Work Text:
“Hello, Angel.”
Aziraphale jumped in surprise, and dropped his keys.
“You really must stop doing that,” he said, closing the bookshop door behind him and taking off his coat.
“And miss the look on your face? I don’t think so.”
Crowley stood, and sauntered over to where Aziraphale was. He lazily picked up a nearby book and flipped through it.
“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than Aziraphale had meant, and upon seeing Crowley’s carefree facade flicker, he rephrased it.
“I mean, I lied to Gabriel just last week about our involvement. You can’t be here!”
A smirk crept over Crowley’s face. “‘Our involvement’? Oh, Angel, I love it when you talk dirty.”
Aziraphale made a tsk noise at the tease. “I’m serious, Crowley.”
“I know, I know. But really, how observant do you think Gabriel really is? I nearly walked in on the two of you having a chat that one time, and he was none the wiser!”
Crowley shut the book with a sigh, and dug around his pockets for a moment. “Besides, I’m only here because I brought you a gift.”
He pulls out two tickets to a showing of the new musical performance of Les Miserables.
Aziraphale’s eyes went wide and he took the tickets. “Oh, Crowley, you shouldn’t have!”
“Come on,” Crowley scoffed, though secretly quite enjoying the scene Aziraphale was making. “I know how much you like that Victor Hugo fellow.”
Aziraphale beamed at him, and for a moment Crowley couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to. He wanted the angel to always look at him that way.
“Oh, yes, I really do. Fantastic writer, he was,” Aziraphale said, “and he was an even better lay!”
—
The seats Crowley and Aziraphale had were rather nice, and the demon had to admit that for a musical, it wasn’t half bad.
In fact, he might even had said that he was enjoying himself. Only up until Éponine was walking home in the rain, however. She was Crowley’s favorite character (although he liked Gavroche too), and so when she started to sing, he sat straight up.
”On my own
Pretending he's beside me
All alone
I walk with him 'til morning”
Crowley couldn’t breathe again, but this time it wasn’t for a good reason.
”Without him
I feel his arms around me
And when I lose my way I close my eyes
And he has found me”
He felt so emotionally raw and exposed, as if he were the one on stage pouring his heart out.
”In the rain the pavement shines like silver
All the lights are misty in the river
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever”
Crowley glanced over at Aziraphale, whose eyes were watery and reflecting the stage lights. He is beautiful, Crowley allowed himself to think for a moment. Beautiful and out of reach.
Aziraphale must have felt his gaze, for he glanced at him briefly and gave a light pat on his knee. The contact was quick and casual, but Crowley felt it burn long after his hand was gone. He swallowed, and forced himself to look back on Éponine.
”And I know it's only in my mind
That I'm talking to myself and not to him
And although I know that he is blind
Still I say, there's a way for us”
It’s not like Crowley had kept his feelings unknowingly secret. He had let them slip out hundreds of years previous, but they had been quickly shot down. He needed to get over himself, nothing was going to ever happen between them. It had been long enough.
”I love him
But when the night is over
He is gone
The river's just a river
Without him
The world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers
I love him
But every day I'm learning
All my life
I've only been pretending
Without me
His world will go on turning
A world that's full of happiness
That I have never known
I love him
I love him
I love him
But only on my own”
Crowley was all too aware that a tear had fallen from his eyes, and he tried to casually wipe his face without alerting Aziraphale. He glanced at the angel once again, only to see him dabbing at the corners of his eyes with his handkerchief.
Why was he crying?
A flash of hope went through Crowley’s mind. Was it possible that he was having similar thoughts? What changed?
The stage went dark, and the odd pair applauded the actress along with the rest of the theater.
Crowley quickly composed himself, but he couldn’t push the thought completely away.
—
It was dark when Aziraphale and Crowley exited the theater. The musical had a rather depressing ending, but it was mostly lost to the demon who had been busy mentally re-evaluating everything.
The two of them didn’t say much as they waited for the valet service to retrieve Crowley’s Bentley. Once in the car, however, he broke the silence.
“Angel, why were you crying in there? After Éponine sang?”
Aziraphale gave a soft laugh. “Oh, I was hoping you hadn’t seen that. I just get so easily emotional, you know. How could anyone not? She was so in love with him, and he had not a single clue!”
He wiped his eyes again. “I wish Victor could have seen this. He would have hated it!”
He giggled to himself, and sighed deeply. “What did you think of it, my dear boy?”
Crowley tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and steadfastly looked ahead of him. He swallowed his feelings.
“It wasn’t bad at all.”