Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Armageddon had been averted, the world returned to normal and an angel and a demon escaped their executions.
Said supernatural beings had spent the entire Sunday afternoon, evening and night sitting in the Ritz Restaurant in London, drinking champagne and eating through several courses of expensive food (well, at least the angel was), chattering and laughing, celebrating their newfound freedom.

The sky was painted black when Crowley and Aziraphale finally decided to head to their respective homes. Neither of them noticed how much time had passed; not that they really cared. This was the first day of the rest of their lives and they intended to enjoy it to their fullest.

…Well, technically that day was already over, Crowley noticed with a glance at the expensive watch on his wrist. It was well past midnight by now and the restaurant had only miraculously stayed opened for the two of them.

As they walked along the streets of London in the direction that Crowley assumed was towards his car (he was 72% sure he had parked it around here somewhere…), the demon inhaled deeply, enjoying the cool air on his skin. Yesterday he was in a burning bookshop, then in a burning car on a burning highway and earlier today he took a hellfire shower. While fire and heat in general weren’t an issue for the cold-blooded serpent of Eden, right now he very much enjoyed the refreshing coolness of the night air. The slight sting and shudder it evoked on his skin reminded him that yes, he was still alive.
And so is Aziraphale, he thought and thanked whoever seemed fitting in that moment.

Relief and an odd, positive kind of shock washed over Crowley when the reality of their situation finally began to sink in. They were both alive and now, at long last, free. They could finally be around each other without restraint, without having to keep any kind of distance - neither physical nor emotional. That opened so many doors for them, so many possibilities that Crowley felt overwhelmed. What should they do next? It would be they now, right? They were finally officially on their own side, after all.

Crowley wondered if and how things would change between him and Aziraphale. The angel had been reserved and closed off as much as possible during the past 6000 years, his fear of Heaven finding out about them ‘fraternizing’ (Crowley cringed at the word and the memories connected to it) had been too petrifying.

Would he be more open now? Today Aziraphale seemed much more relaxed and at ease than usual. He had even pulled his chair closer to Crowley’s during their dinner; still reasonably far away so they both had enough space to eat comfortably, but close enough that Crowley’s heart sped up and he jumped a little every time he turned his head towards the angel, the unusual closeness catching him off guard.

There had been a moment when Aziraphale leaned in particularly close and rested his hand on the table close, so close to his. It had been tempting for Crowley to move and rest his own hand on top of the angel’s.
But as tempting as it had been, he fought off the urge with every fibre of his corporation. The memories from 1967 and the dreadful line of ‘You go too fast for me’ echoed in his head, twisting his heart in the pain of rejection, even now, 52 years later.

How pathetic is that?

Now, as they were roaming the streets, Crowley’s legs seemingly carried him on their own, the demon was so utterly lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even register Aziraphale softly calling out to him.

The cogs in his head were spinning, the train of thought still running full steam ahead as he was silently debating whether Aziraphale’s closeness from earlier had been subconscious or if it may have been an intentional approach. What would he do if it had been intentional? Fucking panic and run, were his first instinctive thoughts but he shooed them away. No, he wanted to be with Aziraphale.

But what if he had just been imagining things, interpreted everything the wrong way? Would he be able to handle another rejection? Maybe things should just stay the way they were. Maybe the possibility of change was too scary to act upon.

Crowley not so vaguely sauntered downwards into a spiral of anxiety, one that his expression seemed to mirror because soon enough a warm hand rested on his upper arm and brought him back to the present.
Blinking a few times behind his sunglasses, his eyes finally found Aziraphale’s; greyish- blue full of concern, accompanied by a slight frown on his forehead.

“My dear, are you quite alright? You seem rather distressed”, Aziraphale asked softly.

“Mn”, was all Crowley could stammer out. Being so suddenly brought back to reality and the hand on his shoulder ended up short circuiting his brain. He swallowed thickly when he realized how close they were, close enough that he could feel the angel’s warmth radiating off of him. Or was that Crowley’s own corporation overheating? Was that normal? Was he about to pass out?

The silence between them slowly grew tense and Crowley realized he had to say something. He looked around and took in his surroundings for a moment. A sigh escaped his lips as he figured he had to tell Aziraphale the truth sooner or later, so he finally confessed:

“Angel I… I can’t remember where I parked my car.”

He really couldn’t, to his utter shame. In all the years of taking care of his precious Bentley, this has never happened before.
To be fair, he didn’t even know where they were in this very moment. He figured the street should have seemed familiar but in the darkness it could have been any generic one in London. How long had he been zoned out? He was both amazed and terrified at the fact that he walked all this distance without actually realizing any of it. Anxiously biting the inside of his cheek, Crowley resisted the urge to slap himself.

“But Crowley…”, Aziraphale began. “You didn’t come here with your car.”

What-

Oh .

Scratch slapping himself, hurling himself off a cliff it is.

They had still been pretending to be the other when they met earlier today and Crowley-as-Aziraphale had walked the distance from the entrance to Heaven and Hell to the park.

Aziraphale was painfully observant of Crowley in this very moment and the worry the angel had over his companion was clear on his face. But he was gracious enough to not press onto the matter any further; at least not at this very moment. It has been a long day for the both of them and this conversation was best to be had another day.

“Come on, dear boy, let’s get ourselves home. We’re not far”, the angel said in a soothing voice and comforting smile. Crowley stumbled a bit when Aziraphale’s hand moved from his arm to his back to guide him towards the direction they needed to go to.

Noticing the reaction, Aziraphale quickly withdrew his hand and Crowley had to keep in a whine, the spot on his back where it had rested now felt agonizingly cold.

When had he become so goddamn needy? 6000 years of being touch-starved had finally caught up to him, it seemed.

They walked together in silence for a while. Crowley’s mind was spinning again and he had trouble keeping the anxious thoughts at bay. At least this time he was aware of his surroundings.

“Crowley… Are you alright?” Aziraphale’s voice broke the silence as he repeated the question he had asked not even 10 minutes ago. “You seem awfully distant ever since we left the Ritz.”

“Nah, ‘s fine, angel. Just tired. It’s been a few long days. And y’know, stopping time sucked up most of my energy, so…”

When Crowley stopped time at Tadfield airbase, he used up an immense amount of his powers to stop everything, including bloody Satan himself. Not to mention that before that, he had used a lot of his power to hold the flaming Bentley together. The whole day had left him thoroughly exhausted and the trip to Heaven afterwards hadn’t exactly helped either. In all those millennia spent on Earth, he had never felt this tired, this spent, so it was no surprise that he fell asleep the second he and Aziraphale sat down in the bus back to London. (He vaguely remembered a warm hand engulfing his own during the entirety of ride but he wasn’t sure if this had been a dream or not.)

It all had taken a toll on Crowley and while exhaustion was still pretty heavy in his bones, he had recovered sufficiently enough to pretend he was okay. (Something he was quite the expert in). But now that mask began to crumble and he was too tired to try and keep it up. (He wondered if the cold had anything to do with it. Bloody reptilian traits.)

The angel stayed silent for a while and inspected Crowley’s face.
“My dear”, Aziraphale finally began, “I want you to know that you can always talk to me. If that is what you want, anyway.”

A blush dared spreading on Crowley’s face and he rubbed his neck, averting his head to look at the shop displays they passed.
“Nn… yeah. Thanks angel. ‘M fine now, by the way. Walking and talking helps. Circulation and all.” Which was true, his mind did seem to clear up when he had the angel’s soft voice to focus on. (Or latch on, rather. Pathetic.)

He hoped that Aziraphale would leave this subject be for now; he would need some time alone later to gather his thoughts before he dared voicing any of them to the angel.

Aziraphale seemed to pick up on this and offered to start some more lighthearted conversation instead.
“W-well. I’m glad the Bentley is back and okay. I left it in front of your flat, you shan't miss it”, the angel hummed and fumbled nervously with his hands. “I’m glad my bookshop is alright as well”, he continued, sighing in relief. The bookshop had been the angel's safe place for so long now, the thought of having lost it was visibly painful for him. “And you said Adam had taken the liberty of gifting me a few new books? Even dusted the whole place?”

“And thank Satan for that. Some of those dust layers were still from your opening day”, Crowley teased.

“Ah, well”, Aziraphale shrugged his shoulders playfully. “I admit, it got a little heavy in some places but I do like the aesthetics.”

“Aesthetics. Right. It has nothing to do with you scaring off allergic customers then, I take it?”, Crowley said with a devilish smirk.

Aziraphale sputtered in half-hearted offense. “I would never! I believe such mischief would be more up your alley, fiend.”

They both laughed and fell into comfortable silence. The tension had fallen from both of their shoulders and for the first time in his life, Crowley was grateful for small talk. Bloody small talk.

They rounded another corner.

“Adam really restored everything… Even people who have died came back, it seems.’” Aziraphale sounded almost proud. Like he had raised they boy himself, like they hadn't accidentally raised the wrong kid for years.

“Like that delivery dude”, Crowley commented.

“Yes. But there was no trace of Ligur in your flat. Do you think he’s actually gone for good?” When they had returned to Crowley's flat, the puddle of holy water was still on the floor but Ligur's remains had vanished. Aziraphale had taken care of the holy water while Crowley searched every room for the other demon, but he found nothing.

“No idea”, Crowley shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets. “You said the other demons still thought he was dead. So if he did come back, he must have skedaddled. I don’t think he’ll give us any trouble either way.”

“I suppose… And…“, Aziraphale hesitated. “And what about your friend?”

That made Crowley turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Aziraphale avoided looking at him, eyes focused on his hands instead.
Crowley frowned. “My wot?”

He trailed off when he noticed they were standing in front of the book shop.

“Oh. Here we are”, Aziraphale chuckled awkwardly. It seemed as though there was more he wanted to say but decided against it with a shake of his head.

“Get some rest, dear. Oh…”, his face suddenly turned to one of shock. “Oh, we should have gone to your flat first! I’m so sorry, I was out of my mind myself and- Your flat is much closer anyway- I must have I lead us here out of habit-“

“Angel, chill. ’s no biggie. Not like I’m the one to talk right now”, Crowley interrupted his rambling with a lazy wave of his hand.

Aziraphale’s expression relaxed a little. “Will you be alright on your own? …Would you like to-“
“Yeah, don’t worry”, Crowley quickly interrupted him before he could finish the question. He had a very good idea what the angel was going to offer to him and couldn’t help but think that inviting him inside had been the angel’s plan all along. Any other day Crowley would have accepted in a heartbeat. But tonight he needed time for himself, lest he did something stupid.

“‘m feeling much better, I’ll be okay. I drove on a burning M25, I think I can handle a short walk down that not-burning street”, Crowley tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as he dramatically waved his head towards the direction he needed to go to. “It’ll be good for me.”

Aziraphale sighed softly.
“If you say so. Can I… Can I call you later today then? To make sure you’re alright?” He sucked in a sharp breath before he continued, “And I, well… I was hoping we could meet up again soon.”

Crowley’s breath hitched at that and he quickly cleared his throat in a poor attempt to cover it up. “Yeah, sure. Do that, angel.”

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

Aziraphale seemed to ponder over something and a small twitch of his hand made Crowley think he’d reach out to him. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the angel turned to him with an awkward smile on his lips.

“Good night, my dear”, was all he said as he turned around and headed for his door. Crowley waited for him to go inside, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

Aziraphale’s strange behavior today had left him entirely confused he didn’t know if this shift was good or bad. Before he could fall into yet another spiral of anxiety he was brought back to reality when he heard the bell of Aziraphale’s front door ringing.

Crowley turned on his heel when he decided to steal one last glance at Aziraphale. He looked over his shoulder only to see that the angel had had the same idea. Aziraphale was in the process of closing the door but his gaze was on Crowley. Their eyes met and Aziraphale’s expression turned into one that reminded Crowley of a young Warlock when nanny Ashtoreth had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. 

But it quickly softened and Aziraphale resumed closing the door, all the while smiling at Crowley, a smile so bright that Crowley thought he’d need a second pair of sunglasses. His heart fluttered when he swore he saw a blush on Aziraphale’s cheecks and he couldn’t help but smile back.

The door finally shut and Crowley was rooted on the sidewalk for a few seconds before he finally remembered how to move his limbs and started heading for his own flat.

He had a feeling that things would indeed change between them. He’d just have to wait and see how.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Aziraphale called Crowley later that day and they decided to meet up. Same for the next day, the one after that and soon enough months had gone by with them meeting several times each week.

They were simple meetings (definitely not dates), with them enjoying walks in parks, expensive lunches and later on even more expensive alcohol at Aziraphale’s bookshop. Perhaps these weren’t the most exciting or interesting activities two immortal beings on Earth could do but hey.
Having a slice of cake and a cup of espresso felt so much better when you didn’t have to worry about your bosses seeing you together with the supposed enemy.

Still, as the weeks went on, Crowley, as much as he enjoyed their time together, was starting to feel like maybe they should shake things up a little.

Heck, they were free now and still mostly stuck to the same routines of the cautious outings they’ve had since the beginning. There was so much Crowley wanted to do and so many places he wanted to see- with Aziraphale, of course. The angel seemed comfortable enough around him that Crowley figured he could have them try something new. Nothing too fancy or adventurous, they should start off slow; he didn’t want to go too fast again-

Oh.

Crowley just had the perfect idea.

It was around 11am on a Sunday when Crowley was pacing his flat, scrambling to find a few items he knew he had seen lying on his excessive desk just a few minutes ago. He jumped a little when his mobile rang, the custom ring tone revealing that it was the angel calling. Crowley hurried to fish the device out of his pocket but then waited a few seconds before picking up.
No need to appear too desperate.

“Zira, ‘sup”, he finally answered the call and pat himself on the back for convincingly sounding very much nonchalant about the angel’s call.
Smooth, Crowley. Smooth.

“Hello my dear”, Aziraphale sounded as happy as ever. “I was wondering whether you’d like to meet up for lunch at this new lovely Italian restaurant down the street later today?”

“Sorry, angel, I have other plans.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale sounded disappointed. “I see, I shan’t disturb you then. Another time, perhaps?”

Way to word this, Crowley, the demon groaned internally. This conversation already turned out to be much more complicated that it had to be. (To be fair, most of their conversations did. One would think they’d have gotten the hang of it after 6000 years.)

“Ngk, no, angel, I meant I have other plans for us.”

“For us? ”, Aziraphale repeated.

“Yeah. If that’s alright with you…”, Crowley rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, well, I certainly am free!” Aziraphale’s mood had been lifted once more. “What did you have in mind then?”

Crowley smugly grinned into his phone before he remembered that Aziraphale couldn’t see him. “Sorry angel, but that’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? Well, count me curious. What are you scheming, vile demon?”, Aziraphale’s smile could be heard through the speaker.

“Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it? It’s nothing wild, I promise. Unless you dislike surprises, then maybe I should tell you...", Crowley quickly added.

Aziraphale liked routines and predictabilty, it hit Crowley just now that maybe he should have planned this with him. He thought back to the day Aziraphale opened his bookshop, he had come by as a surprise with a box of chocolates he knew the angel liked so much, only to find Gabriel and Sandalphon standing in the shop. He had put Aziraphle in quite the predicament without meaning to and although the chocolate had been much appreciated afterwards, the angel's hand had visibly shaken as it plopped a piece into his mouth.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I, I trust you, Crowley", Aziraphale stated with a fondness in his voice that caused Crowley to almost drop his phone. Those words, they meant everything to him. They have known each other for so long and Azirphale always kept his distance, kept most of his feelings hidden deep down within him, locked away for no one to find. But ever since Amrmageddon, things have changed and Aziraphale allowed himself to open up more around Crowley. He did so slowly, in his own pace and it was a wonderful thing to witness for the demon. Now, Aziraphale was dangling the keys to that lock in front of Crowley's face but Crowley refused to take them, not unless the angel explicity allowed him to.

"Sh-should I pick you up at 1pm?” It wasn't what Crowley actally wanted to say to the angel but it would have to do. If he voiced is actual thoughts now, he knew he would end up saying too much, too fast.

“Yes, that sounds wonderful. I’ll see you later, dear.”

“‘kay.”

At 1pm sharp the Bentley came to a halt in front of the bookshop. Aziraphale had already been standing there, hands folded in front of his stomach and a bright smile on his face.

Crowley got out of his seat and walked over to the passenger’s side, holding the door open for the angel. Aziraphale seemed positively smitten by the gesture and Crowley preened when he noticed the light blush on the angel‘s cheeks.

Maybe he wasn’t just imagining things after all. Just maybe.

He got back into his seat and they drove off. Aziraphale knew better than to ask the demon where he was taking him, so instead, he talked about today’s confrontation with a customer who had dared asking to buy a first edition of Hamlet which was signed by none other than William Shakespeare himself with the words ‘Buck up!’ scrawled next to Aziraphale’s name.

(Crowley silently wondered why Aziraphale even kept such valuables out in the open in his bookshop for everyone to see. Perhaps he should change the shop's label to a book museum, seeing as he never wanted anyone to actually touch, let alone buy his precious books.)

After a while they came to a halt nearby Richmond Park and Crowley once again got out of his seat to open the door for Aziraphale.

“Mind telling me what your secret plan for us is that you drive us all the way out here?”, the angel finally asked.

“Remember in 1967 when we said we’d go on a picnic but never actually went?”, Crowley spoke as he moved to the trunk.

Aziraphale lit up like a Christmas tree, eyes glowing and growing just a bit wet.
“Oh, my, Crowley”, could his voice get any more tender? “Of course I remember! I-I don’t know what to say, this is such a lovely-“

“Yeah, we’re not doing that”, the demon cut him off and opened the trunk, rummaging around in it.

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s face fell.

“Naah, I’m messing with you, we’re totally doing this”, the demon said with a cheeky grin as he finally pulled out a picnic basket from the trunk.

“You fiendish creature!”, Aziraphale pouted and playfully swatted his shoulder in mock offense. Crowley laughed at his adorable attempt to come across as angry and tried to hide his giddiness over the angel being comfortable enough to casually touch him.

“Sorry angel but I can’t let you think I’ve grown soft.”

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble but you’ve always been soft, deep down.” Aziraphale straightened his coat and side-glanced at Crowley, adding: “I’ve always adored that about you.”

Crowley.exe had stopped working and the angel took off towards Richmond Parks’ entrance as if he didn’t know full well what he had just done.

Aziraphale stopped once a few meters of distance were between them and turned back with a smile.
“Well, come on then, chop chop”, the angel started. “I’ve waited over 50 years for this, better not waste any more time!”

Crowley almost dropped the basket but quickly caught himself and somehow managed to move his long legs without getting them tangled up.

The sun shone warmly above them with barely any clouds in the sky and Crowley thanked whoever that for once, the weather predictions had been accurate.

He and Aziraphale were seated on a blanket somewhere near the Isabella plantation. Crowley had brought all kinds of pastries, a cheese platter, tea and a bottle of red wine for them. (Well, it was mostly for Aziraphale; Crowley was content enough watching the angel eat… He wouldn‘t pass up on that wine, however.)

“Crowley, this is simply divine”, Aziraphale sighed as he took a bite from the éclair in his hand. “You really thought of everything. Is there a special occasion for all of…”, he gestured around with his hand, “…this?”

“What, can’t I spoil you every once in a while without being accused of having an ulterior motive?”

“So much for ‘can’t let you think I’ve grown soft’”, said Aziraphale with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’ll feed that éclair to the ducks if you don’t behave, angel”, Crowley warned but they both knew it was an empty threat.  “I just thought”, Crowley hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess, now that we’re free, we could, you know… Go and do all kinds of things we’ve always wanted to do but couldn’t. S’pose this was one of ‘em.”

“That’s a lovely idea.” A soft smile was on Aziraphale’s lips and he placed a warm hand over Crowley’s on the blanket. “We should absolutely do that. What other things have you always wanted to do?”

“I, uh…” All words left the demon as his gaze was fixed on their hands. Noticing what he interpreted as discomfort, Aziraphale withdrew his hand with a hint of rejection in his eyes. This was the second time that the angel withdrew his hand thanks to Crowley not knowing how to process that kind of gentle touch.

Crowley cleared his throat.
“There’s so much I wanna do, angel. I can’t really… sort them properly in my head? It’s all so much, I get guess I get a little overwhelmed. They’re all floating around there somewhere, though”, he knocked on his skull. “Maybe I should’ve written them down... But there’s a bunch I’d wanna do. Together. If you want.”

Oh Satan, he was rambling-

“I’d like that very much.” Aziraphale’s voice was so full of fondness that Crowley wanted to sob. “And not to worry, my dear; there’s no rushing things, we literally have all the time in the world. We’ll just let each other know when we come up with something, yes? Then we can write them down on that list so we won’t forget.”

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the day was filled with light conversations, which consisted mostly of Aziraphale recounting more tales from his bookshop. Crowley contently laid back on the blanket and listened, watching the angel through his sunglasses. His smooth voice had lulled him into a state of relaxation he hadn’t felt in decades.

Aziraphale seemed thoroughly happy himself and Crowley couldn’t help but preen at the fact that his plan to spoil the angel had unfolded so perfectly.

It was 5pm when it had gotten dark and cold out that they both finally decided to call it a day.

The Bentley pulled up in front of the book shop when Aziraphale spoke up again, so quietly that Crowley initially didn’t register it over the purr of the engine.
“Say, dear. Would you like to come inside for a bit? I found a fairly old bottle of Scotch in the back of the shop and, well, I know how much you enjoy-“

“Yes”, Crowley blurted into Aziraphale’s rambling. “I, yeah. Sure. Why not, got nowhere else to be. Plants won’t need another yelling at until tomorrow.”

“Wonderful!”, Aziraphale quipped and clapped his hands together when Crowley turned off the engine with shaky hands and followed the angel on equally shaky legs.

He had a feeling that with this invitation, Aziraphale was the one with an ulterior motive.

Chapter Text

An hour later and an angel and a demon were in the bookshop, leisurely drinking from the bottle of Scotch. Before Armageddon’t, they would sit separately, one of them occupying the couch, the other the armchair. But for the past months, Aziraphale and Crowley had both sat on the couch, as it was also the case today. (Though in Crowley’s case, ‘sprawled all over’ would have been a more accurate description).

The gramophone was quietly playing classical music in the background while they had picked up the conversation from the park again and were talking about things they wanted to do now that they were retired.

“Aurora borealis”, Aziraphale said after he swallowed a bite of oat cake. “I’ve only been up north a few times and never had the chance to see it. I’d love to, someday.”
“You know, the polar lights were my idea”, Crowley said, trying to act nonchalant and plopped down on his back, head lying on the arm rest. His right leg was bent up and placed on the couch, the tip of his snakeskin boot only barely touching Aziraphale’s upper thigh, dangerously close to his buttock (surprisingly enough, the angel didn’t seem to mind the shoe on his furniture), as the other was planted on the ground, wobbling anxiously.
“Oh, yes, I am well aware of that, my dear”, came Aziraphale’s reply and something playful, almost flirty (please let it be flirty) sparkled in his eyes when they met Crowley’s. The demon had cast away his sunglasses and he was sure Aziraphale saw how his words made the sclera of his eyes expand until they were fully serpentine.

“What’s something else you’d like to do?”, Aziraphale questioned as he nibbled on the delicacy in his hand again, acting as if he didn't know what he just did. Perhaps he really didn't.
“Hmm…”, Crowley thought aloud. “Visit Rome again. I do miss the wine. You could have oysters.”
“I wish Petronius’ restaurant was still around…”, Aziraphale lamented with a sigh.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, angel. I’ll find you the best oysters in Italy.”
“Oh, would you, my dear?”
“‘Course”, Crowley croaked out and ran a hand through his hair, acting as if he wasn’t going into cardiac arrest any minute now. He hoped Aziraphale would blame the demon‘s reddened cheeks on the alcohol. “You’re up again.”

Aziraphale leaned his head back against the couch and hummed in thought. He spoke up after a moment of silence.
“I’d like to dance again. I‘m afraid I haven’t done so since the gavotte died out.”
“Right, I keep forgetting you’re literally the only angel that dances”, Crowley says with a snort. “Well, that one should be easier to arrange than going to Rome, I s’pose.”
“I agree”, Aziraphale said and rose from the couch. He swayed just a little due to the alcohol in his bloodstream but quickly caught himself and stretched his back with a satisfying plop. Crowley used the shift to sit up and take another generous sip of his Scotch.

Aziraphale turned to him with an outstretched hand. “Will you indulge me, my dear?”

The scotch shot through Crowley’s nosetrils and he coughed violently, his entire head turning red. 

“I uh-“, Crowley stammered once his pipes were somewhat free of the liquid again. “I didn’t mean right now, you know.”

Aziraphale chuckled at the demon's antics. “Why not?”
“Well I-“ Yes, why not? Because things suddenly getting very real, very fast. It seemed more and more like Aziraphale actually returned his affection and Crowley was panicking. That ugly voice of doubt was still screaming in his mind, You’re reading it all wrong. You're going to get hurt again.

“Disco’s more of my thing, angel. I’m not- I’m not good with the slow stuff”, Crowley finally said. (The demon had always preferred faster things; faster music, faster dances, faster cars- You go too fast for me. Oh.)

Aziraphale withdrew his hand. He smiled with just a hint of rejection in his eyes. “Of course. That’s quite alright my dear, I almost figured as much. I really only wanted to sway a little. But I understand.”
Aziraphale turned away and although he tried his best to hide it, Crowley caught a short glimpse of a downward tug of the angel’s lips.
“Allow me to fetch some more oat cakes, I won’t be a moment”, he said and made his way to the small kitchenette upstairs.

I just messed it up again, didn’t I? Why do I keep chickening out? I ruined the mood. He looks hurt and now he’s leaving the room…. It’s fine, he’s just getting more oat cakes. It's not an excuse to get away from me, right?

The serpent‘s mind was running wild, like one of those youtube videos in which hamsters ran too fast in their little wheels, causing centrifugal forces to take over and send them flying.

Why, why can‘t you just shut up for one second?, he pleaded with his brain. Let me enjoy something, just once, without screaming at me how wrong it will go.

Aziraphale had now reached the stairs but before he started his ascent, his hand lingered on the railing, halting his movements. Grey-blue eyes flickered to golden ones, just for a second, so quickly that Crowley would have missed it had he blinked. But it was enough.

Fuck.

Crowley got up and approached Aziraphale, swift like a snake, taking his hand and pulling him back towards the couch. The angel let out a surprised ‘Oh my!‘ but was quick to squeeze the demon’s hand in return. 
Crowley moved the furniture aside with a snap of his fingers. His head was spinning and he was certain that it was not due to the alcohol.

“You’re lucky I have enough Scotch in me for this", Crowley hissed and tried to convince himself that Aziraphale wouldn’t notice the violent blush on his cheeks.
“Crowley, really, you don’t have to do this just to please me. If you don’t want-“
“I’m not that opposed to it angel”, Crowley snapped defensively and cringed at how much harsher than intended it had come out. “Sssorry”, he muttered and his eyes finally met Aziraphale’s, if only for a second before he nervously looked away again. “‘S just… I dunno… Scary?”

It was a vague statement but with the way Aziraphale’s eyes softened, Crowley was sure that he understood what he was trying to say.
“I know. I’m scared, too’’, the angel whispered. “Which is why I won’t be mad if you say no. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re not ready for.”
“Wait wait wait wait wait”, Crowley shook his head in confusion. “Why are you scared? You offered!”
“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive, are they?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Things are changing, Crowley. And change is scary, even when it’s good. But after facing the end of the world, Satan and our own executions, I think that I am brave enough to face whatever is coming next, too. As long as you’re with me, that is.”
Crowley just stared at the angel with his mouth hanging open like a bloody idiot.

The way Crowley saw it, Aziraphale had always been the braver one of the two. Crowley had wanted to give up when Satan was approaching but it was Aziraphale who continued to stand his ground and kicked Crowley’s arse to literally and figuratively get back up on his feet. Who knows what would have happened if the angel had given up, too.
Crowley felt stupid. He’d been longing for Aziraphale since the Beginning and now that he was finally free to properly express it and that Aziraphale actually seemed to reciprocate these feelings, he kept shying away. He had faced the literal end of the world just a few months ago and now he was too scared to do something as simple as dance with the being he loved more than anything else.

'As long as you’re with me, that is.'

“I've always been with you, Aziraphale. Ever since the first rain", Crowley whispered.
Aziraphale‘s breath hitched and before Crowley lost his courage, he tightened his hand around the angel's, bringing them both up. His other hand went to rest on the softness of Aziraphale’s waist. It was warm, everything about Aziraphale was warm and when Aziraphale smiled at him and rested his other hand on Crowley’s shoulder, the touch starved demon wanted to break down and cry.

With shaking legs he began to move, just a little. The gramophone was playing slow classical music and Aziraphale stayed true to his words, having them only sway on the spot in rhythm.
Once his nerves had calmed down a little, Crowley got a bit more daring and moved his feet faster, taking a few small steps to turn the both of them.
“Sorry!”, Crowley shrieked when he stepped on the angel’s foot.
“It’s quite alright-“
“Sssorry!”, he exclaimed after stepping on him again.
“No worries-“
Crowley cursed when he stepped on his foot a third time and halted his movements with a frustrated huff, letting go off the angel and turning his back to him. He ran his hands across his face in frustration before letting them fall to his side again with a groan. The sway was going fine until Crowley-
“I went too fast. Again. ‘m sorry, angel.”

He regretted the words the second they left his mouth and he didn’t dare to turn around and see Aziraphale’s reaction. Why did he have to bring this up of all things? He prayed Aziraphale didn’t catch the meaning behind it. He almost jumped out of his skin when a warm, plump hand wrapped itself around his own slim one. Aziraphale was about to draw back again but this time, Crowley tightened his grip, having him stay in place. 

“There’s no need for apologies, dear“, Aziraphale began slowly. “You’re not the first person to step on their dancing partner’s feet and I promise you that you won’t be the last. And….” A pause. “You‘re not too fast. You’re doing just fine.”
Crowley looked back at the angel over his shoulder, who in turn smiled and brushed his thumb over the demon‘s knuckles.

They wordlessly resumed their positions and resorted back to the more simple sway and Crowley tried his best to not pass out while the angel’s eyes seemed to be searching for something in Crowley’s serpentine ones. Whatever it was, he seemed to have found it when his smile grew impossibly tender and he moved in closer, moving the hand that was resting on Crowley’s shoulder to his chest, gripping his shirt gently. 

Crowley gulped thickly; his heart had been beating furiously ever since he dragged Aziraphale to their improvised dance floor. With Aziraphale’s hand now resting atop it, there was no way he couldn’t feel its rapid beating. If he hadn’t known how Crowley felt before, he definitely knew now. 
The expression on the angel’s face changed as his smile faded and was replaced with a look of wonder. Crowley didn’t have time to process that look as his mind came to a screeching halt when Aziraphale started to lean in even closer. Crowley help his breath, thinking he was about to kiss him.
But he didn't; instead, the angel rested his head underneath Crowley’s chin, nuzzling his nose into his neck and breathing in the cologne on his pulse point. He chuckled slightly at Crowley’s pulse speeding up impossibly more at that, the warm breath tickling the demon’s skin in a way that made the hair on his neck stand up.

“Crowley, do you mind if we sobered up?" Aziraphale asked against his neck. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about and I would prefer it if there was no alcohol involved."

Oh shit. With Aziraphale saying something like that, Crowley would rather have a few more drinks to calm his nerves. But this seemed important to Aziraphale, so of course the demon complied. 

"Sure."

They stopped their swaying but stayed in position as they drove the alcohol out of their corporations. Crowley still felt dizzy but that was more due to the angel's body pressed against his own.
"There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you”, Aziraphale spoke softly. 
“Whassat?”, Crowley sighed, his brain working only partially as he nestled his chin against the soft white curls below him, breathing in the angel’s scent.
“That night after our executions; everything seemed alright until we left the Ritz. You were so quiet and your mind had been somewhere else entirely. I initially thought you were just tired but… There was more to it, wasn’t there?”
Crowley greedily inhaled more of Aziraphale’s scent before answering.
“Yeah… sorry ‘bout that. There was a lot on my mind that night and I wasn’t really ready to talk about it.”

“I understand. We went through a lot that day, especially you. Which brings me to my point… I intended to ask this sooner but I never knew if it was the right time-“ He paused for a moment. Crowley hummed encouragingly against the angel’s head. “Crowley, are you okay?”
“Huh? Angel, I thought we were past that-“
“No, yes, no, I-”, Aziraphale’s hand on Crowley’s chest fisted the demon’s grey shirt harder. “After I was discorporated, I came back to Earth without a vessel. And I found you- I couldn’t see anything, I could only hear your voice and you, you sounded so broken.” Aziraphale took in a deep breath. “You said you had lost your best friend. I thought that was what had been eating you up that night. But then you never mentioned it again, acted as if nothing was wrong. And I was thinking, maybe this is all my fault. I’ve been selfishly keeping you around to myself, barely granting you any time to properly grieve. Or maybe your friend had come back as well after Adam restored the world and I kept you from seeing them-”
His rambling got interrupted by Crowley’s thundering laughter. The demon couldn’t recall the last time he had laughed this hard.

They broke apart, Crowley wiped away some tears while Aziraphale frowned and huffed. “I was just worried about you, there’s really no need to be laughing at me.”
“I’m sorry, sorry”, Crowley caught himself again. He figured now was the best time to tell Aziraphale the truth. “Back then, I was talking about you, angel.”

Aziraphale’s expression was doing parkour, switching from surprise to fondness, to confusion. “I don’t understand- You’ve never lost me. Was it because of what happened at the bandstand?”
“No, no”, Crowley cleared his throat and awkwardly tried to hold the angel’s gaze. “I mean, yeah that fucking sucked but you did call me again a little while later. It was then that I figured we’d be okay again. We always have been, in the end.”
Crowley’s eyes fell to Aziraphale’s bowtie and he moved his hand to play with it. “I had been dealing with Hastur when you called, remember? I drove over to your place once he had been taken care of.”
“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale’s eyes were focused on something behind Crowley. His nose scrunched up a little. “That was when you took Agnes Nutters’ book from my shop. After it had burnt down.” The thought of his beloved bookshop in flames still upset the angel.
“No, angel. Your shop was still very much on fire when I arrived.”

Silence filled the room.

“…What?” Aziraphale asked so quietly that Crowley almost hadn’t heard him. Their eyes met for a second but Crowley quickly switched his focus back to the bow tie. He felt the grey-blue eyes on him and he couldn’t handle it, so he leaned forward and rested his cheek against Aziraphale’s head again, wrapping his arms around the angel’s neck. Aziraphale didn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around Crowley’s middle.
“I thought you were still inside, so I went in. But I couldn’t find you, couldn’t smell you. I’ve never not smelled you in 6000 years, Aziraphale. All I could smell was fire and ash and I thought-“, Crowley’s voice broke off. He had never talked about the whole thing to anybody. He had pushed the memories aside but they resurfaced in his dreams whenever he slept, causing him to wake up drenched in sweat. Finally saying it out loud felt simultaneously crushing and liberating.

Crowley could feel the realization dawn over Aziraphale by the way the angel's body tensed around him. It seemed that all this time, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Crowley had been inside the bookshop while it had still been burning. But he had, he had gone in to find Aziraphale but found nothing but destruction. 
He had never told Aziraphale the full extent of his side of the events and now everything seemed to be falling into place. Why Crowley had been a drunk, crying mess when Aziraphale's corporation-less self met him. It was because he thought Aziraphale was-

“You thought I had been destroyed”, Aziraphale finally concluded.
Crowley didn’t reply but he figured the warm tears that fell from his cheeks and landed on Aziraphale's shoulder told him enough.

“Oh, Crowley…”, was all Aziraphale could say and he hugged the demon even tighter, moving one of his hands to rest against the back of his head, combing his fingers through the demon's copper tresses.

None of them knew how much time had passed until Crowley pulled back and rested his hands on Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheeks, gently wiping away the remains of his tears. The slitted pupils amidst the rich golden sea of Crowley's eyes were blown wide, vulnerable.

“There we are”, the angel smiled warmly at him, his own eyes having grown wet at the state of the man-shaped being before him.
"You came looking for me", Aziraphale continued. "After I treated you so horribly, dismissed you again and again. After you said you'd leave without me."
"I never intended to leave without you, angel. How could I?"
Aziraphale's gaze softened. "Why didn't you leave once you thought I was gone? Why didn't you run when you knew the world was about to end?"
"With you gone, my world had already ended. There wasn't really anywhere left for me to go."

That might have been the sappiest thing Crowley had ever said to anyone. But it was exactly what he had felt all those months ago. Without Aziraphale, Crowley had tried to find another reason to keep on fighting, but he couldn't. Nothing made sense when Aziraphale wasn't around - It was as though the angel had taken all the light and warmth of the world with him, so Crowley had given up and accepted his fate. He had gone to the nearest pub and decided to drown his grief in alcohol, to numb the pain and be too piss drunk to actually witness the planet's and his own demise.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale stared at him, speechless. A single tear escaped his eye as he opened and closed his mouth several times.
"I don't know what to say, where to begin...", the angel finally croaked out and the sound break Crowley's heart. "Crowley, I... I am so sorry. For everything. I meant none of those horrible things I've said. I wish I had told you how I really felt all this time."
"'s alright. I get it. I always knew you were scared of upstairs but when I was in Heaven disguised as you..." Crowley shook his head in anger. "I never realized just how bad it's been for you. The way they treated you still makes my blood boil."
"Yes, well... I appreciate that but it still doesn't change the fact that I've hurt you. And, although this may be a tad selfish...", Aziraphale looked to the ground and Crowley wasn't sure if it was due to shame, nervousness or both. "During Armageddon, there had been several instances when I thought it was all over. When Satan was approaching and the night before our executions... I kept thinking 'this is it, old boy' and that I should use these final moments to finally come clean. But I never did. The matter of the fact is that if we had indeed died back then and I never had gotten to tell you how I actually felt... I would have regretted it more than anything else in my life."

Couldn't Crowley relate to that? He had felt the same way during Armageddon, probably the most when he was inside the burning bookshop. The realization that he had missed what he thought had been his final chance to let Aziraphale know how he felt had hit him hard. He had loathed himself back then, loathed himself for not telling the angel sooner, for not arriving at the bookshop just 10 minutes earlier so he could have prevented the fire altogether. 
And even after all of that, he still didn't have the guts to tell Aziraphale when Satan was approaching. He was such a coward that instead of just saying it, had opted for stopping all of time to such an extent that he technically shouldn't have been able to pull off.

(He still wondered just how he was able to also freeze bloody Satan. He had never before been able to pull off something of that scale and he more than once wondered if there had been some... outside help.)

Crowley chuckled. He couldn't help himself, he was dumbfounded over this whole situation. How did they end up like this? They have said so much and yet so little over the past 6000 years. He turned his head to place a kiss on Aziraphale's palm, feeling the angel's heart beat faster beneath his own hands on his chest.
"I love you, Aziraphale", he finally said, quiet enough that only Aziraphale could hear him. "I've been in love with you for so long, it's actually fucking embarrassing."
"I love you, too, dear", Aziraphale confessed with a brush of his thumb over the demon's cheek. "And I am sorry it took me so long to realize and even longer to accept that."
"Don't be", Crowley sighed contently. 

None of them dared to move or say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. They just relished in the feeling of closeness to each other, both physically and emotionally. But the moment was cut short when the record ended and the music that had accompanied their dance came to an end. It was only then that Crowley remembered where they were, when the realization of what just happened actually hit him. He grew flustered all of a sudden, because of course he would, and he slowly pulled away with a nervous chuckle.
"Ah... Sorry, we never really... y'know... Properly danced", Crowey mumbled and scratched the back of his head like a bloody anime character. 
"That's quite alright, my dear", Aziraphale replied and straightened his vest. "I believe this has been rather lovely."
"Ngkyeah."

'Ngkyeah'. What a thoughtful, eloquent reply, Crowley. Cheers.

They were still standing in the middle of the cleared room and Crowley didn't know what to do with himself. He started fidgeting, trying to find something clever to say or something to do, but his brain wouldn't compute. He was truly lost when he couldn't even use sarcasm to deflect his feelings. Why was he still so awkward?

Aziraphale, being the saint that he was, noticed Crowley's nervousness and decided to spare him and take matters into his own hands. The furniture returned to its original position with a snap of his fingers and he took Crowley's hand into his, gently pulling him back towards the couch with him. 
"You seem rather tired, my dear. How about we sit down and get comfortable? You can take a nap while I read, if you'd like." 
"Yeah, sounds good", Crowley agreed and, as if on cue, yawned. Now that the tension was dissipating, fatigue started to settle in his brain and bones. That, and Crowley always found himself to tire after crying. (Not that he ever cried.)

Aziraphale sat down on the couch and pulled Crowley into his lap, the demon immediately melting into his softness and nestling his head underneath the angel's. Aziraphale wrapped his left arm tightly around Crowley, his right one holding a book that he picked up from the table. 
"Actually", Crowley started as he moved his arms to encircle Aziraphale's middle. "Would you mind reading to me? I like your voice. It's soothing." 
"Of course, my love", Aziraphale smiled and pressed a long, warm kiss to the top of Crowley's head, turning the demon into putty in his arms. 

Crowley closed his eyes and felt himself slowly drift off to Aziraphale's voice. The cloudlike softness underneath him and the gentle, close yet distant voice reminded him of a time when he was still an angel, of a time when he still felt his mother's presence and warmth around him.
But unlike with Her, Crowley knew that Aziraphale would never let him fall, that he loved him and embraced his flaws.

When Crowley finally fell asleep, it was the best sleep the serpent of Eden has had in his entire existence.