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As Aziraphale hurries up the stairs to Crowley's flat, worry making him all jittery, clouding his mind. He almost stumbles twice. Of course, he could have miracle himself closer, right to the front door or even inside Crowley’s flat, but- what if it is heaven or hell who are causing Crowley trouble, like he first feared when the demon wasn’t to be found?
Yes, Crowley said that he was fine, but he didn't sound fine and it would be just like Crowley to recognise the danger and try to keep Aziraphale safe by not telling him anything. In that case, a miracle so close would be drawing unwanted attention- he needs the benefit of surprise on his side.
Aziraphale opens the door- it’s unlocked, but then it never is. Crowley knows that everyone who poses a threat to him wouldn’t be stopped by a lock, and he doesn’t care about his material possessions enough to bother with security either, other than Aziraphale he even miracles his clothes.
The only room in the flat that does have a lock is the one that holds his plants. And when Aziraphale approaches it now, he can hear noises- someone moving around- and a groaning, no, it’s still a hissing sound, definitely Crowley…
Miracling the door wide open, Aziraphale freezes at the scene in front of him.
There’s no-one here but a massive black snake, yet it’s undeniably Crowley. It doesn’t matter that Aziraphale has only seen this shape of him once before out of the corner of his eye, six thousand years ago: he would recognise those eyes anywhere.
Crowley is sprawled on top of the windowsill, having been basking in what little sunlight he can soak up, surrounded by plants. When he sees Aziraphale, he shrinks back, trying to hide, and knocks over one of his precious plants in the process. Aziraphale hurries forward to catch it, and when he puts the plant on the ground and looks back up, he is suddenly a lot closer to Crowley than before.
The demon is looking at him, frozen like a statue, hasn’t even spoken since Aziraphale came in- then again, neither has he.
Looking more closely, he can see the sun making Crowley’s black scales shimmer in all the colours of the rainbow, how elegantly Crowley is wound around and in-between his plants without as much as touching them- knocking the one over had definitely been an outlier and due to the scare of Aziraphale showing up.
But why did that scare Crowley? He was so beautiful like this…
Aziraphale reaches out to caress Crowley’s side, not breaking the eye contact with the demon.
Crowley shrinks back again when he sees Aziraphale move. The angel freezes, hand still outstretched, looking at him with questioning eyes. No, he can’t mean to- does he really want to? While he…?
"May I touch you?" Aziraphale’s question answers Crowley’s concerns.
"Pleassssse"
The plea escapes Crowley's serpentine mouth before he can stop it, he doesn't even know where that came from, but suddenly he feels desperate for the angel's touch.
When Aziraphale’s hand brushes against Crowley’s scales for the first time, the serpent shudders.
Aziraphale gently pets his side for a while, the squats next to the windowsill so they are eyelevel and pets Crowley’s head, smiling at him.
“Are you quite alright, my dear? I mean- no visit from above or below, was there? No-one did this to you?”
“No-one but hher, sssix thhhousand yearsss ago” Crowley hisses, then noses at Aziraphale’s palm in what he hopes is a soothing way when he sees the angel’s eyes go wide.
“It’ss not ssso bad, angel. Usssually I can controlll it”
Aziraphale nods, still a little anxious, but clearly not repulsed by Crowley’s form itself as he settles himself on a quickly miracle chair next to the demon.
“Is there anything I can do to help you, get you more comfortable perhaps?” he asks.
Oh, Crowley thinks, he doesn’t deserve this angel in the least.