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The firelight from the flame flickering warmly in the fireplace tinged the backs of Crowley’s eyelids with a orangey-red color, but he had no intention of opening them any time soon.
“Will you tell it to me again?”
He felt Aziraphale shift from underneath his head. “Dear, you’ve heard it so many times already.”
“I know.” Crowley grinned, still keeping his eyes closed. “But it helps me sleep.”
He felt Aziraphale’s stomach rumble with a low chuckle, a seismic event for his head, the side of which had been resting on the angel’s abdomen. “Oh, alright.”
Crowley let his wide grin dissolve to a simple contented smile, settling his head down into Aziraphale’s lap. His neck was hung over Aziraphale’s thigh, which was infinitely more comfortable than he would have guessed.
Aziraphale cleared his throat, a soft sound that filled Crowley with comfort. “I honestly don’t know why you insist on hearing this story. You were there.”
“Mmf. Better when you tell it, though. Plus, you’ve got a better storytelling voice. And I forget a lot of it.” Crowley opened his eyes for a brief moment, just to see Aziraphale’s face when he said, “Your perspective’s more interesting, anyway.”
Aziraphale’s expressions shifted through flattered, then flushed, before settling at an ever-regular fussy-yet-fond.
“Oh! Well, I don’t know about more interesting, but I’ve always considered it to be—”
Crowley cut him off, making shushing noises. “Just tell it, Angel.”
“Well.” Aziraphale cleared his throat once more. “It was cool. And it was about to rain. And I— I was rather, nervous, actually.”
With those words, Crowley was transported centuries back. In his mind’s eye, he was on the wall of Eden, rocks rough under first his scale-covered belly, and then his bare feet.
“And then you came up to me and said ‘that didn’t go so well.’”
Crowley opened one eye. “Mm. No I didn’t.”
“You roughly said ‘that didn’t go so well.’”
“Sssaid ‘that went down like a lead balloon,’” Crowley interjected, his ‘s’ lingering as it always did when he was feeling lazy. “I remember.” He paused, pensive. “Was proud of that line. I rehearsed it, y’know. B’fore… going up.”
“Do you want to tell the story?” Aziraphale asked pointedly.
“No. I ssaid, s’better when you do it.”
“Then don’t interrupt.” Aziraphale sipped from his mug. “As I was saying, you said— er, ‘that went down like a lead balloon.’ And then… you don’t really want me to recite the conversation word for word, do you?”
“No.” Crowley turned onto his side. “Just say what you thought of me.”
“Ah, so this is why you like hearing me tell it.”
Crowley opened his eyes slightly, raising his eyebrows and pouting so as to appear innocent.
“Well. I thought you were— a demon, first of all.”
Crowley groaned in protest. “I was a demon. Has nothing to do with what you think.”
“I thought you were nothing but trouble.”
Crowley grinned. “Got that half right.”
“And I thought you were… eager.”
Crowley smirked. “Eager? For what?”
Aziraphale looked down on Crowley’s reclined form, smiling softly. “You were young. Much younger than you are now. And you were so full of questions. You wanted to know everything.”
“Mmmph.” Crowley did a dismissive lip trill. “Not everything. Just— important stuff. Stuff that didn’t make sense. Like Her plan.” He exhaled. “Ssstill haven’t really found that answer yet, either.”
“Well, dear, it’s because it’s ineffable.”
Sighing, Crowley replied. “You’ve been saying that for the past—” He started to count on his fingers, before realizing it was pretty pointless. “Point is, you’ve been saying it for a long time. I know, I know, it’s ineffable.” He let his voice go deep and thin on ‘ineffable’ to show Aziraphale just about how seriously he took it.
“The ineffable plan did save our lives, you realize, Crowley.”
Crowley opened his mouth to retort, but then sighed. “Just keep telling the story.”
“Ah. Yes. Well.” Aziraphale wiggled, settling back into the tale. “I told you that I had given my flaming sword away.”
At the reminder, Crowley gave a soft bark of laughter. “That’s right. I was… amazed, mostly.” He raised his eyebrows. “Takes real balls to go against the Almighty.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale admonished, though he looked slightly flattered. “I didn’t think it was the wrong thing at the time. And”—he perked up—“ you agreed with me! I remember.”
“That,” Crowley said very matter-of-factly, “was sarcasm. But I still think it was the right move. You were just trying your best.”
“I suppose.”
Aziraphale made no move to continue the story, seemingly lost in the past. Silence blanketed the two for a few sacred moments, until Crowley spoke.
“You know,” he started, testing the waters. “I don’t think I’ve told you this before. But that was the moment I… fell.”
Aziraphale startled out of his stupor. “You’d fallen long before that, dear. You said it yourself and all. Fallen in line with the wrong sort of crowd.”
Crowley swallowed. “No.” Why was it so hard to say? “That was the moment I fell. In love. With you.”
He held his breath. Why was he holding his breath? It wasn’t anything new. Nothing Aziraphale didn’t already know. Or nothing he hadn’t guessed, at any rate. Crowley was tempted to close his eyes, partly nervous at gauging Azirpahale’s reaction, partly wishing he could go back to earlier.
Aziraphale looked surprised for a second, then laughed softly. “Oh! I… didn’t know.” He paused. “Maybe that’s why you seemed so eager,” he added, then grinned.
“Aw, ssshut up.” Crowley raised his arm, looping it around Aziraphale’s neck. He paused. “When did you fall for me?”
Aziraphale considered the question.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “It wasn’t an exact moment. Just sort of… a culmination.”
“So like… rolling down a hill.”
Aziraphale laughed. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”
Crowley spread his hands wide. “Aziraphale: the Angel who did not so much fall in love as roll gently down into it as one would a hill.”
This elicited another chuckle from the angel in question. “It’s quite wordy for a title, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, suppose.” Crowley used his arm to nudge Aziraphale’s head down to his. Once it was close enough, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, light and fleeting. “But I think it suits you.”