caught on something behind Aziraphale’s right shoulder.
“Was that there before? I’m fairly sure that wasn’t there before.”
The angel turned around surprised, then blushed slightly.
On the wall behind him, hang a picture of a puppy and a little kitten cuddling in the sun.
“Oh. Hm. Wonder how that got here.”
Crowley shook his head in amusement.
“You’re a miserable liar.”
“Oh!” Aziraphale smiled at him happily. “Thank you!”
It was weird, that after spending a whole day and night and next morning with a person, you only missed them more.
He was still standing in front of Crowley’s door rather reluctantly, knowing it was time to leave and open his shop again, but at the same time utterly unwilling to take the steps down, leading him away from his friend.
It had been… utterly enjoyable, all the time they spent together, and he didn’t exactly want it to end again.
What was Crowley doing the whole day without him, anyway? It wasn’t as if he had a lot of friends to spend his time with, especially now that he didn’t belong to hell anymore.
Not that he had spent a lot of time with them before. Aziraphale shuddered. No really. He was glad to have seen the last of them – For now, that was.
But apparently… there had been someone he had taken to that restaurant, hadn’t there? The angel bit his lip, thinking this through, and coming to absolutely no conclusion. Was Crowley having other friends than him? Was that a silly thing to wonder about? Of course it was, and petty too, which he never wanted to be.
He didn’t have a lot of other friends himself, though. Sure, acquaintances, they weren’t to be avoided when one was being an utter angel to most of his costumers, someone to say hello to on the street now and again, but friends other than Crowley? Someone to truly be himself around, to talk about all the things no other was there to talk about? No, never. Not even another angel had ever had that place for him, because no other angel had ever understood the nuances.
Being in love with a demon rather took away the possibility of being friends with angels who looked at demons as nothing but their evil counterparts.
Not that he had ever needed any other friends.
Was Crowley going to meet his mystery person again for dinner, maybe exploring a different place?
Aziraphale turned around on the spot rather determinedly, knocked against the door and called,
“Crowley? Actually, do you think you can give me a lift home? Slowly? My feet still hurt a little from yesterday’s march.”
It was only after the demon had opened the door with a rather resigned smile, his sunglasses already on his nose and keys dangling between his fingers, that he stumbled upon the little words “in love” that had come into his mind so naturally before.
Darn it, he thought. That demon is really getting to me.
That demon was indeed getting to him. He didn’t even bother with the seat this time, going straight ahead to clutch Crowley’s arm instead, whenever a sharp curve almost threw them against the nearest passing car.
It was a bit contra productive, grasping the driver’s arm, he figured, but at the same time, the touch made him feel a lot safer, as ridiculous as it may have seemed.
Crowley was silently grinning to himself, but at least he had the courtesy of not taking his eyes off the street while gloating.
Aziraphale reluctantly appreciated that.
When the horror ride finally came to an end, he stepped out of the car rather hastily, holding on to the roof for a few seconds, to regain his balance and composure. Crowley followed him out with a smirk.
“You’re alright? Still able to walk?” he grinned.
Aziraphale scoffed.
“Perfectly fine, thank you.”
He looked at his book shop, right next to where Crowley had parked, then back at his friend.
“Do you want to come in?” he offered after a few seconds of hesitating. “I have just gotten some paintings for my bedroom, you know, if you liked one of them, I could…”
“Angel, are you planning on ever letting me go home alone?” Crowley smirked.
“What?” Aziraphale spluttered, then blushed. “Yes. Yes, I am. Of course, I am. You… go home, then. I’ll… just go inside.”
He hurried up to run inside, closing the door shut quickly behind himself to hide away from his shame.
What on Earth was he doing? He had walked into every single one of Crowley’s little plans to seduce him, willingly, with opened eyes, only to get rejected by him after…
… After having wanted to spend every single minute with the demon and being utterly unwilling to leave his company and having slept cuddled up in his bed, having created a painting made of pure love in his sleep and… and…
Oh dear.
The door behind him swung open and Crowley stepped in with a widely amused smile.
“Didn’t have to just run away from me.”
“I did not run away, I simply walked home,” Aziraphale snapped back, suddenly very defensive. He regretted his tone immediately, as it didn’t impress Crowley in the least, but got him a dryly raised eyebrow instead.
“You’re alright, angel?”
“Stop calling me that!”
Crowley looked like he had to hold back laughter now. “You are an angel.”
“Well, you’re a demon and I don’t call you demon. I use your name, like a normal person.”
Still looking like he was supressing laughter, Crowley shook his head.
“I’ve been calling you this for 6000 years now, angel.”
“And I’ve asked you to stop it!” Aziraphale called, trying to sound angry, but it came out sounding both, desperate and childish. He turned away with his arms crossed in front of his chest, sulking.
Suddenly, he was very aware of Crowley standing close behind him, felt his warmth radiating from him, and then there was hot breath against his ear, making him shiver as the demon whispered,
“Never.”
“I do not…” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “… Love you.”
He could feel Crowley’s smile even though he couldn’t see it.
“Liar,” he breathed into his ear one more time, then he was gone, as suddenly as he had been there.
Aziraphale stood motionless for a few minutes, his eyes closed, wishing he could pray.
They didn’t speak for a whole of three days.
They were rather dull three days.
Aziraphale didn’t like them at all, but he also didn’t want to march up to Crowley before having a definite answer to… well… everything that was currently occupying his mind.
He was currently sitting on their usual park bench, staring at the ducks, trying to make some sense of the mess whirling around his head.
Fine, so he liked Crowley – That was nothing new. He had liked Crowley ever since he had met him. When he had stood there, doing nothing but God’s will, but doing it without gloating, without boasting, just the one, gentle, simple nudge in direction of doubt, just enough to make Aziraphale see, for the very first time, that everything right wasn’t necessarily good.
Was he attracted to Crowley? Well. Apparently. He could still feel his breath on his ear, shivering just from the thought alone, thought about how it had felt, so close to him, so very, very close… And coughed, tearing out of it with sly looks around, as if to check if someone had caught onto his unholy thoughts.
No one had, except the ducks, who gave him judgingly knowing looks.
Okay, next.
Did he love Crowley? Maybe. No. Definitely.
Did he love him romantically? Eh. Maybe? Apparently.
He thought back to the last night, curled up inside the demon’s bed, thought of the loneliness clutching at his heart whenever he entered the demon’s apartment, thought about how lonely he must feel himself, surely, thought about all the little gestures and affections he had thought about before, but different. Thought about how they had affected him.
Aziraphale sighed.
Okay yes.
Had he always loved Crowley?
The angel furrowed his brows, and threw an inquiring look towards the duck, who nodded its head slightly before sinking it back underwater.
Before Aziraphale could ask himself any more questions that could all be answered with a simple “yes”, he heard an achingly familiar voice behind him, only now noticing how much he had missed it.
“Well, hello there, feathered heavenly herald, how are things?”
Aziraphale turned around, looking rather resigned to his fate.
“You know,” he greeted Crowley as he made some space on the bench for him to sit, “On second thought, I think, ‘angel’ is just fine.”
Crowley grinned.
“Somehow, I was sure you were going to say that.”
Aziraphale looked down on the water thoughtfully, where the duck was still splashing in the water, once or twice turning its head towards them, as if still listening to the conversation.
“So, how long have you known?” he finally asked, and Crowley smiled knowingly.
“I don’t know. Ever since you gave your flaming sword away?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Aziraphale spat, then slapped a hand before his mouth, eyes ripped wide open now. He turned to apologize to Crowley, but the words got stuck in his throat when he saw the demon, bowling with laughter next to him on the bench.
Ah, hell. He was beautiful.
“Very funny,” Aziraphale remarked dryly, but couldn’t quite fight the smile spreading on his face.
“So, can I kiss you now?” Crowley wanted to know with an amused glance at him. “Or do you have further objections?”
“You planned on seducing me, didn’t you?”
“Mhhhm,” Crowley grinned. “I think, for the sake of correctness, we should say that I did seduce you. I went slow though. Just like you wanted.”
Aziraphale frowned. “You mean you could’ve done it faster?”
Instead of an answer, Crowley kissed him again, and this time, the angel didn’t pull back, but leaned into the gentle touch hesitantly, not sure how to go on, but definitely sure that he didn’t want it to end. He let a hand roam through the other’s hair cautiously, just thinking about how it was really soft, when it suddenly stopped being soft and Crowley was pushing him into the bench, lips on him hard and demanding.
Aziraphale was completely breathless, but wrapped his arms around the demon, pressing him closer to himself as he felt the lips wander downwards, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. Panting, and with a lot of effort, he pushed him away.
“Not here,” he gasped when Crowley gave him an annoyed look.
With a swift move, the demon swung off the bench, held out his hand and helped Aziraphale getting back on his feet. With a side glance, the angel noticed how absolutely unaffected he seemed.
Unfair.
He didn’t even want to know what he himself looked like.
That’s when Crowley pressed a gentle kiss onto his temple, leading him through the park without letting his hand go for even a second.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, which, in all honesty, was good enough for Aziraphale.
“So,” he asked, as he cuddled up on Crowley with a happy little smile, letting his fingers dance around the naked skin of his chest, tenderly. “Your big plan was to take me out to dinner. And that’s it?”
Crowley laughed. “Hey, I had more had I needed it. But you were ridiculously easy to get.”
Aziraphale shook his head, looking slightly offended.
“I was not easy to get. It took you 6000 years to get me!”
“Only because you were too stubborn to open your eyes.” Crowley shrugged, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Aziraphale’s neck. “I always knew you wanted me.”
“That person you went to the restaurant with…” the angel started and could see Crowley roll his eyes.
“Doesn’t exist, silly angel. Wanted to make you jealous.” A grin spread on his face. “Worked pretty well.”
“You’re awful and I absolutely hate you,” Aziraphale complained in that whiny tone of his, and Crowley pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, then his cheeks, then the tip of his nose, then his mouth again, and the angel suddenly felt adequately appeased.
“You don’t,” Crowley whispered.
“No,” Aziraphale sighed. “I don’t. I suppose I… love you.”
Crowley, having had waited 6000 years for that particular revelation, closed his eyes with a smile, and he could feel his arms around him getting a little tighter, like making sure he wasn’t to just vanish like a dream.
He smiled.
Looking back, lying here in Crowley’s bed, snuggled up comfortable onto the demon beside him, the wall practically plastered with portraits full of puppies, flowers and butterflies, Aziraphale wondered how he could have been so blind, indeed.