Chapter Text
It had been a hot and long day in Soho, the busy crowds only starting to fade away as the evening came, mostly bothered by the humidity that had built up over the course of the afternoon. The thinning masses seemed to relieve a certain angel, who finally had the opportunity to close his shop for now, grab a book and settle down with a nice glass of red wine. He had never really enjoyed running a business anyway, the bookshop known as 'A.Z. FELL AND Co.' only existing so that he had a place to store all of his books. He was an avid collector, after all. It hadn't been long before the angel had locked the door, closed the blinds and sat at his desk, a first edition copy of 'Biggles goes to Mars' in hand. It was one of the books that Adam had left in the shop after the armageddon that never was- he hadn't had time to read it yet, so he thought now was the perfect chance to skim at least the first few pages while he had the peace and quiet. This was where he was wrong. Yes, in theory this was the perfect time to read something. It was just the demon clicking his fingers and bursting through the door that threw a spanner in the works.
"Aziraphale?" He called, sounding a bit confused- he obviously couldn't see the angel through the mass of literature. The blond man soon appeared from behind a wall of bookshelves to greet him, a tad baffled himself. It wasn't like the demon to randomly appear in the book shop after closing time, especially without warning.
"Crowley?" He replies, "What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I'm here to invite you to dinner." The redhead grins, his reptilian charm working its magic on the angel. "Especially since a table for two has miraculously become free at the Ritz."
"Oh- ah, has it?"
"Yes, it has." Crowley continues to smile, opening the shop door and starting to head outside. "Don't fret, angel. I'll be sat in the Bentley when you decide you want to come."
***
Much to Aziraphale's annoyance, Crowley was right. He was indeed sat in his black Bentley when the angel had decided to join him for dinner.
"Don't look so smug." The blond told the redhead, "I was hungry anyway."
"Sure." The demon hummed, getting out of the car so he could walk around it and open the passenger door for his friend. "Are you certain it wasn't my demonic charisma that convinced you?"
"I'm certain." Aziraphale replied stubbornly, not wanting Crowley to be right again. Unfortunately, he was. "Besides, what would I find charismatic about you? You're a demon and I'm an angel- we're supposed to be enemies. You can't and won't charm me."
"You say that, but I don't believe you." Crowley grins again, closing the door before getting in the other side of the vintage car. He starts the ignition, beginning the pair's journey to the Ritz.
"What is there not to believe about what I said?" Aziraphale inquires, making the demon sat beside him look away from the road, almost hitting a pedestrian.
"The fact that you're a bad liar." Is all he replies.
"I-" The blond was practically speechless, giving the black-adorned man time to make another remark on his behaviour.
"Also it's fairly obvious that you are at least a bit fond of me."
"I'm not fond of you at all!" Aziraphale attempts to argue, but he knows he has already lost this debate.
"Is that why you blush ever-so-slightly if I look at you just the right way? Or why you sneak glances at me when you think I'm not paying attention? Give it up angel, you've grown attached to me."
"Maybe I have, but that's all it is: an attachment." The angel says, still lying a bit, though it's pointless. Crowley will just see through him again.
"Sure." The demon smirks, that tone of disbelief in his words once more. "So you're saying that your attachment to me isn't romantic at all?"
"All we are is friends." Aziraphale confirms, hoping desperately for the redhead to stop talking.
"Aziraphale." Crowley says, looking at the angel with his piercing yellow eyes, the other man trying his hardest to avoid his gaze. "I said you were terrible at lying."
"I- uh, I..." The blue-eyed man turns a rose colour, flustered to the point where he can't form sentences anymore.
"Don't say anything- don't worry about saying anything." The demon tells the angel, "We'll discuss this later." He smiles softly at Aziraphale, who just nods. "All I want right now is a nice dinner date with you."
***
As Crowley had desired, dinner at the Ritz had turned out to be quite pleasant. Of course, Aziraphale was still struggling to form words, but this was partly due to him shoving food into his mouth every five seconds. The demon, on the other hand, decided he would rather indulge himself in alcohol, downing glass after glass of champagne, only occasionally pausing so that he could breathe. Overall, things were going well, even though other couples dining at the restaurant would sometimes look bizarrely at them, but this was normal. Normal for Aziraphale and Crowley, at least.
"So..." The blond started, watching as the redhead chugged another glass of champagne, his indulgence perhaps gone a trifle too far. "About earlier..." The demon looked at him, placing the glass down on the table; it was empty anyway, so it was no use to him now.
"What about earlier?" He asks, trying to reorganise his thoughts. Everything had been a bit frazzled by the copious amounts of champagne.
"I believe you described this as a 'dinner date'?" Aziraphale continued, smiling ever-so-slightly.
"And?"
"Well, I thought a 'dinner date' was something couples went on. Does that make us a couple?"
"Couples are normally a pair of people that are in love with each other. Does that mean you're in love with me, angel?" Crowley replied with a question of his own, smirking.
"You know the answer to that one..."
"So? I want to hear it from you."
"Then you'll be waiting a while."
"That's fine with me." The demon hummed, sitting back in his seat, relaxing a little. "I'll wait all you want."
***
It had been several hours before the pair emerged from the restaurant, giggling and giddy. They had found the Bentley parked askew halfway down the street, a parking ticket wedged in its windscreen wipers. Crowley laughed audibly, stumbling towards the vintage car as he said 'head office' would deal with it. Aziraphale, mildly drunk, concurred.
"You're far too intoxicated to drive." He had also told the demon, who seemed intent on ignoring him.
"It's fine." He tried to convince the angel, "I'll run over no more pedestrians than usual."
"You don't normally run over pedestrians."
"So everything'll be fine." Clearly confident, Crowley threw himself into the car, soon looking to the left to check that Aziraphale had also made the same feat. Luckily, he had- injuries caused by getting in the Bentley were a common occurance on drunken nights out. Relieved that the angel was okay, Crowley began to drive, leaving a trail of destruction wherever he went. The blond was struggling to pay attention as buildings and roads blurred past, his inebriated mind totally disconnected from the world around him. The only times he spoke were to stop the demon from hitting people or other cars, which turned out to be a frequent occurance.
"Pay attention!" Aziraphale shouted at Crowley, who'd just narrowly avoided crashing into a tree.
"I am paying attention!" The redhead argued, though his statement was clearly false.
"People who are paying attention don't almost collide with trees!"
"It's the tree's fault for choosing to grow there!"
"I don't think the tree decides where it grows..."
"Of course trees decide where they grow! They're malicious bastards, you know." The demon continued to quarrel, determined he was right.
"And what makes you think you're right?" The angel asked, sighing. Crowley was typically argumentative when sober; being drunk only worsened the problem.
"I'm always right."
"No you're not!"
"I am!"
"You're not! You're just arrogant and insufferable!"
"I'm not arrogant!"
"You are! I don't even know why I love you!" The angel shouted at the top of his lungs, the demon beside him taking a moment to process what he said.
"What did you say?" He asks just to make sure he heard the blue-eyed man correctly.
"I said 'I don't even know why I love'-" Aziraphale suddenly stopped repeating himself, also realising what he has said. "I didn't mean-" He tries to explain himself, but he's interrupted by Crowley.
"You did mean that, and you know it."
"I-"
"Don't try to make excuses, angel. There's no point."
***
The rest of the drive back to the bookshop is completely silent, any of the angel's attempts to speak hushed by the demon. Luckily, it isn't long before the duo arrive at their destination, Aziraphale getting out of the Bentley to escape Crowley and his inevitable line of questioning. He is stopped as he reaches the door though, the one person in the universe he doesn't want to talk to stood directly behind him.
"Not now, Crowley. I'm tired." He excuses himself.
"You're an ethereal being- you don't need to sleep. Of course you're not tired."
"Maybe you're right. It's just I don't want to discuss things right now."
"Then let me do all the talking." Crowley hums, gently putting his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders and turning him around. The blond is met with a gentle smile and a pair of hypnotic yellow eyes that seem to make him relax a little more. "I know you meant what you said." The redhead starts, the angel nodding in agreement. "And that's fine."
"Crowley I-" Aziraphale hesitates for a second, "I'm sorry I said nothing earlier. I didn't know how you'd handle things."
"It's fine, angel."
"Thank you for bringing me out to dinner." The blond smiles softly, "I owe you."
"You owe me nothing. I just did what dates do."
"Crowley-" before Aziraphale can finish his sentence, he's being wrapped in warm arms, held close in a comfy hug from his demon companion.
"I love you too." He says as the angel reciprocates the hug, making him feel equally as warm and comfy. Time could've stopped at that moment, leaving two immortal companions to spend the rest of their days like this, finally realising that they belonged together. And as Crowley lightly pecked Aziraphale's cheek, the blue-eyed angel said this:
"You feel like love." Because the demon did feel like love- but maybe he always had and the blond never noticed. To him, Crowley just felt like Crowley; the angel who vaguely sauntered downwards. Either way, he had the rest of eternity to get used to it.