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    Summary

    9. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

    Crowley had been harboring a word deep in his chest since Eden, biting it back every time it rose unbidden to his tongue. He had been finding other ways to say it for millennia, but had never felt free to name it out loud. He was sure sometimes that Aziraphale felt the same. He thought he had seen the word on the angel’s lips more than once, had seen him biting it back just as Crowley did. Surely they could say it now. 

    “Angel,” Crowley started, seized by a mad desire to speak the words out loud. 

    “Yes, dear?”

    Crowley choked up. Part of him hadn’t been expecting to be acknowledged. “Oh, uh, I was just wondering…”

    He was suddenly horrified by what he had been wondering. What had he been thinking? He couldn’t come out and just say something like that after six thousand years of not saying it! Was he crazy? Aziraphale might discorporate from shock, or worse, reject him. He had thought he knew Aziraphale’s mind, but suddenly his head was too filled with echoes of Friends? Were not friends!, I don’t even like you!, There is no ‘our side’, It’s over!, and You go too fast for me, Crowley, to be entirely sure. 

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