Chapter Text
Aziraphale and Crowley walk side by side through Berkeley Square, having just had the most wonderful meal at the Ritz. Aziraphale felt lighter than he had felt in a long while, having freed himself from heaven and all its expectations. He wasn’t thinking about the future, what may or may not happen to him now he’d…defected. He hadn’t fallen, necessarily. He didn’t know if there was even a word for what had happened.
The day had been simply… wonderful. Crowley, the fallen angel… the demon (now retired), had barely left his side all day, and had been the one to suggest dinner at the Ritz, followed by an evening stroll. Aziraphale, with all his barriers of defence slowly unravelling, had happily agreed.
They had talked, and laughed, and drank a few glasses of wine. The meal at the Ritz had been exquisite, as both Crowley and Aziraphale had been infinitely more relaxed around each other than they ever had.
At the end of the square they approached Crowleys Bentley, which gleamed in the low evening sunset, not a scratch in sight. No sign of having been very much on fire just over 24 hours ago.
“Fancy a lift home?” Crowley offered.
“Oh, well… perhaps a walk might be more preferable? I’m not really that far from here, really.” Aziraphale had said, not really wanting to step in the Bentley quite so soon.
“I’ll walk you home, then.” Crowley insisted.
Aziraphale gladly took him up on the offer, and so they strolled down the street, taking in the evening glow. It had indeed been a wonderful evening. They walked slowly as they approached the bookshop, reluctant for the evening to end.
When they reached the door of the bookshop, Aziraphale paused, “Well, this is me.” He said, as if Crowley didn’t know.
Crowley spoke after a pause, “I’ll be off then?”
A moment passed between them, both not moving from the spot outside Aziraphale’s bookshop. Crowley was eyeing him intensely, as if Aziraphale was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
Aziraphale blinked, unsure why things felt so intense between them suddenly, expectation, or apprehension hanging in the air like an un-spoken question. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley wanted what he wanted, they’d just saved the world together and yet this was suddenly the scary part.
Aziraphale didn’t want Crowley to leave quite so soon, the thought of being alone tonight, after everything that had happened, made his heart sink a little, but Crowley seemed ready to leave… so he had no choice. That’s what he had come to accept over all those years… he couldn’t always stop Crowley leaving.
“Okay… goodnight then.” Aziraphale said, not moving from his spot.
Their routines from before had become so engrained, and it was difficult to shift to what may well be a new future for them… after all, they were technically free now, which meant the future was theirs for the taking… if they wanted it. Maybe, Aziraphale didn’t want them to go back to how things were before.
Aziraphale regarded him for a moment… Please Stay. He thought. Don’t leave me tonight.
Crowley bowed his head and began to turn away. Back to their usual routines, then. Back to their careful dance, two stars circling one another but never touching…
Something inside Aziraphale compelled him to reach out, taking Crowley by the cuff, pulling Crowley back.
“Wha-?” Crowley’s words were cut short, quickly realising what Aziraphale was doing.
Before Aziraphale could give himself time to think, or time to talk himself out of it, he pulled Crowley close and did the very thing he had longed to do for millennia.
Standing on his tiptoes, Aziraphale’s lips quickly found their way to meet the fallen angel’s. Crowley made a shocked noise, swallowed back in his throat, but quickly caught on and then returned the kiss with equal passion, bending ever so slightly into the kiss.
It was rushed, and a little ill timed, but oh, kissing Crowley felt like heaven.
The moment passed as quickly as it had started, and the two found themselves standing, dumfounded, breathing heavily. Crowley was watching him, looking equally shaken and was he blushing?
Aziraphale was trembling, but quickly regained his posture. He swallowed, “You’re… you’re welcome to come in… fancy a cup of tea? Coffee?”
Crowley was dazed, and simply nodded, following the angel inside the bookshop, and then up the stairs to the flat above.
Aziraphale fumbled around in the kitchen and returned after a few minutes with perfectly brewed earl grey for himself and builders tea for Crowley (it was a little late in the day for coffee).
Crowley had been completely silent since the kiss, which set off alarm bells for Aziraphale as he realised he may well have made Crowley incredibly uncomfortable, ruining their friendship forever.
They both sipped their tea quietly on the sofa. Aziraphale began to panic, wondering if his one moment of weakness ruined everything? He was not used to expressing himself quite so… physically. He’d always tried to be reserved, fitting in very well with the British stereotype (there was a reason he’d settled in this part of the world, after all).
He turned to Crowley, catching a glimpse of his expression which was yet again, unreadable.
“Oh, I do hope we’ve not ruined our friendship, Crowley.”
Crowley raised his eyebrows, noticeable over his dark sunglasses, he looked at Aziraphale for a minute before eventually saying “Friendship? Really? Have we not been dating for 1000s of years already?”
“D… dating?” Aziraphale said incredulously, almost choking on his tea.
“Yes, dating!” Crowley said insistently, “What do you call this evening? Was that not a date?”
Aziraphale stared, aghast.
“I mean, we’ve never called it that. We couldn’t, not before… all that business with the antichrist.” Crowley continued. He removed his sunglasses, the look in his orange-yellow eyes was sincere, “Surely, Angel, you knew I had… uh… feelings for you.”
Aziraphale melted, as he always did when he saw Crowley’s eyes. Would it not be hypocritical for him to deny his feelings now… especially now heaven and hell were no longer breathing down their necks?
He remembered what he had said all those years ago. You go too fast for me Crowley. How he had wanted then to just run away with Crowley, start a life together, away from everything. It had been impossible, then, but now… with everything having changed so much…
“Crowley, I…” he swallowed, struggling with his feelings, for so long he had hidden them away as best he could. Never acting on his feelings towards the fallen angel. They had known each other since the Beginning. They had a history, always finding each other no matter what. Crowley had saved Aziraphale many a time - not only from dis-corporation, but from loneliness… from himself. And after all of that, they had faced off the worst of Heaven and Hell together.
His feelings towards Crowley were ineffable. But he couldn’t say it out loud, not quite yet.
“… me too.” Crowley said, the words that were unsaid hung in the air around them.
Aziraphale looked down and found his fingers were intertwined with Crowley’s. He wondered how that had happened, but it didn’t matter who had reached out first – neither of them were letting go.
“Oh.” Aziraphale sighed. The penny finally dropping.
Crowley reached forwards and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek, feeling the Angel’s soft stubble. The warm evening sun flooded the room, making it look as if the two ethereal beings were glowing. Aziraphale gazed into the intense, curious eyes he had always adored, twinkling as they caught the sun.
His heart hammered heavily in his chest, and in an instant their lips found each other once more. Crowley breathed heavily into the kiss, his hands now running through Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, wanting him, needing him close, feeling Crowley completely melt into his arms. They both completely lost their composure, trembling hands wandering as they continued to taste each other – all sweet and milky from the tea.
After a while, their lips pulled apart, and Crowley curled up and rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest, just needing a moment to regain his breath.
Aziraphale breathed out shakily, stroking his hand through Crowley’s hair. It felt so good to be close, to feel the weight of another. He would happily stay like this forever. After a moment, Aziraphale steadied his breath as much as he could, “Stay the night?”
Crowley spluttered, the very same look on his face as when Aziraphale had told him he’d given the sword away, “And you say I move too fast.”
After a moment, they took themselves to the bedroom. With a quick miracle, they were both clad in pyjamas. Aziraphale in a pastel, two-piece tartan affair. Crowley in black silky shorts. They eyed one another’s choices for a moment, and then climbed into bed, where they fell once more into each-other’s arms, gently kissing until they eventually fell asleep, exhausted.