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There was very little indication for whenever it was going to happen. The most frustrating and frightening part about it was there was no trigger. It had nothing to do with Crowley’s mood or the weather or the phase of the moon or even if he had eaten something off. His skin would begin to tingle and before he knew it, his true form would begin to leak into his human form.
Crowley hated his true demonic form. He despised it. He found it disgusting and horrid. One thing was for sure, he’d never show it to anybody. He’d sometimes show tiny bits to people who deserved it but never for more than a few seconds. And from the moment he’d met him, he promised himself to never ever show it to Aziraphale.
But since the two had moved in together, controlling himself was getting harder and harder. The more he tried to suppress it, the more it wanted to push through. Before, he could go back to his flat and let it pass (an hour at least, a day or two at most) but now he couldn’t go anywhere without looking suspicious.
He’d push through it, he had to. He refused to let Aziraphale see...see just how monstrous he was.
Aziraphale had shown the demon his own true form and Crowley thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Hundreds of crystal blue eyes and spinning golden rings with a heart of fire and beautiful light as bright as the sun.
The angel was Crowley’s opposite in almost every way. He was beauty where Crowley was filth, light where Crowley was a dark void. If the angel ever saw the less than ideal parts of him...Crowley didn’t even want to think about it.
Instead, he chose to let the days occupy themselves. The times his true form had threatened to show itself had been when Aziraphale had been out or they had been in separate rooms. But Crowley dreaded the moment where it happened in front of the angel and he wasn’t able to stop it.
It was a fine autumn evening and the two of them were sitting in the bookshop sipping wine. It had been a few days since Crowley’s last incident and he let himself feel just a little optimistic, letting the angel’s cheerful laughter carry him away.
Then of course, it had to be ruined.
The tingle broke out over Crowley’s skin.
No. Please, not now.
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. “Are you feeling alright, dear boy?”
“Yeah. Yeah ‘m fine.” Crowley said as he stood from the couch. “Just need the loo.” He did his best to look casual as he walked up the stairs that led to the flat the two shared. As soon as he was out of an earshot and eyeshot, he dashed to the washroom and locked the door behind him. His eyes had gone fully reptilian, black patches were breaking out over his skin.
No no no.
He crouched to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest.
Don’t let it through. Push it back, push it back!
“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I said I was fine.” Crowley grunted, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Just...just go back downstairs.”
There was a pause before Aziraphale spoke again. “Don’t lie to me.”
Crowley’s heart nearly halted at the sternness of the angel’s tone. Was he really that bad at hiding things or had Aziraphale just known him for too long?
The demon looked up to the mirror, glancing at how his human form was rapidly disappearing. He scrunched his eyes tight, forcing a surge of power through him and pushing his human corporation back to the foreground. It was exhausting and it only barely worked. Normally, he’d wait it out but Aziraphale was on the other side of the door.
“Darling, please? I’m worried about you.” Aziraphale said gently.
“No! You shouldn’t have to see me like...Just please go away!” He begged. He could feel the change threatening to burst out from his skin.
“Crowley, nothing you show me could turn me away.” Aziraphale assured.
“You can’t promise that.” Crowley quavered.
“Can I at least try to keep my promise?” The angel asked gently, a soft pain in his voice. “How can you be sure I’ll turn away if you don’t let me see?”
Crowley was too terrified to say that he didn’t want to take that chance. He didn’t want to force Aziraphale to see what a horrible monster he was. The immediate afterthought was a very ugly truth...he didn’t trust Aziraphale to not run away.
Trust was not a thing demons were known for. Crowley had done his best to be the opposite and trust Aziraphale. So many times, he’d given Aziraphale the opportunity to walk away, trusting that he wouldn’t. He trusted him enough to let the angel walk into Hell itself to keep him safe. He’d even go so far as to say he trusted Aziraphale enough to put a bottle of Holy Water into the angel’s hands and turn his back. But this was something much deeper, something Crowley hated about himself. An unignorable reminder that he was a rejected, unholy monster, that he was only good enough to be a pawn of the prince of darkness. Every time he saw any trace of his true form, it was nothing but a reminder that he had no identity of his own. He was Satan’s demon, Satan’s plaything, Satan’s monstrous minion, the tempter of main, the reason sin and death were running rampant among humanity. He could never be just Crowley, plant keeper, vintage car enthusiast, Freddie Mercury fanboy. He would always only be Crowley the demon. And he couldn’t stand only being thought of that way.
He couldn’t stand Aziraphale only thinking of him as just “Crowley the demon”.
Dammit why was he crying?! Stop being so bloody fragile!
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked gently. Crowley didn’t answer. “Alright then.” For a moment, Crowley thought the angel was going to walk away, he couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed. But instead of a creak of floorboards gradually getting softer, there was only a brief creak and a soft thump, just on the other side of the door. “I’ll wait here until you’re ready. I won’t run. I promise.”
Crowley swallowed, feeling suddenly quite weak. With a silent snap of his fingers, the bathroom door swung open. The angel stood from the floor and slowly walked into the room, kneeling down in front of Crowley, gently cupping his cheek, which was dotted with black scales.
“Why don’t we get you to bed? I imagine it’s not very comfy on the bathroom floor.” He suggested.
Crowley silently nodded as the angel reached for him, pulling him into his strong arms. It was only a few steps to the bedroom but it seemed like a much longer walk down the hall to the overexerted demon. Instead of just setting him down, Aziraphale kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed himself, keeping the demon nestled in his arms.
Forcing himself to keep his true form within was taking a toll on Crowley, who was beginning to shake and the sweat was growing thicker.
Don’t let it through, don’t let him see!
A soft, slow hand stroked his hair and a tender kiss was laid against his forehead.
“Don’t fight it darling. You can let go.” The angel whispered. Crowley shook his head, closing his eyes again. “You can trust me, dear. Please let me see you.” it was barely audible and the angel’s lips lightly brushed against Crowley’s forehead as he spoke.
Crowley let out a heavy sigh, his resolve finally breaking.
His human skin melted away, revealing a wiry, lean black body underneath. A long face, dotted with shimmering black scales and five golden eyes nestled against Aziraphale’s neck, taking care not to let the gnarled horns on the top and side of his head hurt the angel. Clawed hands clung to the angel’s chest and shoulder. It was hard to keep Crowley on his lap as the demon’s body lengthened to practically the size of the Bentley, not including a very long and thick tail, which rolled off the bed and down onto the floor. One pair of feathery wings and one pair of leathery, bat-like wings, both black as a starless, sprouted from Crowley’s spine. Sobs emerged from a twisted and heavily fanged mouth as red tears streamed from all five of his eyes. An unearthly glow surrounded him as his broken halo framed his head, sending quivering shadows along the wall. His voice was low and gravely, monstrous, as loud sobs forced out of his throat and shook his body.
He was weak. He couldn’t hide this from Aziraphale. He was a monster, disgusting, disfigured-
“Beautiful.” Aziraphale whispered, kissing Crowley’s cheek. “So, so beautiful, my perfect darling.”
A garbled sound came from Crowley’s throat and a confused snort soon followed.
“I’m not lying, my dear.” Aziraphale assured, stroking Crowley’s head. “I’m being quite truthful.” He kissed him again. “You are so beautiful, my dear Crowley. Why would you hide this from me?”
Another garbled sound clawed from Crowley’s mouth, this time it sounded much more anguished.
“Hideous? A monster? Oh my love, who told you this?” Crowley made another sound, trying to sound reassuring, but was cut off, “Who made you feel this way?”
Crowley sighed and croaked out a very long string of garbled, inhuman sounds, more tears coming to his serpentine eyes as he prattled off his explanation. Aziraphale listened patiently the whole time. When Crowley had finished, Aziraphale gently nuzzled the top of his head.
“Oh darling. I’m quite sorry to disagree with you, but you are completely wrong.” He said sternly. Crowley opened his mouth but Azirphale cut him off once again. “No matter what form you take, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever set my eyes upon.” Crowley rumbled again, lowering his eyes. “And I will continue to think that until I am destroyed and scattered to oblivion. Even then, I will say you are the most beautiful being in my life.” This time he laid a gentle kiss on the corner of the large fanged mouth. “And I will reassure you that you are beautiful until you think it for yourself, and I will love you until then and after and beyond.” Crowley let out a very short, questioning corak. Aziraphale smiled and drew an “x” over his chest. “Cross my heart my sweet.” He snuggled him close, kissing his forehead again. “I love you so much, my beautiful darling.”