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6,000 years is a very long time to a human. They would find immortality exciting when given the chance for the first 70 years or so, but as places and people they once knew come and go, it wouldn’t be as fun. They would become sad, lonely, and would probably not mind filling out the paperwork it would take to get out of it. For an angel on the other hand, who has been around since the dawn of time, they would find a way to keep themselves occupied. Aziraphale finds himself busy staying on Earth and making sure humans weren’t as tempted by any evil forces. Of course the angel does his job, for he does in fact enjoy the creatures, but he also enjoys watching the cultures and fads of humans change over time. In fact, the Earth as a whole is fascinating, from the great wide landscapes of a mountain range to a single flower in someone’s yard. Aziraphale has always appreciated the beautiful elements The All Mighty brought into their creation, but despite their clear distinction of Good and Evil, there was always something, or rather someone, Aziraphale was not so clear about.
Of course, he should be. This particular creature is a demon, the very same one that tempted Eve to eat the Forbidden Fruit in the garden all those years ago. Crowley is a demon, and all demons are obviously evil, and yet the angel has a hard time controlling his fondness for him. It started that 6,000 years ago, and the affection of it all slowly began to spiral into something...more. Aziraphale blames it entirely on the fact that angels are beings of love, but he also knows that there’s no explanation on why his heart flutters every time he manages to make Crowley laugh. Or when the demon actually takes his glasses off for once and they seem to shine despite the darkness in a room. Or when he lets the angel ride in his car, despite stating that he never lets anybody else even touch his car.
Although there aren’t enough reasons to excuse his odd behavior, above all else, it’s unreasonable. Even with the black and white facts that they are an angel and a demon, Aziraphale had a hard time suppressing everything. Besides, Crowley only stuck around for the benefit of their agreement. Help each other out when the other was in danger. And sure, Crowley sometimes stuck around, but Aziraphale simply assumed it was just to keep everything all nice and friendly. It wasn’t until 1940something that everything came crashing down. Literally. Firstly, Crowley walked on holy ground to come rescue him. That is extremely painful for a demon and most wouldn’t even consider it. Once the bomb fell, saving his long years of filling out paperwork for damaging his body, the angel thought that Crowley would call it a day and move on. He helped him out, nothing more. But, the demon saved his books. Aziraphale remembers it so clearly to this day. Because it secondly, is an act of utter kindness. Crowley didn’t have to exert his powers to save some silly books. Thirdly, although heaven calls them silly, Crowley knows how much they mean to Aziraphale. So he saved them. So while Crowley tried to walk away from the scene all suave like he usually does, the angel couldn’t move, his chest tight. Never in a thousand years would he even be able to see a glimpse of something like this. But there Crowley was, and with one act of kindness, Aziraphale spiraled even more.
He never brought it up—oh how could he?—but when Armageddon came, it certainly wasn’t the best time. But after the whole fiasco of saving the world, not getting killed by either angels or demons, and his bookstore restored, he soberly thought that maybe now he can say at least something. So here he is, after dining at The Ritz, both he and Crowley casually sitting on a park bench in Berkeley Square. Aziraphale smiles to himself as he hears the distant chirp of a mockingbird.
“So, Crowley,” he starts, “With the whole end of the world problem coming to- well, an end, I was hoping to ask you something.”
He watches as Crowley’s eyebrows lift and his hips shift slightly, but nothing more.
“Shoot, angel.”
It’s Aziraphale’s turn to become fidgety, only he doesn’t hide it as well with his hands fiddling in his lap and he can feel a rosy color coming to his cheeks.
“Well- it’s just- did you actually mean it? The offer of us just running away together? The two of us, living out eternity...in the stars?”
Crowley seems to pause before answering, “Well, we did say we’d watch out for each other. Plus, infinity could get boring easily. I wanted someone there to bug me every once in a while.”
Wanted. An interesting word choice.
“And now? After everything that’s happened, would you still choose to do that?”
Aziraphale is surprised at his own words, but he doesn’t have the option of taking it back when Crowley says, “You’ve lost me. Come again?”
He takes a deep breath, his leap of faith right in from of him.
“I’m trying to imply- or rather ask-if the feelings of wanting to be together is...mutual. Because for my part it is.”
Several painstaking moments pass and Aziraphale has never been more scared, it can only compare to maybe being faced with Satan himself, but even then it’s very close.
“Are you trying to confess your love for me?” Crowley crudley (although not intentionally) asks.
This causes Aziraphale to become a tad bit more exasperated. “Yes! I mean no? Oh I don’t know! I’m not good with all this sort of stuff-”
“You’re telling me?! I’m not the one who spends their time reading romance novels!”
The angel takes a moment to look at what’s really happening. Crowley is getting scared. His tone is rising and there’s sweat collecting at his palms.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale says, “I’m putting you in an uncomfortable situation-”
“Can we talk about this at your place? I just- I don’t want to be around so many people.”
He nods his head, and in a snap, Crowley has transported them to the back lounge area of his bookshop, sitting on the couch exactly how they were sitting on the park bench. Aziraphale shifts his eyes around the room. “Wait, I thought you would’ve wanted to take your Bently-”
“No time really; if I didn’t do this now I won’t do it ever,” Crowley says. He glances over at Aziraphale apologetically and with a little wave of his fingers, a mug of cocoa appears on the coffee table. And with that, the demon can’t seem to look at the angel for a long time.
And Aziraphale waits. He picks up the cocoa occasionally (he can’t help it, it really is a good cup of cocoa), he sometimes looks at Crowley, but otherwise he stares at his hands resting in his lap. What else can he do? Patients is a virtue and he will wait however long Crowley needs in order to respond the way he wants to. Aziraphale would wait months, years, even centuries for his answer. He’s already withheld 6,000 years, a little more can’t hurt.
“I’m not supposed to be able to love.”
The angel jumps a little at the sudden noise, but either Crowley didn’t notice or doesn’t care because he continues.
“I am a demon, through and through. I spoke too much, asked too many questions, didn’t follow blindly, so I was booted off the big ol’ cloud. I’m supposed to be evil, wicked, any adjective that’s bad really. But then you-you bastard- you just had to come along and change everything. I started to care. You’ve always managed to find a way to make things...nicer.”
There are so many hidden lines in between, but Aziraphale knows that’s how they’ve always seemed to talk anyways. Everything’s so coded, secret, afraid someone’s going to hear.
He places a hand on Crowley’s and the demon flinches at first, but shakily settles into it.
“You know, I’ve always thought you were rather nice. The way you still grieve for the humans that weren’t on the ark, or how your temptations aren’t extremely harmful; they’re all examples of how you probably aren’t the best demon, my dear. You and I aren’t truly heaven and hell, we’re on our own side. Just like you said.”
Then, Crowley whispers something that breaks Aziraphale’s heart into two.
“I just never thought I was something worthy of your love.”
One tear falls past Crowley’s glasses. Then two. Then the next thing Aziraphale sees is the demon sobbing to himself, shaking, trying to keep everything together, but it’s like the seams have ripped. And the angel freezes. Everything else is telling him to comfort the sobbing mess before him, but he’s never been allowed to do it. Is it ok? Is he allowed to now?
Hesitantly, so hesitantly, he moves his free arm to wrap it around the demons shoulders, and that makes him lean his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Snot and tears keep dripping and the angel doesn’t mind one bit as he rubs the others back.
“Would it be ok if I take off your glasses, dear? They don’t look so comfortable like that.” Which is true. They’re diagonal and currently being bent out of shape, but he knows the importance of the sunglasses. Crowley doesn’t say anything except slightly whine once Aziraphale removes his hand from his, but the angel slowly takes them off and sets them on the table. Once removed, his hand immediately goes back to holding Crowley’s.
“I’m just so afraid of what might happen," Crowley gasps, “I mean, what if we go further and the All Mighty decides you’re no longer an angel so you become a demon? What if they find out and they kill us for good?”
Already nose deep, Aziraphale isn’t so shy when he whispers, “I love you, Crowley. I’m not going to fall for loving all living things, but I believe what we have is worth dying for. We did technically do that a couple of weeks ago.”
The demon breaks a little more after that, but it doesn’t take him long to sober up and finally sit up. Looking Aziraphale in the eyes, he seems to be fighting for a moment with himself. Somethings at the tip of his tongue.
“You go too fast for me, angel.”
The angel knows what that means. ‘I just can’t say it yet.’ Which is ok. Aziraphale doesn’t need words to feel the kindness Crowley has for him. So instead, he squeezes the demon closer and holds him for a while, already appreciating the feeling of finally being free.