Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

London

2019

“Angel?”

It was soft at first and Aziraphale was certain he could’ve imagined it but offered a polite hum in return. As it was, most definitely, the polite thing to do.

“Angel.”

Louder now, and without the imposition of a question behind it. Aziraphale looked up to meet Crowley’s eyes, burning with that yellow he always seemed to miss.

“Sorry” Aziraphale returns, closing his book “I was far too engrossed” he wasn’t, he had read the book countless times but found it easier to read than the Demons stoic silence. It was far too easy to see when Crowley wasn’t happy, especially minus his glasses, and Aziraphale didn’t like it one bit.

“I was asking if you had any alcohol” he groused, seemingly not meaning too.

“Of course” Aziraphale smiled brightly “what would you like, dear?” The expression, as always, seemed to warm the demon slightly. Which warmed the angel in turn. The fire crackled in Aziraphale’s fireplace and the angel noticed Crowley flinch, something that never ever happened*.

*beside that one time in France 1206 involving two cats and six monks.

Aziraphale stood himself up and wandered toward his collection of wines, and scotch for Crowley. The demon huffed, something that seemed to imply he didn’t care, so Aziraphale chose the scotch. Crowley liked that best.

“Thanks” Crowley took the glass stiffly, he usually draped himself over every possible surface but now remained like some sort of stick insect*. But the more Aziraphale looked, the more he saw; he was shivering sweating and his eyes were blown wider than usual. It was worrying.

*most likely a dead one, because he was extra still.

“Crowley” Aziraphale started “is something bothering you?” He kept his eyes on the Demon before him, fearing he’d disappear or turn into a snake.

“No” Crowley shifted in his seat, crawling within himself a little.

“Forgive me, But I don’t believe you” he kept his eyes locked on the demon, shifting slightly to face Crowley head on.

“Well, you should” Crowley huffed, narrowing his eyes for a moment. Aziraphale often thought about those eyes, one of his most favourite things about the demon before him.

“Crowley—“

“Angel, would you leave it alone?” Crowley hissed, stunning Aziraphale a little. He was used to the Demon being, well, a demon—but it still stung. He tried not to huff too loudly, and slumped back into his seat with a book. A few moments passed before Crowley shuffled. Aziraphale ignored the movement in front of him, instead focusing on the first edition ‘Alice in wonderland’ nestled in his lap.

“Angel” Crowley sounded a little whiny, or sad, Aziraphale couldn’t tell. But he didn’t reply, biting his cheek to stop any words from slipping out.

“Angeell” the demon tried again, and it was most definitely a whine “Angel I’m sorry”, Aziraphale looked up at this. An apology was not an often admittance from the demon, Aziraphale had to fight a smile. But upon seeing Crowley’s face the need to smile quickly disappeared.

“Crowley, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale tried again, meeting the demons very sad eyes (they may have also been scared but Aziraphale didn’t have time to wonder).

Crowley’s eyes shifted to the fireplace, then back to his Angel then to the fireplace again, “could you put it out?”

“Put it out—the fire?” His brows furrowed it confusion “you’ll freeze, dear”, the angel watched the demon grip his scotch glass.

“Please” Crowley refused to meet Aziraphale’s eyes “just—Please”,

“Okay” Aziraphale nodded warily “but I’m getting you a blanket, stubborn demon” he tutted, mostly to himself, as he got up to put out the fire. It didn’t particularly bother him, angels ran hot, but his Demon was a snake-cold blood and all. He had no idea why Crowley would want heat he usually relished, to disappear.

“Thank you, angel” Crowley mumbles as he sees the fire fizzle away.

“Really, you are so difficult sometimes” Aziraphale chided and he searched for a blanket to give the Demon “I know your a demon but you don’t have to—“ he turned and abruptly stopped talking as he slammed into the aforementioned demon.

Aziraphale all but froze as Crowley wrapped him in a hug, one arm pawing at the angels waist and the other tight around his shoulders.

“Hug me back” Crowley croaked into Aziraphale’s neck “please”,

“Of course” Aziraphale nodded a little sheepishly, he cannot place a time the pair had hugged before, “sorry” he pulled his arms up and wrapped them around Crowley’s sharp sides, relishing in the cool breeze that was his demon. He shifted his head a little and felt a flutter in his stomach when Crowley’s head followed suit, determined to stay nuzzled in the crook of his neck. He could smell the bonfire sort of smell that accompanied the angel to almost choking intensity and found himself wanting to fall into it.

“I do wish” Aziraphale spoke after a long moment of silence, just the steady and un-needed breaths of both beings “you would tell me what’s bothering you”.

“The fire” Crowley mumbled “I lost you in a fire” his grip on Aziraphale tightened and the angel squeezed back.

“Oh Crowley” Aziraphale softened into the hug a little more, his hand found its way (inexplicably) to the demons hair “I’m here now, soppy thing” he spoke with an endearment he felt deep in his soul.

“But your so—what if you went to sleep and left it on or—it caught your stupid long coat—or something” Crowley grumbled, clutching the angel ever closer.

A moment passed before Aziraphale spoke again “do you really think my coat is stupid?” He felt stupid for asking but he wore the same thing everyday and had to be sure Crowley hadn’t hated it all that time. The demon pulled away, he was smiling now and Aziraphale relaxed.

Crowley, very delicately, took hold of his angels face “no, it’s a brilliant coat”. Aziraphale found his breath catching as Crowley’s thumb stroked across cheekbone “your softer than I’d imagined” Crowley contemplates mostly to himself but delights in the giddy smile pawing over his angels face.

“Have you imagined often?” Aziraphale asks, fighting off his better nature with the help of Crowley’s hands on his face. The demon seems to be studying him like he was something he hadn’t seen before.

“Too often to recount” Crowley speaks without realising and wanted to run away before he felt Aziraphale’s hands tighten back around his waist. Crowley continued to study his angel, feeling that the time for playing it cool left when he entered the bookshop four hours ago. He had found Aziraphale’s hair some time ago and laced his fingers though the pearly locks, the sting of electricity was something he could deal with for even the chance to touch the angel before him.

“You must be getting cold” Aziraphale’s voice was a little hoarse, it filled Crowley’s stomach with butterflies.

“I don’t mind” the demon twisted a lock of Aziraphale’s hair around his finger before holding his face once more with a contented hum “bedsides your warm enough”.

“I don’t think we could stay like this all evening” Aziraphale laughed a little, wishing very much that they could stay like that all evening.

“Couldn’t we?” Crowley questioned

“Well—Perhaps, But I was hoping to take you to have breakfast tomorrow” it was the angels turn to study the other, Crowley’s expression pulsed with a smile causing his eyes to form a squint. Aziraphale couldn’t help himself and brought a hand upwards to trace the lines that smiling buried in the demons face, “you know, dear boy, I’ve never imagined how cold you felt” he laughed a little. It was like touching an ice cube, and Aziraphale wanted to melt as quick as he could manage too.

“Is it a bad thing?” Crowley felt a sudden, disgusting, thrum of insecurity.

“Of course not” Aziraphale scoffed, as if the idea was the most Abhorrent he’d ever heard, and it was. “No it’s—lovely”,

“Lovely” Crowley looked up with a grin “I’ve never heard that one before”.

“Well I don’t know why not” Aziraphale smiled up at the demon before him. It hurt Crowley somewhere deep down, it hurt him to look at those eyes and that face and that hair.

Then, suddenly but not at all unpredictably (to anyone else but the two idiots there anyway), Crowley’s lips crashed into the angels. He delighted in the little hum of surprise that fell from Aziraphale. His lips were the most exquisite thing Crowley had ever tasted, and at request of the angel he had tasted so many things.

Aziraphale praised the fact Crowley’s eyes were closed as his were blown wide in surprise. The demon tasted deliciously of everything and nothing all at once. He found his lips sunk into Crowley’s with undeniable ease and wondered why he hadn’t tried it sooner.

They pulled apart, and Crowley barely suppressed a whine of loss.

Aziraphale gripped onto Crowley’s jacket lapels, gravity was threatening to pull him very steadily toward the ground, as the demon held his waist a little desperately.

“Was—is that-was that okay?” Crowley fought the urge to disappear and not return for as long as he could manage.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure he could speak, so he pulled Crowley towards him. Crowley let a High pitch groan pull from his lips as his angel crashed into them. Aziraphale quickly understood why humans took so much joy in kisses, he liked this one very much. Crowley pawed at the Angel in front of him, a desperate attempt to pull Aziraphale closer as his lips fell away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time” he spoke softly, watching the demons eyes flick around his face.

“Why didn’t you?” Crowley knew he sounded desperate and fought the need to care. He had loved the angel since, in hindsight, the beginning. It was within his right to be miffed that Aziraphale hadn’t done anything sooner, not that he could be miffed for long.

“I’m unsure, i didn’t know how you would feel if I did” Aziraphale counted the many times Crowley’s lips had looked the very definition of temptation, and the many times he had resisted in typical angel fashion.

“I’ve wanted you to kiss me for 6000 years, Angel” Crowley studied the surprise and affection flooding Aziraphale’s eyes.

And so he did, again and then again and then again, again...he’s probably still doing it. 

Chapter Text

NewYork

1987

America was a decidedly large place, a huge expanse of land with no intention of getting any smaller. So why, Aziraphale thought, was Crowley right there.

The late 80’s, perhaps not one of Aziraphale’s favourites but by no means was it bad. He enjoyed some of the music, sometimes, and he liked some of the fashion—though did prefer his suits.

He had heard about the little bar a few weeks ago, specialising in just desserts. He had made a decisive plan to go then and there, so why? (Why god? Are you there? Are you listening! Why?!) was Crowley there.

It wasn’t that Aziraphale didn’t want to see Crowley, he wanted it more than anything, it was that whenever he did-he never wanted to stop. The demon, he had only recently, begun to call a good friend was one of his most favourite things. Being around Crowley filled the angel with more than his fair share of that buzzing, warm feeling in his stomach. His head tended to spin and he felt awfully flustered. As uncomfortable as that whole debacle was, it was worth it-and it was beautiful.

Crowley was beautiful.

He saw it on that very first day they met, he was the most beautiful thing Aziraphale had ever seen-and he had seen thousands of gods creations over the past few days. It would be blasphemy to proclaim the demon next to him as more gorgeous but a part of him wanted too so very desperately.

It was the hair he first noticed, and the hair he first noticed now in the present, long and curly and so bright. Then it was the eyes, they burrowed somewhere deep inside Aziraphale and never left. Then his smile, that deep rooted, eye crinkling, infectious smile. And Oh, how Aziraphale coverts that smile. It burst into his stomach and twisted it, caused his own lips to quirk and commited itself to memory within an instant. He loved it.

He loved Crowley.

And that was the problem, the big stupid in the way stupid problem, that Aziraphale couldn’t fix. He tried, he really really tried. He ignored him, for as long as he could stand which typically wasn’t long. He prayed, and got nothing back. He thought about the demon rejecting him, his feelings didn’t sway, and he resigned himself to never getting close enough to even begin the rejection .

Never even being close enough to touch .

It would burn, he thinks, and he wouldn’t care. Well, he would care for Crowley’s burning of course. Which is why he never tried, not a touch of the shoulder, not a brush of fingers, not a breath too close.

Yes, Aziraphale had resigned himself to nothing an awfully long time ago.

“Aziraphale, That you?” The demons voice cuts through his thoughts smoothly, head turning, ginger hair pulled up into a messy sort of fringe cut—those curls were back.

“Y-yes” Aziraphale returns a little hollowly “Crowley, lovely to see you” he can’t help it, he can’t help smiling so wide he could feel his eyes ache.

“Come, come—have a drink” he must be drunk, Aziraphale couldn’t remember a welcome this Merry in a while. Although the demon was never displeased to see him—it was usually the other way round. And out of fear more than anything, fear he’d do something stupid and embarrass himself-and all of heaven.

“I—yes” Aziraphale nodded, very much unable to say no to the demon “yes”.

He sidled next to Crowley, senses filling up all to quickly with the demon. The smell of bonfires and whatever lovely cologne he’s wearing these days. The hair, oh the hair, it was so soft looking and so curly—and so decidedly eighties (But he didn’t mind).

“Fancy seeing you here” Crowley spared him a glance, yellow eyes tipping over his aviators “angel” the word sent a very definite buzz down Aziraphale’s spine.

“I could say the same to you” Aziraphale returned, watching Crowleys fingers fiddle with his glass of scotch. Long, slender fingers with black painted nails.

“Oh me” Crowley rolled his head to the side “I’ve been tempting, priests and whatnot—a few miracles” He gleamed, Aziraphale swallowed upon mention of the arrangement .

“Ah. Yes” Aziraphale nodded

“So, what can I tempt you with?” Crowley, very thankfully, changed the subject.

“Oh I—“ Aziraphale smiled, and laughed a little breathy laugh “what are you drinking?”,

Scotch .

“Scotch” Crowley spun the amber liquid around disinterestedly “are you partaking?” He grins, he grins and Aziraphale’s knees wobble.

“Yes,” he smiles, trying not too “Why not”,

“Probably too many reasons why not, angel” Crowley nods to the bartender who nods back and pours two more scotches “anyway, what brings you here?”.

“Well I—I heard about the desserts” Aziraphale grins, mind drifting comfortably to the advert he’d seen a few weeks prior “they look divine”,

Crowley’s face twists at the word before he turns to Aziraphale “I’ll get the drinks, you get the food?” His brows raise beneath his glasses and Aziraphale knows, he truly does know, he shouldn’t agree. But he does, with a smile.

They now sat at the bar; an odd looking gentleman in a cream suit, and a tall Freddy Mercury sort with ginger hair-drinking scotch and eating a selection of pastries and ice cream—talking about whose idea microwaves were.

“Not ours” Crowley nodded, slurring slightly “I’d know, I would’ve taken credit”

“Well they’re not us” Aziraphale defended “ghastly things” He tutted, rolling the scotch around in his glass,

“Humans then” Crowley leant back in his chair, turning towards Aziraphale “very clever, humans” he grinned and Aziraphale’s heart jumped.

“Very clever” Aziraphale agreed, “not particularly nice though, don’t you think?”

“Well, no ones perfect” Crowley nodded towards the bartender again “but they are pushing it these days-even for a demon”

“I’m surprised” Aziraphale caught Crowley’s eyes, wide beneath his glasses,

“I may be a demon, angel, but I don’t condone hate crimes” Crowley’s voice dropped for a moment, twisting Aziraphale’s stomach into a not.

“No—I know, I’m sorry” he nodded, offering a small smile and hoping (praying) the demon would stay sat there.

“Another?” Crowley offered, Aziraphale found himself smiling,

“Yes, thank you”.

“What have you been doing since I last saw you?” Crowley asked a few minutes later, glasses falling a little askew on his face.

“Well I—some miracles and some” he paused “not miracles” Aziraphale wrapped his hands within themselves nervously “the shops been busy”,

“That’s good” Crowley turned to him, pulling off his glasses and studying the angel. Aziraphale’s breath caught very harshly in his throat, his heart clenched and his head swum with,,,something.

Those eyes, those beautiful yellow eyes .

“Yes. Quite” Aziraphale nodded,

“You alright, angel?” Crowley’s eyes squinted up at him, brows pulled together,

“Perfectly, why?” Aziraphale swallowed,

“Your—well your doing that thing you do, with your Hands” Crowley inspected the well manicured fingers wrapping around and back around Aziraphale’s wrist,

“Thing, thing-what thing?” Aziraphale looked down “oh” he smiled a little sheepishly and ceased the movement.

“You only do that when your nervous” the demon commented and Aziraphale couldn’t deny the little heady feeling being noticed like that gave him.

“Well I—I’m fine” Aziraphale brushes him off with a laugh, staring at his scotch.

Aziraphale took a bite of ice cream-relatively cooling against Crowley’s stare,

“Oh—you have to try this” he implored, the delicious taste overtaking his flushing cheeks and caught breath.

“What is it?” Crowley eyed the offending bowl before taking Aziraphale’s spoon and digging into the ice cream “oh” his eyes widened “oh that’s—good” he all but moaned, Aziraphale’s heart stopped.

“Honeycomb and mint” Aziraphale grinned “a fantastic combination”,

“Who comes up with this stuff” Crowley took another bite “it’s delicious”,

“Quite” Aziraphale gleamed, enjoying the smile overtaking Crowley’s face.

Crowley finished his ice cream, amongst multiple glasses of scotch and buying Aziraphale multiple glasses of wine. The music, previously upbeat (so up-beat Aziraphale had to miracle a lower volume) began to shift all of a sudden. It was soft and slow, swaying through the bar and Aziraphale found himself a little lost in it.

“Come on then angel,” Crowley startled Aziraphale out of his thoughts “a dance?”

Aziraphale’s heart stuttered in his chest, he looked up to meet Crowley’s eyes and nerve wracking grin, “Crowley, It’s 1986 we-we can’t dance together” he scoffed, breath becoming all too thin for the room they were in.

“Look around angel” Crowley’s voice was soft, his smile relaxing into his face,

Aziraphale turned his gaze to the bar around him “Oh” the angels mouth fell agape, there seemed to be only young men in the room; some hunched into corners, silly smiles on their faces or sitting in stiff stillness. Some were dancing, swaying to the music, heads close and arms pulled around each other. Some seemed heavy with the fear of what will happen outside the doors, some seemed defiant to it all.

Aziraphale couldn’t deny the want to be so close to the demon, head leant against his chest, hands pulled around him, fingers interlaced. The thought filled his body with unparalleled warmth, but unrelenting fear.

“We would burn” Aziraphale croaked, unable to meet Crowley’s gaze “or melt-or worse” he fiddled with his scotch glass, before fiddling with his own hands again. A much safer venture that didn’t remind him of the demon.

“Doubt it” Crowley hesitates for a moment before wrapping his hand around the angels “see” he smiles smugly as Aziraphale meets his gaze.

“Wh—“ the angel grasps onto Crowley’s hand Quicker and more desperately that he’d hoped “how?”, Crowley felt cold, like ice beneath his skin, but he didn’t care. It was more than beautiful.

“Does it matter?” Crowley grinned, hoisting Aziraphale up. He had to suppress a yelp as he flew upwards, alcohol spinning him a little towards the demon who held him upright, “You alright, angel?” He grinned, a grin that settled somewhere in Aziraphale’s chest, curled up and went to sleep there.

“Perfectly” Aziraphale managed, his hand intertwined quite securely into Crowley’s.

“So, a dance?” Crowley twisted his arm so he could pull the angel towards the other people dancing, a few slow moving couples the demon had been eyeing and envying for the whole evening “I promise not to go too fast”,

“Y-yes” Aziraphale nodded, just the thought of his demon wrapped around him was something he desperately wanted to feel.

Crowley led him forwards, Aziraphale tried very hard not to collapse, pulling him close as they stopped. Aziraphale felt Crowley’s chest on his, felt the demons arm around his waist and hand on his own. Despite living there for a serious amount of time, being this close to Crowley was the most heavenly he’d ever felt. His hands fell annoying limp to his sides in his panic, eyes blown wide, hand anchoring him to Crowley.

“Up here, angel” Crowley’s voice was soothing, it was soft and warm and buzzed in Aziraphale’s head, he unlocked their hands-Aziraphale struggled not to whimper at the loss-and pulled Aziraphale’s arm around his neck. The angel took note and brought his other arm to meet it. Crowley smiled down at him and Aziraphale’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. Then he felt both of Crowley’s arms on his waist, supportive and strong and right ,

“You know, I thought you danced” Crowley hummed, “were you lying?” He gleamed

“Of course not” Aziraphale tried to sound righteous (or something) but it was hard in the arms of his demon “I’ve never-danced like this before” his voice was shakier than he wanted, not a moment after he noticed this Crowley’s thumb began to rub soft semi-circles into his waist.

“Oh yes, your gavotte” Crowley smirked, his eyes flicking teasingly over Aziraphale’s face, bringing the angels cheeks to a new shade of pink.

“I’ll have you know the gavotte—“

“I’m kidding angel” Crowley smiled sweetly, Aziraphale felt himself being pulled ever closer and his breath caught “I’d love to see you gavotte one day”,

“Well—well I-“ Aziraphale shifted his eyes from Crowley to the wall to Crowley again,

“Relax” Crowley all but cooed “Relax angel” he pulled a hand up to stroke though the angels soft curls. Aziraphale lent far too quickly into the touch, “hmm?”

“Yes well—I’ll try” Aziraphale nodded, revelling in the feeling of Crowley’s cold hands skating across his head. The urge to get closer to the demon steadily took hold, Crowley was looking down at him with something he couldn’t distinguish. He leant inwards and rested his head in the crook of Crowley’s neck, pulling his arms to lace around the demons chest as he continued to leaf his hands through the white curls.

Crowley let out a contented hum as the pair swayed, “that’s better” he spoke a little soft, like something was catching in his throat as Aziraphale pressed closer-bathing in the bonfire and apple scent.

They stayed there, exactly like that, until the bar closed-upon which Aziraphale asked if Crowley wanted to come back to his for more scotch and some ice cream.

Very obviously, Crowley said yes.

Chapter Text

London

2019

“Is there something wrong, angel?” Crowley looked up from his scotch glass to meet the angels distracted gaze.

“No—well I don’t know particularly” Aziraphale’s face twisted in confusion, an expression Crowley has grown to admire.

“You make little to no sense these days, angel do you know that?” Crowley would be amused if he wasn’t worried for Aziraphale. If anything was hurting his angel he’d like to know, so he could kill it. Crowley shifted forward in his seat and pulled off his glasses.

“I’m sorry” Aziraphale looked sad, a look that threatened to break Crowley’s heart in two—if he had one, of course.

“Don’t be sorry” Crowley shook his head “talk to me, what’s eating you?”

“they’ll come for us” the angels face was crowded with unmistakable fear that stung Crowley with familiarity “and they’ll be angry—all wrath and vengeance and” a struggling beat passed “smiting*”,

*Aziraphale was, in a big way, against smiting.

“Oh Angel” Crowley blessed his all too soppy tone before correcting it quickly “we’ve still got some time, they seem to think we’re both immune to smiting” a grin fled across his face before dropping, his statement didn’t help the angels plight, “we can make a plan” Crowley was a little desperate now, to say the least, seeing his angel upset was one of the worst things imaginable “keep your little bookshop safe and make sure—“.

“I don’t care about the bookshop” Aziraphale sniffed, eyes rolling with glassy tears, as he stared into the fire.

“What—Azir-“ Crowley was almost speechless, not once has he heard a single bad word or even overly stressed outburst about the angels shop. It was always spoken about with the highest level of respect a bookshop could hold. It was the envy of every other shop on the street (they all remarked how ‘lucky’ but ultimately a little ‘annoying’ it was amongst themselves when it was asleep).

“I’m not—worried about the bookshop” the angel huffed, putting his wine glass down and refusing to meet Crowley’s eyes

“What do you mean your not worried about the bookshop?” Crowley all but scoffed, trying to sound less alarmed than he was. He leant forward again, surprising himself by placing a hand on Aziraphale’s knee, “what’s wrong, angel?”.

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s hand, a small smile fleeting across his face, before covering it with his own. Crowley’s pulse jumped, electricity surging through his veins as the angel looked up at him, “Your so very cold, dear”.

“Cold blooded” Crowley chuckled, finding the angel a little (a lot) endearing “what are you worried about, Angel?”

“I very much—I would hate to, lose you” Aziraphale looked up, meeting Crowley’s eyes—a dash of surprise rested in the yellow but mostly they were full of the demons own brand of kindness.

“You can’t lose me” Crowley returned “we’re mortal enemies anyway, enemies stick around—that’s their stick” Crowley bit back a chuckle despite himself

“But we’re not enemies” Aziraphale’s grip tightened on the demons hand “we’re not enemies Crowley, you are my friend” the angel looked more sad than anything and Crowley has to squash the jump in his ribs at the term “were on the same side now and anyone could take you” Aziraphale, who usually looked plump and happy and the definition soft, looked scared and very very small.

“angel” Crowley didn’t hesitate to lean forward, sinking onto his crossed legs in front of Aziraphale “you need to stop worrying” he all but cooed.

“I don’t know how else to be” Aziraphale’s hand tightened ever more around Crowley’s “they’ll be coming” the angels breath rattled in panic and Crowley’s stomach lurched “they—“

“Relax Angel” Crowley hummed, bringing his other hand to rest on Aziraphale’s arm, running his thumb in soft circles.

“If I Relax I won’t be prepared” Aziraphale felt tears threaten his eyes and tried very hard to push them away again*.

*Angel tears are a very sought after commodity, to people interested in that sort of thing.

“Prepared?” Crowley scoffed “Angel, you cant be prepared for everything-you’d stop living” he softened, with a little sigh “were we prepared for the apocalypse?” He questioned, knowing the answer far too well.

“Not Particularly” Aziraphale sniffed a little and this was the moment Crowley noticed the tear, small and sad and a little shimmery, and the moment his heart (that he most definitely had) broke in two.

“Come here” Crowley spoke in a half order that grabbed Aziraphale’s attention, nodding towards himself and the bookshops floor “come on”.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, then looked at their hands, before dropping to the floor (a little unceremoniously). Crowley watched the angel until their eyes met,

“I-we will be absolutely fine” the demon implored “even if we’re not, we shouldn’t stop living until they catch us” his eyes wandered the expanse of Aziraphale’s face “we’d never do anything, no ritz, no books no nothing” he sighed “hm?”

“I’m—scared Crowley” there was another tear now and it was swiftly joined by another. The demons stomach lurched and turned over in his stomach, the lump in his throat grew and grew as he watched. He couldn’t take much more of it and found his hand moving to Aziraphale’s jaw, it burned but it was beautiful. He stroked his thumb across the soft skin and almost lost himself in it.

“Stop crying, angel” Crowley’s voice had turned into something softer than anyone had ever heard it, “Please” he implored, desperate to stop his angels pain. He wiped a tear, feeling it fizz against his skin, from Aziraphale’s blotchy face.

“I can’t I—“ Aziraphale choked “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here-if they killed you” he pulled in a ragged breath and intertwined their fingers. Crowley swore he had never felt this many emotions at once; he felt utterly helpless to comfort the angel, he was angry at heaven and hell for making life so bloody difficult, at the same time his ribs burst and his heart twisted at Aziraphale’s fingers intertwined with his own and the angels soft skin beneath his hand.

“I am here” Crowley pawed another tear “I’m here angel,” he found his fingers lacing into Aziraphale’s white hair, inexplicably soft and beautiful “I have no intentions of going anywhere-dead or alive” he offered a small laugh which was reciprocated in a tiny one before he wiped another tear.

Red, itchy looking eyes fluttered up to meet his “I’m sorry this was—“

“Shh” Crowley shook his head “Don’t be sorry, angel, be anything but sorry”, the thought that his angel shouldn’t have opened up was a horrid one Crowley didn’t want to foster, even for a second.

Crowley jumped a little, electricity surging through every pore, as Aziraphale’s hand came up to hold his own cheek. The angel smiled one of those smiles that warmed Crowley so furiously he would never be cold again, “my dear...”

my my my my my my my. Mine.

Crowley’s head spun, eyes blown far wider than he wanted them. Aziraphale’s hand stilled for a moment, before it twisted and he brushed his knuckles along his demons jaw. Crowley swallowed, nerves pricking under Aziraphale’s touch. Very quickly and far too slowly Aziraphale leant inwards, so close Crowley could feel his breath for a painfully exquisite second before soft lips brushed his own.

Crowley’s stomach twisted with something hot and fizzing. Aziraphale’s lips pulled nervously at Crowley’s, the demons hands tightened and he let out a strangled whimper. The noise seemed to startle Aziraphale backwards, noting Crowley’s wide eyes and stunned expression. Aziraphale’s own eyes dashed with fear then embarrassment and Crowley couldn’t stop them from flooding.

“I’m—no I’ve-I’m sorry—I-“ the angel stuttered, fear clawing at every corner of his body as his demon stared back “I didn’t—I’m-“ Aziraphale was stilled abruptly as Crowley’s hand snaked to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer and into another kiss.

It was Aziraphale’s turn to make a sound and Crowley could listen to it forever, wrapping himself closer to the angel. Legs encased legs, hands pulled and grabbed and Aziraphale would’ve thought it was an entirely too messy affair if it wasn’t so perfect.

They pulled apart after what seemed like eternity, Crowley rested his head against Aziraphale’s jaw-breathing in the smell of mint and apple like it was the last thing left to breathe. To Crowley, he was.

“I don’t want you to be afraid” Crowley spoke, his voice was languid but held nerves trickling below its surface.

“I’ll try” Aziraphale’s hand came to rest in Crowley’s red locks.

Chapter Text

Crowley had arrived, picnic basket in tow, on a lovely Wednesday afternoon. He requested the angel join him on a picnic, and well, Aziraphale was more than happy to oblige. Miracle performed so they had two lovely bottles of wine and a picnic blanket as they settled into Crowley’s Bentley.

The park was, somehow, miraculously quiet. Screaming children had returned home, canoodling couples left to find quiet corners and yapping dogs had taken the day off*.

*visiting relatives and such-like, some even went for pedicures.

It was on this particular picnic Aziraphale found himself wholly distracted, it didn’t seem to bother Crowley as the two of them could sit in comfortable silences for days on end, by all the Daisies. They seemed somewhat more alive and very happy to be there*. Their white petals were gleaming and their yellow centres were positively glowing.

*they were, very happy in fact and very confused as to why they were plucked from the ground by an Angel a few moments later.

Aziraphale had never been one for daisy chains, he’d only ever made one once and it was a fairly atrocious attempt by all standards, but he felt a distinct urge to make one on this particular Wednesday afternoon.

This was something Crowley didn’t notice, he was sprawled across their annoyingly tartan picnic blanket, head resting in Aziraphale’s plush lap, drifting in and out of contented sleep. He was half dreaming, of Ancient Greece with Freddy Mercury dressed as a sailor, when he felt a ticklish sort of feeling over his cheek.

He ignored it for as long as possible, scrunching his eyes and flicking his snake-like tongue out to try and smell whatever it was, but eventually he had to peel his eyes open. He came face to face with an assault of Daisies, wobbling in Aziraphale’s well-manicured fingers. The angels face was a picture, brows furrowed in deep concentration*, tongue poking out from his lips that Crowley stared at far too often, hands tense but ever so carefully gripping the small chain of Daisies.

*making daisy chains was about as hard as tasks got if the angel was concerned.

“Morning angel” Crowley smiled, sleep heavy voice causing Aziraphale’s eyes to dart towards the sound.

“Oh dear, did I wake you up?” Aziraphale looked guilty, pausing mid chain, brows furrowing in concern.

“No, course not” Crowley lied, he was a demon after all “whatyoumaking?” His eyes tried to stay trained on Aziraphale’s features but kept getting yanked away by the swinging pendulum of Daisies.

“The Daisies looked so pretty” Aziraphale began, smile pulling at his rosy cheeks fantastically “I was determined to make a good daisy chain, more wine?” Aziraphale’s gaze shifted to Crowley’s empty glass for a moment.

The demon wanted to say yes but he also wanted every single atom in the area to stay in the exact same spot, so he was able to savour the angel for as long as he could, so decided against it.

“I’m fine for now” his hands came to rest contentedly over his stomach but wanted desperately to hold the hands that were fiddling delicately with Daisies.

“Not like you” Aziraphale’s concentrated state shifted to a little smile for a moment.

“You’ve neglected our book for daisy chains angel, that’s not like you” Crowley spoke fondly, with an undeniable smile that Aziraphale returned two fold.

“Would you rather I read?” The angel found Crowley’s eyes for a moment before returning to his daisy chain,

“No” Crowley replied, the idea of losing the view was a terrible one “I’m fine like this” he smiled as Aziraphale huffed, obviously on a particularly tricky daisy, a little sort of determined huff that stuck somewhere in Crowley’s chest and warmed it like a fire.

“Would you read a little?” Aziraphale asked, expression steeling in annoyance as a daisy broke, “I am curious to find out what happens next, but I’m busy”.

Crowley Hated reading out loud, especially to his angel, he tended to get way too involved in the story and he’d forget to stop himself hissing. The hissing was just another reminder him and Aziraphale were not meant to be together, having picnics and sleeping in each other’s laps. He was going to tell Aziraphale no, I’ve spontaneously forgotten how to read, until Aziraphale spoke again.

“You have a beautiful reading voice my dear” he looked down at Crowley with what one could only describe as softness, endearing eyes and a bright smile “hissing or no, would you?” He raised his brows, and Crowley could feel something melting in his stomach.

“Alright then” the demon croaked, clearing his throat a little frantically, before grabbing the book and finding their particular page “If he knew, if he only knew that I was giving him every chance to put two and two together and come up with a number bigger than—“ he stopped himself, finding the book a little more than telling, Aziraphale’s daisy chain production distracting him completely.

It was hard to read at the best of times, sitting in Aziraphale’s book shop and curled around the angel, but this was something else entirely. The angel fiddling around above him was more than distracting, the little hums of discontent kept on pulling him from the book in an attempt to watch whatever was causing them. It didn’t take long until he had ceased reading all together.

“Have you always found daisy chains this interesting?” Aziraphale spoke suddenly, almost making Crowley jump.

“Something like that” Crowley returned, annoying finding that the daisy chain was almost finished.

“Well, it’s nearly done” Aziraphale smiled down at Crowley fro a moment before speaking again “give me your arm please dear?” He said, eyeing the demon expectantly,

“Wh—why?” Crowley’s brows furrowed in confusion as Aziraphale reached for the demons arm “Az-“,

“Shh” Aziraphale chuckled, “just pass it here, stubborn thing” he caught Crowley’s wrist and pulled it into his lap.

Crowley felt his pulse quicken immeasurably under the angels touch, he was sure the angel could feel it too. Aziraphale turned Crowley’s wrist around for a moment before laying it carefully on his leg, “are you alright dear?”,

“Perfectly” Crowleys voice was hoarse as he spoke, cursing it silently “what are you doing?” He questioned, focusing on the brush of Aziraphale’s soft fingers on his wrist.

“Giving you the daisy chain” Aziraphale spoke softly, tapping the demons arm once he’d secured it “there you go”,

Crowley brought his arm forward, staring at the little bracelet, he felt something choke in his chest, a lump formed in his throat and he quickly tried to swallow it all away. It was beautiful, messy and more than delicate and it was from Aziraphale.

And so he kept it, he kept it on the drive to Aziraphale’s bookshop, he kept it when he arrived home, he kept it the following day as he was scaring his plants, he kept it when he met Aziraphale for lunch, when he visited for wine and scotch that evening.

The only problem was, daisy chains tend to die-very quickly. Crowley couldn’t stand the thought of that so simply didn’t expect it too, and it didn’t. It stayed, hidden under his sleeve, or in his pocket or even tucked under one of his feathers, constantly.

It followed him to museums, on holidays, to that one run in with the priest and the nun, to a particularly scathing meeting with hastur and beyond. It stayed very well hidden, if Crowley did say so himself, all these times.

It stayed hidden until, a year later, Aziraphale found it.

It was the sort of Friday afternoon that could go on forever and you wouldn’t mind in the slightest. Crowley and Aziraphale sat, open book and sandwiches close by, on their same tartan blanket in their usual spot. It was their 67th picnic and it was no different than the others in any noticeable way*. Crowley had resigned to glaring at a particularly forward duck whilst Aziraphale read his first edition happily.

*it was different, the air was different and people had the distinct notion to give the two people their privacy. Nobody knew what for particularly, but it felt like it was the right thing to do.

Crowley had had such a good time, that he’d forgotten to put the daisy chain in his pocket instead of on his wrist. He didn’t notice this, however, until it was too late.

“Crowley, my dear, would you pass me the wine?” Aziraphale asked, eyes pawing at his book as Crowley’s insides melted.

“I’m busy” Crowley whined, reaching for the wine bottle anyway.

“Whatever with?” Aziraphale spared a glance to the demon who was glaring at a duck who was glaring back “really dear” he chastised, smile pulling at his lips.

“I don’t trust ducks” Crowley thrust the bottle blindly towards the angel, he only noticed something was wrong when he was met with absolute silence, “Angel?”

“You kept it” Aziraphale spoke like something had caught in his throat, a heavy but almost silent whisper.

“I kept—“ Crowley was more than confused, for just a moment, before he turned round to see Aziraphale’s eyes glued to the daisy chain around his wrist.

“It’s been—well it’s been a year” Aziraphale’s soft lips pulled into a smile so full of endearment Crowley felt it prickle along his skin “oh my dear” he wrapped his hand around Crowley’s wrist before the demon could protest.

Crowley had to bite back any and all sort of noises that wanted to spill out of him as Aziraphale’s soft, slightly trembling, fingers skated across his skin. One hand moved, very suddenly but oh so gently, to intertwine with Crowley’s own. Fingers wrapping around fingers, thumb skating the back of Crowley’s cold hand.

“I didn’t—it” Crowley attempted to defend himself before all his thoughts stopped, Aziraphale was running a finger in circles around his wrist-brushing against the daisy chain-painfully gently.

“It still looks—how has it not died?” Aziraphale spared a glance to Crowley, breath shallow and eyes blown wide, and offered a comforting smile.

“I—“ Crowley stuttered, willing his voice to be less hoarse “well I kept it, alive” he struggled, against the burning embarrassment in his chest coupled with the distinct comfort of the angels touch.

“Oh you are—Crowley my dear you are so sweet” Aziraphale’s smile had doubled into an outright beam, almost blinding Crowley as he shrunk away from the angels words.

Sweet? He wasn’t sweet. He was a demon and so utterly in love with the angel in front of him that anything other than ‘you go too fast for me’ was instantly rejected as a fantasy.

As if he could sense Crowley pulling away mentally Aziraphale held his wrist closer. Studying the skin at an alarmingly close range, “it-i didn’t—it was just-“ Crowley choked.

“Why did you keep it?” Aziraphale asked, thumb circling the demons slender wrist.

‘Because anything you give me is more precious than any other stupid little thing in the world’ is what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t, instead he said “well it was our—first picnic and I-“ it wasn’t a complete lie “I wanted a souvenir”.

Aziraphale beamed, meeting Crowley’s eyes with something the demon couldn’t recognise in the slightest but it seemed so...warm.

Crowley wanted to escape, he didn’t deserve that look, those eyes, that smile, That gorgeously warm expression. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve any of it. Not one single shred of the angels kindness should be reserved for him. A terrible thing, to waste kindness on a demon. He turned away, feeling embarrassed and wholly underserving and hideously scorched by nothing And everything.

“Oh Crowley, do look at me dear?” Aziraphale tried, met with only a little shuffle of Crowley’s body. Aziraphale made a little noise of discontent before Crowley froze completely, feeling the chaste press of Aziraphale’s lips on his wrist. He turned, eyes wide and pooling, breath catching in his chest audibly.

Aziraphale didn’t look up, he just pressed another kiss into Crowleys shaking wrist. The demon choked up a sort of half sound prompting Aziraphale to look up, “are you okay?” A tone of worry settled in the angels voice for a moment before Crowley managed to nod, a little frantically.

Crowley almost growled as Aziraphale kissed the spot again, lips dragging against the pale skin, hand stroking circles into his shaking palm. He couldn’t move, he swore he had been stuck to the picnic blanket with some sort of force he couldn’t place. Perhaps it was the 6000 years he’d been waiting for Aziraphale’s lips on him but he didn’t want to think about that, not with Aziraphale’s lips on him.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale met the demons eyes and Crowley almost melted then and there, “should I sto—“,

“No” Crowley spoke quickly “no angel anything—anything but that”,

“Good” Aziraphale smiled, watching as Crowley’s breath caught “Come here dear” the angel tugged at Crowley’s wrist and very suddenly Crowley felt that stab again. That stab of disgust and undeserving and Aziraphale’s eyes were too kind, they were too kind and they hurt.

Crowley’s thoughts stopped as a hand rose to cup his cheek, thumb rolling against his sharp cheekbone, “whats wrong dearest?” Aziraphale asked, voice soft and so caring Crowley felt a lump claw up his throat.

“I—angel I don’t” Crowley looked down, watching a little ladybug traverse their picnic blanket “I don’t deserve you-this” he gestured to their picnic “any of this”

“Sweet thing” Aziraphale cooed, pulling emotions from Crowley’s chest and planting them on the ground below, “whatever do you mean?” The angels other hand was still drawing circles on Crowley’s own and he couldn’t do anything but feel it and remember it and burn it into memory.

“You, angel—your so” Crowley almost choked a sob but caught himself, forcing the feeling further and further down “so good and I’m a demon and we’re—“,

“Shshsh” Aziraphale cooed, scooting ever closer to the demon “no I won’t have any of that” the angel tutted “that won’t do”, Crowley gasped as a kiss pressed into his jaw, soft and sweet and so full of love “you deserve the world”,

There’s a feeling, you get it after a long night with people you love, or when you return home from holiday to a long lost house, or when your awake for the sunrise, or when the angel you’ve loved for 6000 years kisses your jaw and says you deserve the world.

Crowley felt it and he fell into it, pushing himself further toward the angel and planting their lips together in a messy kiss that was no less beautiful for it.

Aziraphale felt like the sun, like feathers, like old books, like 6000 years of want, like warmth, like Aziraphale.

Crowley could’ve discorporated then and there and he wouldn’t have minded. This feeling went away quickly as he heard Aziraphale whimper, hands gripping onto Crowley’s waist, he wanted to hear that sound forever.

Aziraphale pulled away, panting and leaning his head on Crowley’s, eyes heavy as they found The demons. Crowley found that he couldn’t form any words, his lips were languid and stunned and burning a little but it was bliss.

“Lovely thing” Aziraphale mused, regarding Crowley like he was lovely, it filled the demon with a sort of warmth that couldn’t be found in either heaven or hell. It snaked and settled in his stomach, reaching his toes and fingers and fizzing into sparks in the air.

“Angel—“ Crowley croaked, a sob resting in his throat—it was too close to spilling out “Angel I—“ he tried again,

“Don’t tell me to stop” Aziraphale spoke quickly, emotion hiding in the corners of his voice “I don’t think I could”,

“Angel—“ Crowley spoke again, this time Aziraphale pulled away—concerned eyes tracing the demons face.

He would stop, of course he’d stop. He’d stop and it would hurt so very much but he could never hurt the demon.

“N-no Angel” Crowley pawed at Aziraphale’s coat lapels, pulling him into another kiss. This time it was a little more comfortable, slipping into a position they didn’t know existed till that very second, it was needy but it was soft and tender and quiet*.

*A quiet kiss, Aziraphale would call it years later, a quiet kiss that was so deafening he could hardly breathe.

Then Crowley sobbed, a choked noise settling on Aziraphale’s lips, clinging onto the angel in fear of falling a second time.

“Dearest” Aziraphale cooed, pulling back a little as Crowley nuzzled into the crook of his neck, running his hand along Crowley’s shaking back.

“Azira—“ Crowley choked “I—“ he twisted his arms around the angels neck and curled, in a very serpentine sort of way, into Aziraphale’s warm lap.

“You can cry, my love” Aziraphale spoke softly, in a halve whisper, as Crowley sobbed “I’ve been awfully cruel”, his voice sounded heavier for a moment—Crowley disliked it so summoned all his strength to reply with more than a strangled sob this time.

“It’s—you haven’t—what?” He realised he wasn’t making much sense,but presumed the angel would understand, as another sob clawed at his throat.

“I’ve—I’ve wanted this-you-like this for” Aziraphale paused for a moment, mind drifting away to the night in 1941, feeling the wash of emotion he felt then just as well now. The shock as Crowley hopped into the church, risking his life for the stupid mess made by the angel. The wave of relief upon seeing his books, Crowley’s little demonic miracle, then the next wave of pure love and adoration. He couldn’t think properly for a long time, a mixture of him being a little more than stunned and a whole lot more than terrified, “for so, so long dear and I—I was scared and I didn’t say anything and I—“ Aziraphale stopped as his voice broke a little, he wasn’t going to cry-not when Crowley needed comfort.

“How long?” Crowley nuzzled further into Aziraphale, the angel could feel the others lips moving against his collarbone. He could also feel tears, that weren’t his, drying on his skin.

“The church” Aziraphale spoke hastily, fearing he’d send the demon running in the opposite direction, “when you-saved my books but I think, I’ve always felt-felt for you in a way I’ve—that I’ve never felt for any other” Aziraphale paused as Crowley shuddered, another sob breaking from his strained chest “dearest I’m so sorry” he ran a shaking hand through Crowley’s hair and felt the demon melt.

“I’ve always felt—I could feel love from

You, I could and I was too scared I was so, scared” the angel deflated, fingers intertwined with Crowley’s ginger locks “if you can’t forgive me dear I understand I—“ Aziraphale’s rambling was cut short by a soft kiss feathered onto his collarbone, then another a little higher, then another and another and he could’ve sworn he discorporated as Crowley came to face him; tear stained and shaking but with a small smile pulling softly at his lips.

“I can always forgive you” Crowley sniffed “there’s nothing to forgive, you were scared and rightfully so” the demon leant forward to drop a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead as the angel Keened to the touch, Crowley paused for a moment before placing a soft kiss on his angels brow.

He spoke again, voice strained against all the many feeling that had built up for 6000 years-and were only just seeing the sunlight, “I’ve loved you since Eden” He croaked, a whisper Aziraphale wouldn’t have been able to hear unless he was who he was.

“You? What?” Aziraphale pulled back, eyes wide in shock as they met Crowley’s-glassy and a little sad but so full with love Aziraphale might’ve melted.

“You gave away that sword” Crowley hummed, fingers trailing across Aziraphale’s jaw “and I—“ his voice broke again, a tear dropping from his yellow eyes—glasses discarded some time ago.

“Crowley” Aziraphale spoke for no reason in-particular as he swept the demons tears away with soft hands.

Crowley’s fingers skated across Aziraphale’s jaw, taking in the soft feel of the angels skin and the hitch of breath as Crowley’s slender fingers stopped at Aziraphale’s lips, “say I can kiss you again” he pleaded, tracing the plump lines of the angels lips.

Aziraphale smiled, a watery sort of smile that buried itself in Crowley’s chest, before raising a hand to hold the demons wrist once more and pressing a soft kiss into the pads of his fingers.

“Angel—” Crowley’s free hand curled around and buried itself in the angels soft hair, resulting in a satisfied hum and another kiss to the demons fingers.

Crowley, having abandoned all hope of seeming cool calm and collected a while ago, let out a growl before crashing their lips together once more.

This time the kiss was Hungry, no less loving, but 6000 years of want do one or two things to a demon. It stunned Aziraphale for a moment before he melted into it joyously.

Aziraphale gasped as Crowley’s tongue ran across his bottom lip, the demon moving impossibly closer against him, one hand resting on the others thigh and the other still circling that daisy chained wrist.

Ordinarily Aziraphale would’ve had qualms about this sort of behaviour in a public park. But he noted, as Crowley tipped his chin up to greedily claim the angels neck with little kisses and scrapes of teeth and ‘oh good lord Crowley is that your tongue?’ , all the birds stood still and frozen in the air; the trees weren’t moving and nothing else but all of Crowley’s little sounds could be heard.

He was very sure he didn’t do it, and almost certain Crowley couldn’t in the current predicament. He didn’t know who it was, he didn’t really have the thought process to care.

Whoever it was wouldn’t tell anyone this, as she made the earth stand still, but she was smiling down at them after 6000 long years of waiting.

Chapter Text

London was, to Adam and the them, a very exciting place to be. There were big buildings and huge crowds and those big double decker buses only Pepper had seen before. They were all suitably excited, even more so when Adam suggested they visit the angel and demon they hadn’t seen since the apocawasnt.

The angel was exceedingly pleased to see them, ushering them in and making sure there were biscuits and hot chocolate in abundance*. They piled onto the sofa, that was usually reserved for Crowley’s sprawling, whilst Aziraphale sat opposite.

*he was really really looking for an excuse to close the shop and this was perfect, seeing Adam and the them was very lovely too. They were a very agreeable group of children after all.

They spoke of Tadfield, the apocanot, (“oh that’s a marvellous name for it adam, well done”) dog, the horsemen and the very burning Bentley. Adam had copious amounts of questions on god, on Satan, and on why he sneezes when he looks at the sun (“it makes no sense, it’s just the sun it doesn’t have...pollen”). Pepper asked if Aziraphale had any books by female authors, Aziraphale was happy to lend her some-they weren’t first editions. Wensleydale asked why god decided to make eye eyes because they are “really stupidly ugly”. Brian asked if Aziraphale had any ice cream, Aziraphale did but said he didn’t to save his sofa.

He didn’t have an answer for all of it, but he tried his best.

Adam was, save the time he tried to destroy the whole world, a very nice young man. He was polite, R.P Tylers opinion didn’t count, and kind and always tried his best not to ask too many untoward questions. But when he saw Aziraphale’s pocket wriggling, for the sixth time in two minutes, he couldn’t help himself.

“Mr fell?” Adam eyed the angel in front of him a little suspiciously, “what’s that in your pocket?” He watched as Aziraphale looked to his pocket, a smile spreading across his face.

“Aziraphale, please” He gleamed before reaching into his pocket “not to worry it’s only Crowley”.

This was a strange thing for the them to hear, they had seen Crowley and he was tall and spikey and wouldn’t fit in that pocket even if he wanted too. They shared a look which was supposed to say ‘I’m almost certain a man couldn’t fit in that pocket’. Adam pulled a face as if to say ‘well he’s not a man is he, really, he’s a demon’. To which Brian pulled a face as if to express ‘I’m pretty sure he was still man shaped’, which prompted Pepper’s reply of  ‘this is all a bit silly, since when could anything past the size of a hamster fit in pockets anyway?’.

Wensleydale didn’t say anything, or make a face as if to say something, as he was too busy watching a small, jet black snake wriggle in Aziraphale’s hands.

“Oh come now” Aziraphale chastised “you cant sleep forever, we have guests, stop wriggling dear” he stroked the snakes small head and looked up to meet the wide eyed gaze of the them.

The snake was, certainly, the most amazing snake any of them had seen. Adam had caught a grass snake once and peppers cousin had a pet corn snake, but this snake was far more magnificent.

Yellow eyes squinting at the group, the snake wrapped himself around Aziraphale’s fingers, head resting on the angels pale wrist.

“Woah!” Adam beamed “he’s so cool, I didn’t know your friend was a snake”, the boy stood up and stepped towards the little snake, watching as it licked the angels wrist every now and then.

“If my friend was a snake that would be the first thing I’d tell everyone” Wensleydale peered, due to a minor fear of snakes, over Adams shoulder “does he eat mice?” His eyes flicked to Aziraphale’s for a moment.

“No—well he doesn’t really eat” Aziraphale mused, turning his hand so Brian could get a better look “besides he is only a snake some of the time”, at this Crowley’s non existent eyebrow quirked.

“The sssnake” He hissed, causing the group to gasp in unison and rush ever closer to the snake “I’m the ssnake, angel” he curled around Aziraphale’s thumb, sparing a glance at the delighted gaze of the children.

“It can talk” pepper marvelled “it can really, properly talk” She beamed.

“The snake? What does that mean?” Brian asked, chomping on a digestive Aziraphale had been trying to miracle away for fifteen minutes now—some biscuits can resist miracles.*

*digestives are really the ones to watch for but custard creams can be sneaky too.

“He was the first snake, the snake that tempted eve to eat the apple in the garden” the angel watched the demon with interest as Crowley looked back.

The children didn’t really know what to call to call that particular look but it felt like a lot of days and years piled on top of each other like old schoolbooks (“are they married?” “I should think so, looks like they are” “they didn’t have wedding rings” “it’s an angel and a demon who knows how their weddings work”).

“Woah” Adam murmured,

“Bit small, isn’t he?” Wensleydale furrowed his brows in the sort of way which made people believe he was a lot more clever than he was “shouldn’t he be big and scary?” He eyed Aziraphale with the question,

“Sscary” Crowley hissed “I’m ssscary, I’ll sshow you ssscary” the snake turned and twisted in Aziraphale’s hand, eyes trained on Wensleydale who let out an audible gulp before Aziraphale pulled the snake back.

“No you won’t, you beast” the angel chided, scratching just the right spot on the snakes belly—Crowley very embarrassingly curled into Aziraphale’s hand almost instantly.

“Your snake likes belly rubs?” Peppers brows furrowed in confusion “snakes don’t like belly rubs” she shook her head defiantly, having very much settled on the fact that snakes don’t like belly rubs at least three years prior when she met her cousins corn snake*.

*bertie, the corn snake, did in-fact love belly rubs and tried to receive them to no avail.

“I don’t know much about snakes, admittedly, but this one does” Aziraphale smiled down at his friend who seemed to smile back but it was hard to tell with a snake.

Crowley shivered a little, twisting in Aziraphale’s hand as he shot the children a menacing look, before starting to grow. Their eyes widened in unison and Wensleydale leapt behind the sofa.

Crowleys form shifted and he was no longer a tiny snake and was now as long as both of Aziraphale’s arms, which he was wrapped around quite snugly. Aziraphale tutted, a smile pulling at his lips “I will need my arms dear”,

“For what?” Crowley returned, somehow managing to grumble even as a snake, before twisting around the angels stomach and slithering up to rest his head on the crook of Aziraphale’s neck,

“We have guests” Aziraphale watched the children as they peered at the black snake, now adorned with shifting luminescent scales on its belly.

“They don’t count” the snake snapped, a feat that Crowley was very proud of—it was extremely hard for a snake to snap.

“Someone’s a grumpy snake today” Aziraphale teased, turning his attention back to the children “more biscuits?”

“Is that why he’s a snake?” Adam asked, brows furrowed toward the pair, “is he only a snake when he’s grumpy?”,

At this the angel laughed, a sweet sort of sound that the children would later remark sounded a little like birdsong (“definitely sounded like a harp” “no no, your wrong it was like piano music” “your both wrong, it sounded like birds” “oh that’s right!”).

“What do you think?” Aziraphale eyed the especially grumpy snake “hmm?”,

“I think” Crowley groused, raising his head for just a moment to grin at the children “they should be getting back to their school trip” he watched with near elation as the children’s faces dropped.

“A school—oh dear lord, where are you supposed—are you supposed to be with your school?” Aziraphale exclaimed, shock and horror greeting him in equal doses.

“N—well, yeah” Adam replied sheepishly as Crowley chuckled “yeah but—“,

“No buts” Aziraphale looked more stern than Adam had seen him before and the boy tried very hard to not gulp “I’ll send back to them” the angel eyed them with a mix of ‘oh bother I’ve stolen four schoolchildren’ and ‘they bunked off a school trip to come and see us, how exciting! Oh we must be cool ’.

“Your too ssoft angel” Crowley gleamed from his very warm and very comfortable position “make them walk”,

“Make them?” Aziraphale spluttered “make them walk Crowley are you mad? Through London! In rush hour! Make them walk, preposterous” he chided, shooting Crowley a little glare to which the snake stuck out his tongue.

“Right” Aziraphale retuned his gaze, as stern as he could make it, to the children in question “do you know where your class will be?” He asked.

“Yes” Adam nodded “the London eye”*

*Adam, in fact, didn’t know. But he assumed he and his friends would have a great time on the London eye, all whilst making it home in time for tea—so they did.

“Right. Well, hold on tight” Aziraphale sighed, imagining the London eye—he and Crowley took a ride on it once and they’ve vowed never to go back*, “it was very lovely to see you all children, have a good trip” the angel couldn’t resist a bright smile and definitely couldn’t resist sending them back with extra sandwiches and ‘fizzy pop’ as he calls it.

*turns out, Crowley doesn’t like heights. It also turns out, people on the London eye don’t like snakes.

With a click the children were gone, leaving only biscuit crumbs and muddy foot prints. Aziraphale sighed happily, turning to the snake who was slithering back around his arm, “They bunked school to see us, should we be worried?”.

Crowley looked up at the angels furrowed brows and little worried frown, trying to fight a smile “nah, they’re not misssing much” he returned, nuzzling Aziraphale’s hand “take it as a compliment angel”.

“Oh” Aziraphale smiled, “alright then” he turned to Crowley for a moment “would you like to go for dinner dear?” He asked softly, the snake opening one eye to meet his own “or would you rather stay there for a while?”.

Crowley could feel A little warm feeling in his chest at the angels words. Adam was half correct as it turns out. when Crowley was grumpy he preferred being a snake, not because it was particularly cathartic in any way, but because he could very easily curl into the angels hand or laze about Aziraphale’s stomach, being able to tuck his head into the crook of the angels neck was also a bonus.

Aziraphale was always very good with this, understanding of it*, so he was very good at allowing Crowley to do just that-for as long as he needed.

*understanding meaning, not mentioning it as Crowley felt very embarrassed of this fact and would surely go to sleep for 500 years.

“I think I’d like to sstay like thiss, if that’ss alright angel” Crowley hummed, tucking his head into Aziraphale’s sleeve.

“Of course dear” Aziraphale smiled, he leant forward and picked up his first edition, before settling into the sofa.

A little while later Crowley would ask him to read out loud, and he would be all too happy to oblige.

He always was.