Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~*~

“Excuse me, can I borrow a pen?”

The voice was much closer to Aziraphale than he had been expecting, as though whoever was speaking had deliberately moved some seats closer just to pose their question, but surely they couldn’t be talking to Aziraphale, could they?

“Sorry, it’s just. They asked me to fill out these feedback sheets two hours ago and I still haven’t done it.”

Aziraphale kept his hands folded on the white cloth table before him, fingers curled over an uncapped sign pen that hadn’t been used in over half-an-hour. It seemed a little bit like bragging — assuming this person had indeed been addressing him, but he made no reply.

“Right. Sorry, I’ll just… go, then.”

This time he whirled around and locked eyes with a man a couple of seats away, a lazy grin spreading over his face as he looked at Aziraphale.

“Oh, no. My apologies.” Aziraphale stammered some more as he took in the man’s sharply-lined face, the high of his cheekbones, and the artfully styled coif of his copper hair. He subconsciously licked his lips. “I didn’t think that it was me you were talking to. Here.”

He leaned forward and dropped the pen on the empty seat between them. The man picked it up with long, elegant fingers, and held it up in thanks.

The next few seconds dragged on for Aziraphale. He sat still, wading through a sudden bout of confusion and an onslaught of vague memories. He couldn’t help risking another glance at the man to get a better look at him — tall, lanky, red hair and very sharp cheekbones… 

Aziraphale quickly turned back towards the stage, forcing his thoughts to dive back into the contents of the current presentation. 

The man spoke again a few seconds later. 

“This guy. Gabriel Archer,” he scoffed, and a funny feeling hooked in Aziraphale’s stomach at the sound of it. “He’s been at this for — what, ten minutes? Barely understand ‘im. Half his speech is just buzzwords.”

Very carefully, Aziraphale pressed his lips together and glanced down at his lap. “Is that so?”

“Mmm. Why is it these Americans think that just because they’re the keynote speaker they can paint these walls with spit and still make that count for a speech?”

Aziraphale nodded slowly, his gaze darting back to Gabriel who, indeed, had yet to finish speaking onstage. 

“An interesting observation,” Aziraphale said.

“You’re British too, right? Have to be.”

Aziraphale gave a close-lipped smile. “Indeed, I am. Or I have to be, as you so astutely noted.”

“Come on. Was just trying to make you laugh,” the man said, and it felt as though he had shifted closer again, but when Aziraphale glanced back at him, he was still in his own seat. “You’re a bit tough to crack, aren’t you?”

As cordially as he could, Aziraphale shot him a serious look and replied, “Gabriel Archer is my boss.”

Crowley did a rough double take towards the stage, his jaw hanging open, gaping and stammering endlessly. Right. This is fine. I can totally salvage this situation.

“Oh, that expression is most amusing,” said the angel that Crowley may or may not have been sneaking glances at since he’d entered the conference hall. “You need not be alarmed, though. I am not offended.”

“Yeah, great. Also would be great if you didn’t mention this again.”

“It’s hardly much of a secret, but alright.” He smiled softly, barely there, but it lingered for a bit as he dragged his bright gaze over Crowley’s face. “I’m sorry, it’s been bothering me, but… have we met before?”

There was probably a proper, more polite way to reply to that, but whatever it was had Crowley absolutely beat. He wildly shook his head, and dropped the pen back on the empty seat. “No, I don’t think so.” He stood up from his chair and walked briskly back to his team’s table which, in retrospect, he really shouldn’t have left in the first place.

*

Tough luck for Crowley, though, ‘cause they crossed paths again immediately in the dining hall.

Crowley really shouldn’t have been staring. He’d been taught it was rude to stare. But how could he resist? The angel stood a couple places before him on the line, a beautiful bright smile lighting up his entire face. The woman handing out their food was saying something, and Crowley had absolutely no hope of understanding what it was, but the expression on her face made it clear that she was probably just as enchanted by the burst of divinity in the room. 

Crowley heard his voice, but couldn’t understand what he was saying either. It was a nice voice, though. Warm.

And then he looked over his shoulder and spotted Crowley. Surprise marred his face for a moment before melting into a polite beam. “Hi.”

Crowley tried to quell the fluttering sensations in his stomach. Pull yourself together, you pathetic sod, he mentally chided himself, Fuck’s sake, this is hardly the first time a handsome man said hi to you.

He waved and nodded back. There we go. Cool. Slick. Safe.

On account of the fact that Crowley hardly ever ate anything, he left the serving table earlier than the others in line. He scanned the hall. Hastur, Beez, Dagon, and Ligur were all seated in one round table. There was still another vacant seat that would have well accommodated Crowley — were it not for the fact that Ligur currently had his grimy boot planted right on top of it, an elbow perched on his bent knee as he picked at his food with his other hand.

That was as clear of a signal as anything could be. Crowley went to look for an empty table. 

But what he wasn’t counting on was for the only unoccupied seats to be on a table already taken by one person. Just to solidify his rotten luck.

“Hi again,” Crowley said as he approached the angel, who had just begun to pick up his chopsticks with dainty, well-manicured fingers. “Is this seat taken?”

“It isn’t. Please, do sit down,” came his eager reply.

Crowley was careful to leave two empty seats between them as he placed his tray on the table and inspected the contents of his bento. Soft rice, some cutlets of meat, and a pickled egg salad served aside a generous heap of sliced cabbage. The ensemble of bright colours came together so nicely that Crowley almost felt bad about raking a mess right through it with his fork.

The angel spoke. “I do know you, don’t I? It’s been bothering me.”

“Dunno what you mean—”

“Good lord, Anthony? It must be you!”

“Dunno who that is, I—”

“Then why does your nameplate say ‘Anthony Crowley’?”

“It does?” Crowley glanced down at the card pinned to his chest, like a fucking genius. “Shit. Yeah, it does.”

“You might not remember me, I suppose. Aziraphale Fell. We went to the same school when we were kids. In Tadfield.”

So much for Crowley’s hopes of not getting recognised. He could only hope his ears weren’t flaming. “Right, yeah. It must’ve slipped my mind. Aziraphale, hi. I am so sorry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Aziraphale said, and god damn it why did he have to be so nice? Then, in a lowered breath he seemed to add “...not expecting someone like you to remember me…” but Crowley couldn’t quite catch it enough to properly acknowledge it.

“So, uh…” Crowley said, not wanting to foster an air of awkwardness now that he’d been caught. “How long has it been? You moved away for uni, right?”

“I did,” replied Aziraphale. “How funny that we should meet again here, of all places.”

Crowley had to agree. It had felt like his entire world had been turned over when he’d first spotted Aziraphale around here. 

“It’s Crowley now, by the way.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name. I go by Crowley, not Anthony.”

“I see. Well then, it’s lovely to run into you, Crowley.”

“Do you still live in London? That’s the last I heard about you, at least.”

“I do,” Aziraphale took careful and appreciative bites of his meal as he spoke. “I’ve been working for Seven Skies for around… oh, five years now, I think.”

“Wow. Good on you for job stability. Hell knows that’s hard to come by in this economy.”

Aziraphale gave him a disbelieving look. “How about you? You must be doing good as well if you’re here.”

Crowley shrugged. “I’m with Nine Circles,” he replied, then realised that piece of info was written on his nameplate, so Aziraphale probably knew that already. “I’m new, though. Just started six months ago. And I moved to London about a year ago.”

“Nine Circles.” Aziraphale grinned knowingly. “It would appear, then, that we are rivals.”

“Guess we are.”

“And I think that, by sharing this table with you, I am technically fraternising with the enemy.”

“Call it what you like. I’m just having lunch.”

The tip of Aziraphale’s pink tongue darted out briefly to lick his lips. Then, he gave a light chuckle and returned to his meal.

With all his luggage safely tucked into the compartment below, Aziraphale steeled himself to board the sparsely populated bus. Just as he had been expecting, Gabriel, Sandalphon, Uriel and Michael occupied the seats near the very back, each in their own rows, but still huddled enough together that they could talk with little trouble. They hardly looked up when Aziraphale entered the aisle.

He took one row of seating near the front of the bus, wedging himself beside the window as he brought out his novel and propped it open on his lap. Half of his day bag was filled with paperbacks, which he knew was probably far from the customary traveler’s instinct, but after five years of attending this same annual conference with the same set of coworkers, he’d known to come prepared by now.

Any minute now the bus doors should close up and they would be well on their way. Aziraphale tried to shake off the small trace of dread he felt at the idea of spending another awfully silent night in a hotel. Just a few more hours. He’d only need to suffer this a few more hours and then he’d be on his way back to the familiar comforts of his cosy little flat in Soho. He would finally be alone.

To his surprise, the bus doors didn’t close. Rather, they stayed open as another set of people boarded the bus. Aziraphale looked up from his book to spot a strange-looking group in dark, mismatched clothing. There were about four of them, and Aziraphale recognised them vaguely from the conference. They made a lot of noise as they boarded, so much that even Aziraphale’s coworkers shot them suspicious looks. They glared back.

A silent standoff ensued between them for the next few seconds.

The second group then moved on to occupy the rows of seating near the middle of the bus, thankfully not close enough to Aziraphale that he would be bothered by their noise. He returned to his book, and only looked up when yet another figure boarded the bus and stopped on the aisle near Aziraphale’s seat.

Aziraphale was arrested by the sight of Crowley’s back, his lean and definitively not unattractive body stretching way up as he reached into the overhead rack and pushed a couple of his bags in. He’d taken off his long black coat and sprawled it across the seat, and his dark red turtleneck hugged his torso in such a flattering way that it was difficult not to stare. A plush purple neck pillow hung just over his shoulders, and he moved in a smooth, languid motion that was just a little too mesmerising.

Aziraphale had debated briefly on whether he should say goodbye to Crowley during the closing ceremony, but ultimately decided against it. It had been a chance meeting, that was all, and the poor man had looked so shocked that Aziraphale had recognised him. He didn’t want to seem pushy.

He definitely was not expecting to find Crowley in the same bus as they were riding, though. Maybe he should try talking to him again? There was no harm in that after all.

While Crowley’s back was still turned, Aziraphale looked at the window and tried to catch his vague reflection, haphazardly patting his hair to try to smoothen the wild curls before sighing at how ridiculous he was being.

He plastered on a smile. “Crowley, I wasn’t expecting to see you…”

But Crowley didn’t turn to face him. In fact, he carried on securing his bags as though he hadn’t heard Aziraphale at all. 

A resounding hiss echoed through the bus as the doors finally closed shut, and Crowley slid into the seat across the aisle from Aziraphale.

“Oh… kay, then,” Aziraphale muttered awkwardly to himself and went back to his book.

“Aziraphale?” When he looked up, Crowley was staring at him, one long-fingered hand wrapped around a wireless earphone that had — presumably — been stuck in his ear until just now. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Aziraphale marked his book with a finger and smiled politely. “I could say the same to you. Our team didn’t really travel with anyone else on the way here.”

“Makes sense, though, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re both heading to the same place, leaving at the same time, so they just put us all in the same bus.”

“I suppose so.” Aziraphale gave him another smile and went back to his book.

The bus began to move, pulling out of the driveway and out into a wide road that seemed to stretch eternally.

“Was this your first time?”

He dropped his book again. “Sorry?”

“This conference, I mean. ‘Cause it was my first time.”

“No, actually,” Aziraphale replied. “They hold this conference every year, and I’ve been going for the past five years to represent Seven Skies.”

“Oh. Well, that’s pretty cool. So you’ve been here before?”

“Yes… Well, no. Not exactly here here. The conference is hosted in a different city each time.”

“But always in Japan?”

“Yes, so you can say I’ve been around. A little.” A round of raucous laughter interrupted him momentarily, making him jolt in his seat. A few rows behind it seemed the Nine Circles group had started some kind of game and were actively jeering. Aziraphale noticed Crowley wince at the sound of Hastur’s ear-piercing scream. He patted the empty seat beside him. “Would you like to move here?”

Crowley looked genuinely surprised. “Move over there?”

Aziraphale paled in embarrassment. “Sorry, you don’t have to. I just thought it’d make it easier to… Well, never mind.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I don’t mind.” Crowley picked up his coat and slid out of his seat, steadily crossing the aisle to drop right beside Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale, however, had greatly misjudged just how much this would put them into close proximity. All of a sudden, Crowley was right there, mere inches away, sharing his warmth. He folded his coat on his lap and grinned at Aziraphale — a handsome crooked smile that sent a stutter to his pulse. 

Aziraphale fiddled with his book and tried to look busy by wedging his bookmark into a random page. As nonchalantly as he could muster, he said, “Is this any better?”

“It’s much better,” said Crowley, leaning back and reclining his seat as he settled in. “How long is this gonna take, do you think?”

“A little over three hours, I should say.”

“Ah. That gives us plenty of time to catch up, then, old neighbour.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “We were hardly neighbours. You lived all the way on the other side of Tadfield.”

“Well, yeah, but that was back then. Back when we were kids, I mean. The world seemed really small back then, just one end of Tadfield all the way to the other. Look at us now, meeting in a whole other bloody continent. I’d say, relatively, that makes us old neighbours.”

Aziraphale had to smile a little at that. “You have a point, surprisingly.”

“I can be clever sometimes.” Crowley plucked out his other earphone from his ear and placed them inside his pocket. “So, why is it that we didn’t get to ride the same bus going here?”

“I’m not quite sure, but it might be because we didn’t arrive at the same time?” Aziraphale squinted against a ray of afternoon light streaming in from the window. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Crowley nestled into his neck pillow and sighed. “These past three days were exhausting. It’s a pain to move around, you know, when you can’t read any of the signs or know what anything even is.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You were sent to a small town in Fukushima, not beamed by a spaceship into another planet.”

“You say that, but after a while it got trippy. It’s like, one sign after another and it started to look less like a different language and more… like I’ve simply lost the ability to read.”

“Oh, hardly,” Aziraphale tried to counter, but his suppressed laughter only made him unconvincing. His cheeks were aching, and it felt as though he’d laughed more in the past two hours than he had in the entire week he’d been on this trip. “I understand it’s hard to acclimate one’s self to an environment where all the signs are written in different characters, but there are always friendly people willing to help if you ask.”

“I prefer to Google, but I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Crowley. “Right now I just can’t wait to get back to Tokyo and be able to read signs again. Or most of them, at least.”

“Ah, the plight of the typical white tourist who only speaks one language — a tragedy. How very unfortunate that English is already the lingua franca, and that you’ll always have the advantage over other monolingual individuals.”

“Pfft. Easy for you to say, Mr. I Make Old Japanese Ladies Swoon With My Fluent Japanese. ”

Aziraphale gaped. “I am not fluent in Japanese!”

“Saw what you did with that lady over lunch earlier. Or heard, rather.”

“I am very far from fluent. Seven Skies sends me here every year, I figured I could do with picking up some of the basics. She was just being nice.”

“Then you’re just like me! How dare you make fun of me for being a typical white tourist.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Aziraphale said. “My mother is Welsh, you see. I’ve always been bilingual.”

With a scandalised look, Crowley swiped his phone out of his jean pocket. “Well fuck that, then. I’m re-installing Duolingo.” 

Aziraphale snickered into his palm, and with his free hand he patted Crowley’s shoulder. “There, there.”

Crowley gave a charming grin. “So, any plans on what to do once you get to Tokyo? Me and my teammates have a couple of free days, so I’m probably gonna do a bit of sightseeing.”

“Not really. We’ll just be heading to the hotel.”

“Well, that kinda sucks. No free days for you guys?”

“Actually we got here last week. And yes, we did do a bit of sightseeing around Tokyo. The conference was our final stop.” Aziraphale held back the tinge of bitterness that swelled in his chest at the unpleasant memories of his ‘sightseeing’ trips with his coworkers. There was no use complaining about that. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. He was here for a job, not to make friends. 

“Oh, so you’re heading back…”

“Tomorrow,” said Aziraphale. “Our flight leaves from Narita first thing in the morning.”

Crowley looked almost crestfallen for a second. “That’s too bad.”

“How come?”

Crowley shrugged. “Just kinda feel a bit lost, you know? I mean, I have my teammates, but they don’t really… I don’t really fit in, I don’t think.”

“So sorry to hear that.” Aziraphale felt an ache in his chest. “I understand what you mean, though. Most of the time I also don’t think I fit in with my own crowd.” 

It was a bit of an understatement, truth be told. Aziraphale didn’t just not fit in, his coworkers actively made efforts to push him away. They excluded him from most of their plans, subtly made fun of his weight and his old-fashioned style of clothing, and reacted awkwardly to all of his attempts to initiate conversation. And on the occasions they were forced to work together, they outright ignored him — unless they needed him to do something for them, at least.

But he doubted charming and gorgeous Anthony Crowley would understand all that, so he kept his reply simple.

“M’sorry to hear that too,” Crowley said. “It would’ve been nice if you were staying for a bit longer, if I had someone fun like you to show me around.”

Aziraphale hadn’t been expecting the warm sentiment, and could not help noting that for one second, Crowley almost sounded just as lonely as he was.

“Yes,” Aziraphale replied, a little wistfully, “I would’ve loved that.”

Just like that, Aziraphale began to feel a hint of regret at what this trip could have been. If only they’d booked their tickets the same way the Nine Circles team had, with the free days after the conference instead of before. Aziraphale would have been saved most of the humiliation he’d suffered the past week. He wouldn’t have spent two nights silently crying into his pillow because of the evident rejection. The loneliness. The endless questioning of why can’t I be more like them? Why can’t I get them to like me? Is there something wrong with me? 

Instead, he would have spent his days touring with an old friend. With Crowley, who was kind and charming and funny and just altogether great company. And that wasn’t even to mention Aziraphale’s… long-hidden admiration of him. Though it had never blossomed into anything more than a childish fascination, a relic of feeling from back when they were teenagers, it still would have been nice to see if this reunion — as well as the chance to catch up on each other’s lives — might have allowed them to progress.  

As it was, though, he and Crowley had only been talking for a few hours, and he felt it would be too presumptuous to ask if they could exchange numbers and maybe meet each other in London sometime. Fate sure had some cruel ways of playing with them.

Crowley’s gaze drifted over to his lap and an apologetic look crossed his face. “Ah, sorry. Looks like I’m keeping you from your book. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head. “No, really, I don’t mind. Please don’t apologise. I enjoy talking to you very much.” He was surprised by how much he meant it too. Very rare was the man so captivating that he’d keep Aziraphale’s attention away from a good novel. And if he were being honest, Crowley was much more captivating than he would readily like to admit.

“Yeah?” Crowley’s cheeks reddened slightly. “I like talking to you, too, Aziraphale.”

Having suddenly lost his eloquence, Aziraphale couldn’t form any reply. It was embarrassing, but all he could do was stare. To his credit, Crowley was also staring back, just as silent, with a small smile playing on his lips which probably mirrored Aziraphale’s own expression. A crackle, a hint of a spark, filled tension in the air, and Aziraphale wondered if it was palpable only to him — because he was fast becoming horrendously attracted — or if Crowley could feel it too.

Gently, he cleared his throat, and ducked his face back into his book before Crowley could notice how flustered he’d suddenly become.

For the following idle hour and a half, Aziraphale immersed himself into the story. Now and then, though, he looked out of the window, watching the slivers of golden light spill over the shadowy mountains and miles of rice fields that bordered the horizon. Now and then he would feel Crowley shift in his seat, as though he too were eager to enjoy the scenery. Aziraphale felt a little bad that he had convinced Crowley to give up his first seat, which would also have placed him beside a window. Still, sometimes he could swear that Crowley’s eyes were on him rather than at the view.

And whether it was only wishful thinking or not, he had to admit that he liked the feeling of Crowley’s eyes on him.

Chapter Text

“Crowley?”

The first thing Crowley was able to register as he dragged himself back to consciousness was a warm hand softly shaking his shoulder. The next was how awfully dry and chapped his lips were, followed by the crick in his neck that told him he’d managed to doze off with his head on the neck pillow and, much to his inner mortification, had drooled all over it.

Oh, and his hands were numb and freezing.  

“Mrrrngffh?” He opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale’s fluffy white curls bathed in gold from the window behind him — a thoroughly arresting sight that he had no way of preparing for. 

Groaning, he plucked off his earphones and wiped his drool off with his sleeve — careful to turn away from Aziraphale as he did so. “Huh? Yeah, s’up? Did we arrive?”

“No, dear, we’re at the services.” Crowley looked around and saw a handful of others getting ready to disembark the bus. Aziraphale continued, “Maybe you’d like to use the restroom? I’m getting off as well.”

“Yeah, maybe not the restroom. Be good to stretch the legs, though.” Crowley reached with his arms up and took off his neck pillow. He then turned to Aziraphale, who was shrugging himself into a brown duffle coat that made him look like a toasty marshmallow. Crowley couldn’t help smiling. “Shall we?”

They got off the bus, which was currently parked in front of a small convenience store housed in a one-storey redstone building. To the right were some signs that indicated the direction of the toilets. 

Crowley followed a couple of steps behind Aziraphale, who was making a beeline towards the restroom. They came across an open hallway where a couple of doors were lined up, and straight ahead, resting on an extended brick wall of some sort, were a few vending machines with brightly flashing lights.

“Oh,” he heard Aziraphale pipe up. “I’ll probably get myself something warm.”

“That thing sells hot drinks?”

“Some of them do,” Aziraphale replied, nodding. “I’ll head to the toilet.”

“Right. I’ll wait out here.” Crowley shoved his freezing fingers into the pockets of his admittedly not very thick slimcut coat. A warm drink sounded like just the thing right now. He walked over to the machines and gave them a scrutinising look.

The drinks looked… alright, even though Crowley could identify about half of them. He had to depend mostly on the packaging. Some of them were simple, with dark brown tones and images of chocolate bars on the wrapping. Others were a bit less obvious, usually in green colours. 

There was one row of cans, though, that stood high and proud. On them, a huge block of letters was written in vertical print: ‘BLACK’, along with an image of a coffee bean right below. Now that was a calling Crowley would heed in any language. 

Crowley put his coins into the slot and pressed the button.

A burst of almost childish glee welled up in his chest as the machine rattled from the inside, metal clanging on metal before dropping into the compartment below. Crowley bent over, pushed back the plastic hood, and grabbed his drink.

— And released a vicious hiss as ice met his freezing fingers. He retracted his hand. 

“What the hell?” He made to get his drink again, and now that he knew what to expect, was able to roll the cold aluminium can onto his palm. 

“I see you’ve gotten yourself a drink,” Aziraphale’s voice, bright and happy, came from behind him.  

Crowley stepped aside to make way. “You might be disappointed, though. This one doesn’t seem to serve hot drinks.” 

“Hm?” Aziraphale only vaguely acknowledged him. A look of concentration was fixed on his face as he scanned the drinks — almost as if…

Oh, that’s right. Crowley almost smacked himself in the forehead. The bastard can read.

Instead of fishing out for coins, Aziraphale placed some sort of card on top of a reader next to the coin slot. He pressed a button for one of the chocolate drinks, and down it went into the compartment.

Aziraphale bent down, wrapped both hands around a bottle, and sighed happily. “Ah, this feels splendid.”

Crowley could only stare at him, gaping. “That’s — you got a… oh, yeah. Yeah, good for you.”

A faint burst of steam shot into the air when Aziraphale twisted the cap open. He took a short sip. “Sorry, did you get a cool one by mistake? Would you like me to help—”

“What? Pshh, no.” Crowley waved him off, and hooked his barely cooperative icicle of an index finger into the pull tab of his drink, gritting his teeth as he tipped his head back and let the liquid pour into his throat. He made a good show of sighing as well, though it came out as more of a hiccoughed grunt. “I’ve always had a preference for iced coffees.”

Aziraphale, to his credit, looked entirely unconvinced. But thankfully he didn’t question any further. 

“Perhaps we should get back on the bus?”

*

“You were ridiculous,” Aziraphale said, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Crowley was unfazed. “I made you laugh, though.”

“You did not!” The corners of Aziraphale’s full lips twitched upwards, and he pressed a hand against his mouth as though to stop them from going any further.

“You did. Or you wanted to, at least.” Crowley was smug with his reply. “Come on. Why is it so hard for you to admit that your boss is a total wanker?”

Aziraphale snorted into his hand, and it was like a slow payoff from the earlier suppressed smiles to the small giggles and now the snorting. Something like pride flared up in Crowley’s chest.

“Fine,” he said, once he’d calmed down a little. “Gabriel may not be… the most sympathetic of all managers. And yes, he certainly loves the sound of his own voice. But I’m quite used to him by now. And there’s always comfort to be derived from knowing what you can expect out of other people.”

Crowley twisted in his seat and peered into the aisle, eyeing the group of Seven Skies employees seated at the back of the bus. “Yeah, they definitely don’t seem to be the spontaneous type. Dreadful bores, the lot of them.”

He turned back to Aziraphale just in time to see him pressing a hand to his mouth again, and he raised a brow. “Seriously? You’ve got to stop doing that. Being happy isn’t a crime, Aziraphale, and you have a beautiful smile. You should get to do it without feeling guilty about it.”

Stunned blue-grey eyes stared at him for a moment, and Crowley began to feel a hint of panic as he snatched away his gaze. He recollected his cool composure, gazing across the aisle to see that the bus was rolling to a stop.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said over his shoulder, a touch dismayed. “It looks like we’re here.”

Crowley almost didn’t want to believe him. There was no denying it, though. Outside, the lights were fiery and blaring, and crowds rushed in and out of various crevices in between large buildings, a stark contrast to their little trek across the idyllic countryside just a while ago. There was no doubt that they were finally in Tokyo. 

“I’m ever so glad we ran into each other,” Aziraphale said, holding out a hand towards him. “It was nice getting to catch up. I wish you and your friends a great rest of the trip.”

“They’re not my friends,” Crowley replied automatically, reaching for Aziraphale’s offered hand, soft like silk. “But yeah, you-you too. Have a safe journey back home.”

Aziraphale gasped and pulled his hand away. “Goodness. You’re freezing!”

“I’ll survive.”

“What are you even wearing? Haven’t you got any gloves?”

Crowley would have liked to have a more substantial reply to offer, but that morning he had rather deliberately skipped on any of the accoutrements that he felt would have ruined the aesthetic he was going for, so he just shrugged.

Their coworkers were already beginning to stand from their seats, putting on their coats and collecting their belongings from the overhead rack.

Aziraphale whispered, a bit tentatively, “We should probably let the others go first.”

Crowley was quick to reply. “Yeah, absolutely.”

It bought them no more than a couple more minutes in their seats, but it was a couple of minutes well spent — in tension-filled silence, with the warmth of Aziraphale by his side and sneaky glances cast at each other.

Once all the others had left the bus, they put on their coats and Crowley reached for his bag on the rack. Together they braved the world outside. Aziraphale walked a couple paces ahead, and as he bent down to retrieve his bags from the luggage compartment, Crowley couldn’t resist running a cursory gaze over the blond’s arse. 

“Here you are,” Aziraphale said as he straightened up, and to Crowley’s surprise, he had Crowley’s suitcase in his hands, hauling the giant thing over the metal barrier and onto the pavement where Crowley stood.

“Th-thanks.” Crowley was definitely not swooning. That would be so uncool.

Once Aziraphale got his own bags, he stepped onto the pavement next to Crowley and gazed across the street.

“Where are you going now?” Crowley asked.

“I think we’re to head for our hotel.”

“Where are you guys staying?”

“If it’s still the same one as last year then we should be riding the train to Central Tokyo.”

“Not that far from here, then. Wouldn’t it be easier if you guys just get a cab?”

“My lot don’t really like taking cabs,” Aziraphale said, something bitter tainting his expression all of a sudden. “They dislike having to talk to cab drivers.”

“Bit pompous of them, if you ask me. But I guess that means we’re both heading inside the station, so I’m not complaining.”

“It would appear so.” Aziraphale waved a hand towards the main entrance to Tokyo Station. “After you, my dear.”

They headed inside the building, and as much as Crowley wanted to remain cool especially since he was on his final moments with Aziraphale, the clusterfuck of signboards that greeted him — blazing in all directions he looked at — gave him something remarkably close to an anxiety attack.

Despite his previous hopes and expectations, it appeared that he still couldn’t read.

“Well, I’m down this way.” Aziraphale jerked a thumb down one wing of the massive hub. “How about you?”

Crowley blinked at one of the unreadable signs. Some of the words were in English, sure, but how was he supposed to know which one he should get on? There were like twenty or thirty different boards!

“I should probably go look for my teammates.” Ask for his number, you dimwit. “Was great seeing you. Bye.”

“You too, Crowley. Thank you for being such wonderful company.”

Aziraphale’s smile was wide, unabashed, and directed at him.

“Take care.”

With a final wave, Aziraphale turned away and headed off in the direction of one row of ticket gates.

Once he was out of earshot, Crowley slapped his still freezing palm to his face and dragged it downwards.

Yeah, so. Not only do you have cold hands, apparently you’ve cold feet as well. Just great.

Maybe it was for the best, though. After all, if Aziraphale had also been interested, why hadn’t he asked for Crowley’s contact details? Besides, it might not have even worked out. Crowley was a jumbled mess, on various levels. He’d gotten dumped by his last partner just two days before he’d yeeted out of the continent. It would’ve been sleazy of him to jump right ahead and fall head over heels for another guy, right?

Right.

Crowley set out to look for his coworkers.

Which proved to be easier said than done. He walked around all sides of the main hall, hoping for a glimpse of any of his teammates, but the lines were numerous and the crowd was intense. He kept bumping into people, even rolled on a few outraged toes with his giant suitcase a few times. When it became clear that there wasn’t much hope for him, he took out his phone and opened up his messaging app. Just his luck that he had to find himself abandoned in what had to be the busiest station in all of Japan.

Where r u lot?

Ligur replied a few seconds later.

on train

Crowley rolled his eyes. 

Yeah i got that. Which one?

the one to the hotel genius

Crowley was just about to give up and open up Google maps when a flurry of beige, brown, and soft wavering from his peripheral vision caught his eye.

He looked up, and it was an awful lot like the universe had dropped a literal angel right on his path. 

A few feet away stood Aziraphale, fussing with one of the IC card machines and slotting a couple of bills into the feeder. Crowley took a deep breath, straightened his coat a little, and sidled right over to where he was standing.

“Uh. Hi again.”

Aziraphale looked up from the machine, his expression morphing from one of intense concentration to mild confusion before settling on surprise. 

“Crowley?” His mouth did an odd dance between a scowl and a smile, teetering on the thin line between the two. “Hello. Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, listen. I’m so relieved you haven’t left yet.”

“I was going to, but then I got to the gate and realised I haven’t enough.” Aziraphale waved his transport card lightly in the air before tucking it into his wallet. “Have you found your friends?”

“They’re not my friends,” Crowley said, scrolling through a webpage on his phone. “They left me, and I’ve no idea how to get to our hotel. Can you look at this and maybe tell me how to get there?”

“That’s not very sporting of them.” Aziraphale stepped away from the machine to lean over Crowley’s phone — an action that got him standing much too close all of a sudden. “Let me see… It’s familiar, but I’m not entirely sure I know how to get there. It would be better if we asked around.”

Crowley gestured helplessly at the throngs of people rushing past them in all directions. “Who can we ask?”

Aziraphale, for his part, did not appear to be disheartened. “There’s always someone willing to help.”

“Who’d even give a couple of old tourists their time of day?” Crowley scoffed.

“Oh, over there’s one of the station staff.” Aziraphale beamed excitedly. “We can ask her.”

“Err…” Crowley gaped and stammered, daunted at the idea of having to communicate even the most basic request of asking for directions. What a pathetic mess he’d turned into.

“Here. If I may?” Aziraphale held out his hand. Crowley nodded, and there was a soft, awfully warm hand grazing his knuckles to carefully extract his phone from his lax grip.

Together they approached a short, middle-aged woman wearing staff uniform, and Crowley was woefully unprepared for Aziraphale’s posh, flutelike voice, to go: “Sumimasen.*”

The station staff turned towards him with a smile. Crowley had but a moment to see the flicker of nervousness on the blond’s expression before he started speaking again.

“Michi o... oshiete kuremasen ka?”  

“Jusho wa nan des ka?”

“Erm… One moment.” Aziraphale held out Crowley’s phone, presumably to show her the address on the screen. 

The staff squinted over the words on the phone, then nodded and made her reply. Hand gestures and all. Crowley looked at Aziraphale, who glanced back at him with a wide-eyed gaze.

Crowley shrugged, as if to say: I have no idea what’s going on here but you’re doing great.

Aziraphale quickly reverted his focus back to the woman. “Sorry, ahh… Mo chotto… yukkuri onegaishimas?”

They exchanged a few more sentences, Aziraphale muttering softly — rather adorably — before thanking her. All in all it seemed like a pretty good conversation, at least from what Crowley was able to understand of it, which admittedly wasn’t very much but still.

“What did she say?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale handed him back his phone.

“You’re a little bit off to the east. You’ll want to ride the Yamanote Line to Kanda, then switch to the Ginza Line and get off at the end in Asakusa.”

“That just sounds like more chances for me to get lost.”

“You’ll be fine, my dear boy. If it helps, I will also be taking that first train, so I can at least show you the way there.”

It seemed his luck had just taken a sharp turn. Crowley still wasn’t sure he would manage to find their hotel ever, but an excuse to spend more time with Aziraphale? Worth it.

He followed Aziraphale through a set of long corridors, winding turns, and endless masses of people. It was dizzying, and his feet were aching from lugging around his bags, but the sight of Aziraphale before him kept him going. Now and then, Aziraphale would turn back to check on him and smile — only a small, still suppressed smile that Crowley was beginning to hope was reserved just for him. Like this, it was easy to imagine that he and Aziraphale were together. Like, really together. Travelling together, like on a holiday, or a honeym— 

“Going up,” Aziraphale warned just before he stepped on the escalator — all his stuff included. Crowley reacted a second too late and tripped on the edge, catching himself on the handrail and forcibly dragging his suitcase onto the step with him.

He had to shoot an apologetic-slash-charming smile at the teenage girl scowling at him from behind.

He caught up to Aziraphale’s side when they reached the platform.

“So, let me get this straight,” he told Aziraphale. “You guys get to stay in a classy hotel in Central Tokyo while we get dumped in a travelers hostel in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

“Sumida-ku is hardly the middle of nowhere,” Aziraphale said calmly.

“Oh yeah? You ever been?”

“Once. Last year,” he replied. “I went sightseeing. It’s quite nice. A lot less busy than here, certainly.”

Crowley cast a quick look around the platform. “By the way,” he said, “where are your coworkers?”

The lines on Aziraphale’s face suddenly went tight. “Well…”

“They left you too, huh?”

“Unlike you, at least I know how to find my way around,” Aziraphale snapped.

Perceiving that it must be a bit of a sore subject, Crowley offered a smile and shifted his gaze to the tracks. The station floors thrummed steadily when an incoming train approached their gate.

“Thank goodness,” Aziraphale said.

The people in line seemed very eager to get on, so then and there Crowley made a split-second decision. 

He grabbed Aziraphale’s elbow and tugged him aside.

“Crowley!”

“Before you say anything, just hear me out.”

“We’re missing our train!”

“You can get on the next one.”

“Just what do you think you are doing?”

Crowley grabbed him with both arms, leaning down a little so they were at eye level. “I have a proposal for you. Why don’t you spend the night with me?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks went a flaming shade. “What? No!”

“I didn’t mean like that.” Crowley sputtered. “Here’s the thing. I don’t actually want to go back to my hotel. I don’t want to see any of those pricks for at least another week. I do, however, want to see more of Tokyo and I do like spending time with you.”

A short distance away, the train doors opened, and the crowd thinned out as people got on. But the two of them stayed still, partially hidden by a large beam in the centre of the platform. Aziraphale was staring at him with wildly confused eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, glancing down at his feet before looking up at him again. “I have a plane to catch in the morning!”

“So we have all night. That’s plenty of time.” An urge arose to take Aziraphale’s hand in his own. Crowley tamped it down, but somehow it felt like the right thing to do in this situation.

“I can’t even begin to wonder where you got this idea from.” He shifted away, but Crowley held his arms more firmly, and he stopped moving.

A shy little glance sent down his way, and Crowley could see it now. A peek of it. A tiny spark, a look that more whispered rather than said: Convince me?

“Think of it this way.” He paused for dramatic effect, but also to rack his brains for a compelling explanation. “Do you want to go back to your hotel? Spend another boring night with a bunch of people you don’t even like hanging out with?”

“Well I’m not looking forward to it, but—”

“No buts. Earlier you told me you like knowing what to expect out of other people. You know what to expect from your coworkers, and are you having fun?”

Aziraphale sighed. “No.”

“Exactly. Now me, on the other hand. Look at me. I’m new. I crashed into your space during that conference and I’ve made things exciting for you, and I can see you’re having fun!”

Aziraphale pressed a hand to his mouth, his shoulders shaking. “Dear.”

“You are having fun, aren’t you?” Crowley may have put on a bit of a pout. No one could fault him for lack of theatrics, after all.

“Oh, of course I am,” admitted the blond. “But this… really?”

“This, right now, could be one of those moments you’ll look back on in ten years and wonder what could have happened, how the night could have gone if you’d taken that strikingly handsome man’s offer of a night stroll around Tokyo.”

“You certainly like to flatter yourself.” 

A rush of relief went through him now that Aziraphale looked more relaxed. “All I’m saying is, wouldn’t you rather look back and know how the night went instead?”

Aziraphale stared at him with wide-eyed amazement. “You’re actually serious.”

“Say yes to me, Aziraphale, and I’ll make you the happiest you’ve ever been — at least for tonight.”

Aziraphale softly began to chuckle, and Crowley had a slight moment of panic at thinking that he was being made fun of — until he saw Aziraphale’s smile grow wider, his curls bouncing as he shook his head in resignation. “Oh, blister it. Fine! Yes.”

Crowley’s jaw hung open. “Yes?”

“But I need to head back to my hotel sometime later,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Our flight leaves very early.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Don’t ruin the fun now. We’ve barely even started.”

“And I see you’re already regretting your decision.”

“No! I’m not. Don’t say that,” Crowley said, unable to take the sudden disheartened tone Aziraphale’s voice had taken. “You have to know I’m happy to spend more time with you.”

He seemed to soften at that, the sparkle in his eyes shining just a tad brighter. “So am I.”

His smile was just the thing to send a flash of warmth down to Crowley’s freezing limbs.

“Alright, great.” Crowley glanced back at the rails and saw another train approaching. “We still getting on that?”

The train slowed to a stop, the doors hissing open just as Aziraphale stepped forward. “I don’t see why not,” he said, throwing Crowley a glance over his shoulder. “Our goal is to get you acquainted with the city, isn’t it? Then you might as well continue the journey you planned on taking.”

It didn’t make a lot of sense to Crowley. After all, if they were after an adventure, why should they go along with what he’d planned on doing before? But Aziraphale seemed determined, and Crowley didn’t want to question him at the moment. So he gathered his bags around him and followed him onto the train.

They switched to another line after that, and availed themselves of some of the coin lockers inside the station for them to leave their bags in. At that point they’d become such a huge part of Crowley that he almost felt naked without them. Aziraphale, however, was visibly more relaxed. He swung his arms out sideways as they took the stairs up, emerging from the underground and back out into the open air.

It was closing in on six o’clock — Crowley noted with a deep scowl as he checked his phone. He shook off the unsettling feeling that the seconds were trickling down, slowly moving away from him. The feeling that this, whatever it was they were about to do, had a deadline. He shook that all off, and placed his focus on Aziraphale’s soft, awestruck face instead. The night was young. Surely they had plenty of time for whatever.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take very long for Aziraphale to note the slight shivers that racked Crowley’s wiry frame almost as soon as they’d returned to the streets. The sky had gone entirely dark now, and the city was falling almost into a lull, and he’d put on his tartan scarf to try to preserve some of his own heat. Crowley, though, was still in his slim coat and red turtleneck. At first Aziraphale had thought that he was simply one of those people that didn’t get cold very easily, but now he began to doubt that was true.

“So, uhh…” Crowley had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he cast careful looks over at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale caught his eye, but felt the urge to immediately look away. 

“Um.” He tried for a grin. “This is a little awkward.”

“Ngh, yeah, it kinda is. Sorry.” Crowley gave a nervous laugh that Aziraphale found strangely endearing. “But-but hey, we just gotta keep talking, right? Just keep talking.”

“What do we talk about?”

“I dunno. Anything. You can tell me anything.”

They were both content to take a moment’s pause as they crossed a street, and some distance away on the other end, Aziraphale spotted a line of three vending machines resting on a wire fence that partly bounded a small car park.

He gave Crowley a little side glance. “You lied to me earlier, didn’t you?” 

“Hm?”

“About your coffee. You got a cold drink without meaning to.”

Crowley tightened his lips, and behind those midnight black circular glasses Aziraphale imagined that his eyes were narrowed at him. He waved his hand dismissively in the air. “So I pressed the wrong button. So what?”

“My goodness.” Aziraphale laughed disbelievingly. “You are stubborn, aren’t you? Why don’t you just ask someone for help?”

“I do, if I really need it.” They were nearing the vending machines and now Crowley looked at them too. “But if it’s something I can solve by myself, I don’t see why I have to be a bother to anyone.”

“Of course. And you’re perfectly capable of getting yourself a warm drink.”

“I am!” Crowley stopped walking to turn to look at him. “You don’t believe I’m capable?”

Aziraphale beamed innocently. “Oh, of course you are, my dear boy. Very capable.”

Crowley scowled even further. “I’ll prove it to you.” He stopped right in front of the machines, and seemed to ponder very seriously which one he should get a drink from. Aziraphale hovered by his shoulder.

“I’m here for you, my dear,” he said encouragingly.

Crowley groaned, looked back and glared at him. “You’ll see.” 

A cloud of air blew from Crowley’s mouth as he breathed deeply and squared his shoulders. He reached for his coin wallet.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale murmured, just shy of his upper arm. 

“What?” he growled back.

“Please do not kick the drink machine.”

Crowley did not look amused. He turned back to the machine, staring at the array of flashing lights and inserted his coins into the slot. “Let’s see…”

“Would you care for a recommendation?”

“No, I don’t care for a bloody recommendation.” Huffing, Crowley pressed a button from the second row of drinks, sending a plastic bottle of what appeared to be green tea tumbling down. 

Aziraphale snickered into his palm. 

“What’re you laughing at?” 

“Nothing!”

“It has to be right this time,” he said, reaching into the compartment and grabbing the drink. 

Desperate to keep his composure mostly intact, Aziraphale pressed his lips together. “What are your findings, professor?”

Crowley’s grip tightened around the bottle as he released a long groan. “This thing doesn’t serve warm drinks! It doesn’t!”

“It doesn’t?” Aziraphale feigned surprise. “Shall I have a look?”

Crowley looked to be moments away from punching him. Instead, he stepped back, waving his hand with a flourish. “By all means, good sssir.”

Still smiling, Aziraphale stepped up to the machine, placing his own coins into the slot. He scanned the rows of drinks, trying to decide what he was in the mood for. Behind him, Crowley had stepped back on the edge of the kerb and was kicking air on the pavement.

Not even a minute later, he strode back to Crowley’s side, holding the same bottle of tea that Crowley had gotten for himself.

“See?” Crowley groaned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale said, slowly twisting the cap off and letting out a burst of steam into the air. “Now it feels a bit strange, drinking tea out of a bottle, but I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

Crowley gave him the most horrified look. “This is tea?”  

Aziraphale took a sip, letting the hot liquid swim in his throat before swallowing, and nodded. 

“H-how…” 

“I told you, you can just ask for help.”

“No, I’ll figure it out. It’s unfair to begin with since you can actually read all these things.”

“Who said I could read Japanese? Did I give you that impression?” Aziraphale said, tipping his head to the side in a silent invitation for them to resume their walk.

The redhead sputtered indignantly. “Then how the fuck—?”

“Crowley. There’s a very simple way to solve this. Just ask.”

“No way am I giving up that easily,” Crowley tucked his drink into the sleek black bag he carried with him. 

“I see. You are determined, then, to get your drink.”

“I’m determined to prove you wrong!” 

“Then at this rate I’ll be much surprised if you ever manage it at all.”

“You ought to have more faith in me than that.” Crowley paused for a moment, thinking. “Tell you what. What I’ll do is, each time we pass by one of those machines, I have to get a drink. And when I do manage to get a warm one, you’ll… you’ll owe me one.”

“You must be joking! We could pass by a hundred of these things in one night! You’ll be bound to get a correct one some time, and only by sheer luck.”

“Mm… yeah, you’re right.”

“You need a limit,” Aziraphale said. “You only get three tries throughout the night.”

“Five tries.”

“Three, and you’ve already used up one of them.”

“For fuck’s sake, fine!” Crowley glared at the ground as they approached another crossing. “Shouldn’t take me that long to figure it out anyway. And when I do, I’ll claim my reward real quick.”

“Of course you will, dear. Best of luck.”

Crowley muttered angrily, shoving his hands inside his coat pockets again. “Where do you want to go now?”

The question brought Aziraphale out of his teasing mood and reminded him of his previous concern. He took in the sight of Crowley’s wind-bitten cheeks, his shoulders hunching in on himself, and frowned disapprovingly. “You need to get yourself a pair of gloves,” he said, “and possibly a scarf.”

“Eh, that’s not really for me. Kinda ruins the whole vibe I’m going for, you know?”

Aziraphale sharpened his expression. “You proposed that we go around the city in December, and I don’t fancy ending the night with having to rush you into emergencies for hypothermia.”

Crowley abruptly stopped walking, gaze fixed on the sight before him. “Whoa.”

It was easy enough to figure out what had snagged Crowley’s attention. The thing was pretty hard to miss, after all.

Aziraphale stared up at the giant towering temple gate standing just across the street from where they stood. It was a thing of beauty, with two golden statues off to the side guarding a massive lantern hanging right above the entrance.

“Was… was this here before?” Crowley said, rather ridiculously.

“Yes. We circled the block back to the station, actually. I don’t know how you were able to miss it the first time,” Aziraphale replied. “It was one of the first landmarks I visited here last year, though I haven’t been to see it at night like this. It’s called the Kaminarimon.”

“What’re you standing there for, then? Let’s go in.”

“The shops are probably about to close, though, and the crowd.”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley turned to face him, smiling reassuringly. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Who cares if the shops are closing? You’ve already seen it during the day. Tell me all about it, then.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Aziraphale wrung his fingers nervously. These days he was very careful to choose when he should talk about the things he would only end up rambling endlessly on about. He’d been informed — in no uncertain terms — that it was annoying, and Crowley was the last person he wanted to subject to that. 

Crowley softened. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. It’s probably best if we just head on and look for somewhere to have dinner.”

“But I wanna go in there.” Crowley pointed at the very large, bright red gate, pouting like a child who wasn’t allowed any sweets. “Come on, please? I’m really interested to hear what you can tell me about it.”

Aziraphale took a long moment to figure out whether he was actually serious. No one had ever asked him something like that before. He blushed faintly, looking away and turning towards the gate. “Come along, then.”

Side by side they passed through the bright red columns, walked underneath the gently swaying lantern, and emerged onto the temple grounds. Before them was a narrow street lined with softly lit small shops that, on looking forward, seemed to stretch endlessly.

“At the end of this is a temple,” Aziraphale said, his voice slightly shaky. “It’s the oldest in all of Tokyo.”

He waited for Crowley to speak — to say anything. He waited for any indication that he was enjoying this or that he wanted Aziraphale to stop talking. But he was completely silent, his face entirely relaxed. The lights from the nearby shops washed a bit of softness onto his strong profile, and Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from staring. He was very beautiful.

They went at a slow pace, making their way through the street and occasionally checking the goods for anything that caught their fancy. Crowley uttered a few ridiculous remarks here and there, but for the most part it was Aziraphale who spoke, and Crowley was content to listen.

As their little excursion went on, Aziraphale found himself feeling less guarded. He threw in all his anecdotes, all the little details he noted, as well as the additional things he’d learned from reading a few books. He did not shy away this time, and it was strange when he recalled that he’d met Crowley barely six hours ago. Their banter was easy, their laughter even more so. This thing — this spontaneous trip that he’d initially thought he was mad to have agreed to — felt right. They’d started talking in the conference, on this very same day. It felt as though they’d been talking for years.

He wondered if it was only his imagination, or if Crowley was drifting, little by little, closer to his side as time went on. Because now their sides brushed with each step they took, their coats not quite enough to quell the spark produced from each increasingly more deliberate touch. When Crowley took his hand out of his pocket, Aziraphale brushed it with his own, and even through his glove he could feel how cold it was. 

It became even more apparent when Crowley’s hand wrapped around his, fingers digging into his palm, as though to chase the warmth of it.

He turned to look at Crowley, who carefully kept his own gaze straight ahead.

“Crowley?"

“Can we just…” Crowley inhaled sharply, avoiding his searching eyes. “I like it. M’sorry.”

Aziraphale bit his lip to hold back a smile. “I like it, too.” Much to his immense satisfaction, Crowley’s hand climbed up higher as it gained confidence, his long fingers almost to his wrist, coated in the thick edge of his glove. “But we really should be getting you a pair of gloves. You must be freezing.”

Crowley groaned at the sudden reminder, his soft look fading off into his more typical stubborn pout. “Fine. But only the gloves. No scarf. And only if they have ‘em in black.”

This was quite possibly the most that Aziraphale could hope for. He nodded. “Let’s turn back.” He tugged on Crowley’s hand so they could circle back on the street and lead the way to the next right turn. “There are more shops down this way that are likely to have them.”

*

They passed by another set of vending machines along the way. Aziraphale, beaming, yanked Crowley’s hand and said, “Care to rise to the challenge one more time?”

Crowley gave him a mock sleazy grin, sliding his hand from Aziraphale’s grasp to make a show of flexing his bicep. “I’ll get it right this time, you’ll see.”

Aziraphale slapped a hand over his mouth and giggled at the display. At how remarkably dorky and oddly endearing it was. “Good luck.”

Without preamble, Crowley strode up confidently to the machine, put in his coins, and pressed a button with a bit of flourish.

“This is the right one,” Crowley said as he reached in. “I can feel it.”

As a valiant attempt at encouragement, Aziraphale sent him a thumbs up.

When Crowley reached for the drink, he was barely able to conceal his wince. “Aw, for Satan’s sake!”

Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder, stepping close to slide it down his upper arm before trailing it back up. He could feel Crowley watching him intently behind his sunglasses. “There, there. I’m sure you’ll get it right.” 

“But!” Crowley huffed, gesturing at the machine in pure exasperation. Aziraphale almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“For what it’s worth, you can give up this silly thing altogether and I can just tell you.” Aziraphale gazed up at him through his lashes, and Crowley seemed to drift a tiny bit closer.

“No chance.” He gave Aziraphale a roguish grin that sent a swarm of butterflies to his stomach. “I’d like to see you give it a try.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, no. I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, my dear. This one doesn’t serve warm drinks.”

Crowley’s face went slack, his jaw hanging open.

“But you told me to—”

“It was just a little suggestion. You could’ve refused.”

“You tricked me!” Crowley turned away and raked his hand into his hair, making it stick up wildly, and he was back in front of the machine once again, glaring forcefully at the twelve or so flashing lights, arranged into two neat rows. “This is insane. How could you even tell? It looks exactly like all the other ones!”

“I thought you didn’t want me to tell you?” Aziraphale said, dripping with mock innocence.

“And here I thought you were an angel.”

“A what?” 

They both went silent, Aziraphale’s hand still a light weight above Crowley’s elbow. 

Crowley seemed to steel himself for something, making a decision before speaking more firmly. “An angel.”

“Well, I… I’m not sure what made you think that.” His cheeks went suddenly warm. 

Crowley gave a half-shrug. “Do I need a reason? It’s just what I think. How you look like to me.”

“I hardly think there’s anything particularly angelic about me…”

The fine line of Crowley’s mouth curled into a smirk. “After what you just did, I’m inclined to agree.”

Outraged, Aziraphale went on to swat his arm. 

And by the time they reached the new line of shops, they were holding hands again.

“These ones look like they’d be good on you.” Aziraphale picked up a pair of gloves from the sales rack lining one side of the open-air shopping street. 

Crowley, who had previously been attempting to look uninterested in the whole thing, inspected them closely. They were made of black leather, lined with fur on the inside to ensure they’d be kept nice and toasty.

But it was foolish of Aziraphale to think that he’d be that easy to win over. “Bit tacky, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” Aziraphale replied, the corner of his mouth twitching, just a touch unsure. “I think it suits your coat perfectly. It’s sleek. Sartorial and, dare I say it? Kind of sexy.”

“A-ah.” All of a sudden, the confident grin fell from Crowley’s face. “Hey. I have to tell you something.”

The moment was broken, and something heavy sank in the pit of Aziraphale’s stomach. Of course he’d been too forward. Crowley didn’t like that, obviously. He was so silly to think that Crowley would be receptive to it. Receptive to him.  

“What is it?”

“It’s just a silly question, really. Don’t feel like you have to answer a certain way.”

“You are making me quite anxious right now. Have I done something wrong?”

“No!” Crowley replied quickly. “It’s about the drinks thing. The reward I mentioned earlier?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, mildly taken aback. “Alright. What does that have to do with—”

“Cause I think I know what I want for a reward,” Crowley said breathily, “but first I have to ask if you're alright with it.”

“What for?” Aziraphale was truly filled with nerves now.

Crowley stepped forward, well into his personal space, and somehow didn’t stop until their faces were only inches apart. His breaths came out warm, ghosting just so over Aziraphale’s quivering mouth, and Aziraphale felt a rhythmless beat from somewhere in his chest that was only vaguely registered.

“Because I’m going to ask for a kiss,” Crowley whispered, slow and deliberate, careful not to frighten, “and I want to know you’re okay with that.”

Aziraphale blinked a couple of times, overwhelmed by the sudden lack of distance between them, by the warmth that kept drawing him in. He didn’t realise he’d been silent for a long time until Crowley tentatively spoke again.

“I-I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have asked, I know.”

“Okay.”

Crowley looked stunned. “What was that?”

There was no way for Aziraphale to resist the pull of Crowley’s gaze, the weight of it more than welcome as he felt it settle in. He had never known himself to be capable of this much feeling, of this much near-childish bout of attraction. It was almost laughable, the way he reacted to Crowley. The redhead made a mark on him, just as he had back when they were still teenagers in Tadfield. And at the moment, it almost certainly felt like he was that young again.

“If you manage to do it… I’ll kiss you.”

To sate a tiny burst of curiosity that sprung up, Aziraphale lowered his gaze to Crowley’s lips — chapped, blooming pink and supple, and parted slightly in shock.

Tearing his gaze away, Crowley put on the leather gloves, pulling them up to his wrists before smirking at him. “Do you think I’m sexy now?”

“You fiend!” Aziraphale stormed off with an indignant huff, but Crowley’s hearty laughter was never far off behind.

*

“Tell me about your childhood.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help sending him an odd look. “Why would you ask about that of all things? It’s probably the only thing about me that you already know.”

By this time, it had gone well and truly dark, and the brief flash of red as they approached a stoplight on the road made Crowley’s hair look flaming. He didn’t have his hands shoved in his pockets now. Rather, they were swinging freely by his sides, still managing to be gangly even under his coat. 

Earlier that day Aziraphale had struggled to keep up with Crowley’s much longer legs as they walked, but they set a pace now. A pace for just the two of them to take. Their sides brushed occasionally, and with each step it felt as though they became more reluctant to separate. 

Crowley shrugged. “I mean, I know you were born in Tadfield. Saw you around school sometimes, but I don’t think I ever got to talk to you all that much.”

“Well, I was never much of a talking type,” Aziraphale replied. “You didn’t even remember me at first.”

“What?”

“During the conference! I recognised you almost immediately, but you didn’t remember me until I brought it up first.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is!” Aziraphale laughed, full and hearty. “You don’t need to sugarcoat it, my dear. I am rather forgettable.”

“Don’t say that. You’re very hard to forget about.”

Crowley’s voice was suddenly low, graver than Aziraphale had expected. He chanced a glance over at his companion, and was about to ask more about it when Crowley spoke again: “Where are we going anyway?”

“There’s a river nearby with some pretty views on it. I thought you might want to see it, and there’s a bridge too. We haven’t been to the other side yet.”

“Makes sense.” Said bridge appeared in the distance, gleaming in the same shade of bright red as the Kaminarimon. A smattering of tall lamp posts washed golden light over the entire structure, giving it a regal look that stood strong on top of the still waters of the river underneath.

Across the bridge, a few skyscrapers stuck out over the horizon, lit up with lights of all colours. A huge grin formed on Crowley’s face as they stopped to admire the view.

“Wait, I know what this one is.” Crowley pointed a finger at the tall broadcast tower. “Tokyo Skytree. Saw it all over the booking websites.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Indeed.”

“But that one…” Crowley’s finger dragged a little off to the side, pointing at an oddly-shaped monument in gleaming gold. “That’s—” 

Aziraphale threw him a sharp glare. “Don’t say it.”*

Crowley pressed his lips tight and snorted, melting his mischievous beam into a sparkling grin. “Wasn’t gonna.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Crowley nudged him by the elbow as they resumed their walk across the bridge. “Come on, I wanna know.”

“Know what?”

“Know you.”

“You already know me.”

“Hmm… What about your firsts? Who was your first love?”

Aziraphale threw his head back in laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, dear. I just… didn’t think you were serious.”

“I am very serious. Now, tell me. Who?”

Crowley had come close, hovering close by his shoulder, and Aziraphale glimpsed his own reflection in the dark circular lenses he wore. 

Aziraphale shrugged nonchalantly. “No one.”

“What do you mean ‘no one’?”

“I mean exactly that.” Aziraphale glanced down at the softly shifting lights over the surface of the river, feeling he’d never been more earnest than when he said, “I have never been in love.”

A beat of silence passed whilst Crowley contemplated this answer, a puzzled look fixed on his face. 

“That’s a bit hard to believe.”

“What? You find it hard to believe that for some, love isn’t all there is? That it’s very much not all that everyone’s hyped it up to be?” Aziraphale grew more pointed with every word. “I will have you know that there is an entire spectrum of aromantic people who are inclined to disagree with you.”

“And are you? Aromantic?”

Aziraphale paused for a moment. “No.”

“It surprises me, is all,” Crowley said. “You just… just look like you have so much love around you all the time. Like you’re just that person who makes everyone fall in love with you left and right, and you’re so eager to love in return.”

“That cannot be further from the truth. Most of the time I’m sure people hardly even want me around. I can’t imagine anyone falling in love with me.” He added a mirthless chuckle.

The weight of Crowley’s gaze lay heavy over his shoulder. “It’s much easier than you’d think.”

Against himself, Aziraphale’s face went warm. “You completely ridiculous man.”

“So, you’ve never been in love. Never been in a relationship—”

“No, I’ve dated a few times, if you must know.”

“You must’ve liked them quite a bit if you dated them.”

“Well, I enjoyed their company, yes. And I think, to a certain degree, I did love them, but should we attribute any strong sense of feeling to us being in love? How can you even be sure that every time you feel strongly for someone that you’re in love?”

The expression that Crowley’s face took on was part way between stunned and disapproving, and when a small laugh bubbled past his lips, Aziraphale frowned.

“See, now you’re making fun of me! I knew it. This is why I never like to talk about these things.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Crowley said reassuringly. “It’s the way you talk, that’s all. Feel strongly. You sound like someone from a Dickens novel.”

“You—”

“It’s cute.” He ruffled Aziraphale’s hair, which made the latter scowl and duck away from his hand. Crowley laughed again. “Alright. So you don’t have a first love… What about a crush?”

He rolled his eyes. “Really? We are far too old to still be throwing around that terminology.”

“You’ve been talking like a Victorian since we met this morning. Everything’s a bit timey wimey right now, I hardly think adding ‘crush’ into the mix will warp the continuum.”

“You are so dramatic.” They reached the end of the bridge, coming upon a broad highway which they crossed methodically, and onto a junction of narrower streets oriented diagonally from the main road. Aziraphale took a cursory glance around. “If I’m not mistaken, your hotel should be somewhere around here.”

“Forget that.” Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “C’mon, you can’t tell me you haven’t had any crushes either.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale was pensive for a moment, placing a gloved hand to his cheek and carefully avoiding his companion’s gaze. “There was this one guy.”

“Now we’re talking. How old were you?”

“About… fifteen or so.”

“Fifteen? Someone we went to school with, then?”

Aziraphale nodded. “He was quite handsome, and he seemed like a really nice person. I felt like, sometimes, we could’ve become very good friends.”

“What do you mean, did you never try to talk to him?”

“There was never an opportunity,” replied Aziraphale, with a slightly wistful smile. “Besides, I doubt he would’ve been interested.”

“Why wouldn’t a sod like that think you’re a catch?” Crowley grumbled, and in wordless agreement they drifted over to the left side of the road and turned a corner.

“No, I assure you. He was very well out of my league, as they say.” At Crowley’s disbelieving look, he continued. “I was very shy, had little to no friends, and didn’t have a lot of things to say. He would never have found me interesting.”

“And how do you know for sure?”

“It’s the most logical conclusion, isn’t it? And mind you, I’m not asking for sympathy. I was more than alright with my own company. I have always preferred solitude. I still do.”

“Fair enough. But my point still stands. You couldn’t have been sure he would’ve ignored you, because you never tried to talk to him.”

“I didn’t need to.” A sudden flash of faint purple lights caused him to glance up at the sky, where he could see the tower from a much closer distance now.

“You were scared.”

“I was not!”

“You were. You came up with all these scenarios of him thinking you’re too boring or annoying or whatever, and that scared you. And now you’ll never know, whether you’d have been friends or not, or gotten together or not. It’s forever a mystery. Because you never tried to get over that fear.”

“And why should we try to get over them? I was never too fond of that narrative, you know. Fear is a natural human response. We shouldn’t be shamed for feeling it. And how about people with genuine phobias? You can’t push everyone out of their comfort zone, that would be very rude.”

“Alright, I’ll grant you that. Not all fears need to be overcome, but you shouldn’t run away from all of them either. Just think of the things you missed out on. Doesn’t that bother you, even a little bit?”

“Not really… Though I suppose it’s not something I’d considered before.”

“Think about it now then, all the things you feel are missing from your life,” Crowley said. “Really try to get a feel of ‘em. How many do you think you could’ve gotten if you’d only faced your fear?”

He stared at Aziraphale as he spoke, and the lazy grin he wore brought a subtle ache in Aziraphale’s chest that he was not quite willing to confront. Instead, he trained his gaze back up at the tower, regarding its nighttime hues and picturesque beauty. “It must be so high up if you were standing there.”

“You ever been?”

“No,” he replied. “The crowds can get a bit… overwhelming, so I thought it best not to go in. It’s still beautiful from the outside, though.”

Crowley stared up as well, his neck straining with the effort now that they were much closer to the tower than before. 

“I had one too.”

Puzzled, Aziraphale turned to look at him. “Had what?”

“A crush.” Crowley did not tear his gaze away from the top of the tower, where the disks of observation decks stuck out from its otherwise sleek frame. “A crush that I never had the guts to talk to. And now I’ll never know how it could’ve gone. S’one of my biggest regrets.”

“I can hardly believe… I mean, you?”

“What about me?”

“You had everyone positively doting on you when we were kids. Never a room, never a hallway you walked into where there wasn’t at least one person sighing over how handsome you are.”

He halted his own speech there, fearing he’d reveal too much if he continued to let his mouth run on. But it turned out to be unnecessary, because it seemed Crowley wasn’t even listening to him.

Rather, he pointed up at the observation decks and said, “Let’s go up there.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “What? Right now?”

“This thing closes in like two hours, you know we’ve to do it right now.”

Unease grew in his stomach as Aziraphale glanced at the small mass of people walking about the grounds. “I’m not quite sure…”

Warm hands gripped his shoulders, clasping tight, and Aziraphale’s inhale turned sharp as he felt Crowley drift close behind him, his voice a puff of breath sitting over his left shoulder.

“This is your chance,” he murmured, and a shiver ran down Aziraphale’s spine. “A chance to recollect all the things you missed out on.”

“What does this have to do with—”

“Listen to me. If you don’t do it now, you’ll miss out on seeing what’s up there.”

“But the people!”

“It’ll be fine. The view from up there will be worth it, don’t you think?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Exactly. And you never will if you continue to dawdle about it down here. Just this once, angel, wouldn’t you rather actually know ?”

The unexpected endearment took him aback, and he swayed lightly on his feet. Aziraphale took deep breaths to steady himself, leaning his weight on Crowley a little. He stared up at the imposing structure, and after a few seconds of silent thinking, of weighing out all the options, he finally gave a stiff nod.

Crowley stepped aside, and Aziraphale had a short moment to feel the loss of his proximity until one of his hands slid down Aziraphale’s arm to curl loosely around his palm.

“So,” Crowley said, and if Aziraphale didn’t know any better he’d think he detected a bit of shakiness in his voice, “we go in together, alright?”

“Yes,” he responded without hesitation, though he had to wonder how much of that could be chalked up to false courage. “Together.”

He gripped tightly to Crowley’s hand as they made their way toward the entrance lifts.

Chapter Text

The winds blew a tad stronger now that they were situated around five storeys above ground. The main entrance stood a few steps away, cast aglow with golden light from the main hall inside. With a deep breath, Crowley took a look around, seeing the cityscape that now stood at a greater distance from himself than before. The pounding in his chest became harder to ignore. If this was how it looked like right here, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like from all the way up there.

“Crowley?”

He turned back to find an inquisitive Aziraphale, his white curls all the more fluffed by the cool breeze. His cheeks were faintly pink, his chin tucked underneath the thick tartan scarf wrapped around his neck. It twisted something almost cruel in Crowley’s gut, to have him so close yet so far away.

He smiled at Crowley, though he looked a little uncertain about it. “Are we heading inside?”

Crowley was helpless but to return the smile. “Yeah. Lead the way.”

The crowd thinned out considerably when they arrived at the main lobby, and it didn’t take them long to get their tickets. Crowley grinned triumphantly as he spoke to Aziraphale. “See? It’s not as bad as you feared. I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

“Well you don’t have to look so smug about it.”

They were then guided onto another set of lifts, the dark metal doors framed with exquisite black marble. Crowley and Aziraphale waited at the back of the line until the doors opened with a muffled ding and people began trickling inside.

He heard Aziraphale’s sharp intake of breath as they were plunged into the dimly lit box, and more people streamed in that pushed them further off to the side. They were spaced only a few inches apart, and just when Crowley thought that would be the end of it, a couple stragglers bounded up to the lift doors, smiling apologetically before cramming themselves in the small remaining space available.

When the doors closed, it was completely silent — save for the small whimper that came from beside Crowley. 

The sight of Aziraphale, his shoulders stiff and his mouth twisted unpleasantly, pierced something in Crowley’s gut. The lift began to move, sending that floating sensation for a fraction of a second before it whizzed up the floors of the building. Crowley’s breathing grew heavy. How high up was this thing again? He didn’t know the exact measurement, but hella fucking high must have been the answer, because soon enough an odd sort of pressure laid heavy on his ears, as though he was back in a plane that was taking off from the runway.

And Aziraphale, even under the warm pin lights of the ceiling edges, was deathly pale.

It was quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop, so Crowley carefully brought down his hand, nudging it toward Aziraphale’s knuckles. Wordlessly, Aziraphale took the lifeline, clinging to him with their fingers entwined. He was wide-eyed, stricken with discomfort as he gazed up at Crowley, and guilt speared him hard.

Aziraphale didn’t just hate crowds. He was claustrophobic.

His grip on Crowley’s hand was like steel as they continued the journey upward, but Crowley didn’t dare complain. Mercifully, the doors opened up some time later, and in small groups the passengers filtered out of the lift and onto the dark and spacious observation deck that gave way for a panoramic view of the night sky.

Aziraphale did not drift far away from the lifts, taking hold of the handrail as he collected his breathing in large heaves.

“Aziraphale, are you alright? Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I—”

“It’s fine, dear.”

“No, it isn’t. Do you wanna go? We can leave right now, get back to what we were doing.”

“Crowley, stop. I’m alright.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand and smiled feebly. “We’re already here, and I do believe the worst of it is over.” He took a look around the room, his eyes sparkling.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Now come. I want to see what’s out there.”

A sharp tug on his hand caused Crowley to stumble forward, following Aziraphale as they circled about the gallery, looking for a clearing by the windows that they could occupy. Crowley’s steps went somewhat shaky, trodding heavier the closer they approached the floor-to-ceiling glass. He chose to focus on Aziraphale, on the dazzling white of his teeth peeking out from an angelic beam, and on the muted lights playing on his curls. He was still holding Crowley’s hand, and before he knew it, Aziraphale released it to press both hands onto the railing, gazing down at the expanse of the sprawling city beneath them.

“Oh,” he whispered, his face softer than Crowley had ever seen it. “How beautiful.”

“Is it?” Crowley blurted out involuntarily. 

From the side, Aziraphale cast him a curious look. “Shouldn’t you be looking at the view?”

Crowley nodded tightly. “Yep. Yeah, I should.”

With another steadying breath, Crowley turned towards the glass.

A blanket of velvet darkness, stretching out as far as the eye could see, spilled laterally along the horizon. His trembling hands found the railing, pressing down until his fingertips went numb. This isn’t so bad.

A smattering of twinkling lights brought the city to life as Crowley tipped down his chin, slowly… slowly letting the lights and buildings and streets and moving cars fill his vision. His breathing came hard and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears, but he squared his shoulders and forced himself to look.

“Ngah!”

He released the railing like it had burnt him, stumbling several steps back while intense wooziness took over his lanky frame.

“Crowley!” 

A panicked Aziraphale rushed over to his side, weaving an arm around his waist — and it was all well and good since the entire world was spinning and Crowley didn’t know how to get it to stop.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Crowley waved off his other attempts to reach out, though the arm still around his waist was certainly nothing to complain about. 

“Do you want some water? Please don’t try to exert yourself.”

Crowley didn’t want him to fuss, but his forehead was damp with cold sweat and, though he’d calmed down considerably, his fingers were still trembling.

“Yeah, water would be good, I think.”

Aziraphale’s hand drifted over to his lower back, drawing soothing circles through the fabric of his coat as he shot Crowley a look of deep concern — a look that only served to make him feel more guilty.

“Right.” He guided Crowley to lean on one of the columns near the centre of the gallery. “Stay here and I’ll be back in a bit.”

Crowley sighed defeatedly as he watched Aziraphale retreat. What a pathetic show that had been. He cursed himself in contemplative silence, trying not to think of where he was and choosing to glare at the sturdy column beside him instead.

Aziraphale came back a few minutes later, handing him an uncapped bottle of water. Crowley downed half the contents in one go, and said nothing even as he felt the blond’s relentless stare.

“You’re afraid of heights.”

Crowley wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Let’s get back there.”

“Are you out of your mind? Just now you nearly passed out!”

“I wasn’t gonna pass out!” Crowley grumbled, the turn of the conversation feeling like hives on his skin. He itched to get away from it, and he took one step back towards the glass. “I’m fine. I just need to get… get used to it, that’s all. Least I know what to expect now.”

“You’re not going back there,” Aziraphale said, his voice stern. “This was obviously a terrible idea and we’re getting out now.”

“Aziraphale, come on, we barely just started!” He gently grabbed Aziraphale’s elbow and pulled him forward. “And you were enjoying yourself too. Admit it.”

“I was, until you gave me a fright and now I’m all nerves again!”

“I’m sorry, okay? Got some water in me now. I promise I’m fine. Let’s return to the windows, yeah?”

Aziraphale kept a wary eye on him as they walked, but before they could even go anywhere near the handrails, he halted and forced Crowley to stop as well.

“We’ll stay here,” he said, entirely in a tone that dared Crowley to protest. “We won’t be going any further.”

Crowley cast a shifty glance at the windows and nodded. “Not sure it’s nearly as exciting, but fine.”

Aziraphale waved a hand above the horizon, shrouded in the void. “You can appreciate the sky much better from this distance.”

Crowley followed his hand with his gaze and had to agree. “I’ve always loved the stars. Not that I can see any from here.”

“Mm. I’m afraid they’re never prominent in the large cities. Not even in London.”

“Why are you afraid of crowds?” There was no trace of malice in Crowley’s voice, and he knew Aziraphale wouldn’t think there was any.

Aziraphale lifted a brow. “Why are you afraid of heights?”

“How’s that saying go again? I don’t fear heights, I just don’t wanna fall.”

“But this was your idea in the first place.” Aziraphale spoke slowly, as though he was still trying to make sense of his own words. “If you knew you’d be scared, why did you want to come up here at all?”

“Same as everyone else,” Crowley replied, never taking his eyes off the night sky. “I wanted to see the view, and if I didn’t do it, then I’ll never get to.”

“So that’s how you do it with all your fears, then? You just… shove your way past them and don’t let them stop you anyway? Even though you’re scared of falling?”

“Isn’t that how we should all deal with them? Isn’t that just what life is?”

“No.” Aziraphale sounded breathless, and when Crowley glanced back, his lips were quivering. “At least, that’s not what I’ve been doing. I’ve always just carved myself into my space, made environments that catered just to me, and what would make me comfortable. And then you… you just…! You—”

“Aziraphale?”  Worry crept up on him as he reached out for Aziraphale’s arm. 

“The boy I was telling you about earlier…” Aziraphale met his gaze for only a second, wide-eyed and frightened before he glanced away. “It’s you, Crowley.”

Crowley’s entire world stutter-stopped so abruptly on its axis, he could almost swear he heard a record scratch sound in the distance. “I’m… what?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks went a dark shade. “If you can be brave, then so can I. So there. The secret is out — decades too late, I might add, but it’s out in the open nonetheless.”

Crowley felt like the floor had been swept from under his feet, and it was incredibly warm all of a sudden. He tugged at his collar, pressing his lips into a tight line as he made ridiculous garbling noises. “A-ahhh… is that so?”

“Please just talk like a normal human being. I didn’t say that to make things awkward.”

“Nrrrffngghh mkay.”

“Stop it! Oh, this is going just about as well as I expected. Never mind that!”

“No, nonono, angel…” Before he could stop himself, he had both of Aziraphale’s hands cradled in his, and he was placating a severely pouting angel with a pleading look and thumbs sweeping over his knuckles. “Would you look at me, please?”

“No,” he said stubbornly.

“Why not?”

“Because this is humiliating!”

“It’s not.” He squeezed Aziraphale’s hands. “Tell you what, as a thank you for trusting me with that, I’ll let you know one of my secrets too.”

“It would have to be twice as humiliating and demeaning as the one I just told you.”

Crowley laughed. “Oh yeah. More than that, even.” He detected a spark of curiosity floating in Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“Well then… I can be persuaded.”

“Alright. My secret is…” Crowley made a show of taking in a deep breath in preparation, followed by a loud exhale. “I had a crush on you too.”

Rather than being astonished, Aziraphale narrowed his gaze suspiciously and did not look the least bit amused. “You promised you would tell me a real secret!”

“It is a real secret! Aziraphale…” Crowley fought his retreating hands with hard resistance, gripping securely to keep them in his hold. “I did. I had a humiliating, utterly demeaning crush on you when we were kids.”

“You didn’t even remember who I was this morning!”

“I was trying to be cool!” Crowley groaned, mentally kicking himself for his previous conduct. If he’d known that he would be spending the rest of the day with Aziraphale… “I saw you during the opening ceremony and I recognised you immediately then.”

“You’re telling me that you saw me three days ago—”

“I wanted to try and talk to you! But I couldn’t find the right time, okay? And… and I was worried you wouldn’t remember me. I mean, we barely talked at all back in Tadfield. It was the likely outcome.” Crowley was rambling now, but he couldn’t stop even if he tried. “So I sort of just… saw you from afar over the next few days, settled on just that. It was nice to see that you were doing well, you know? I thought I could just leave it at that. But then earlier today I realised this was the last day, as in my last chance to talk to you, and I did that whole back and forth thing again and ultimately, I decided to just do it and ask to borrow your pen. I didn’t think you’d recognise me, all I knew was it was just nice to hear your voice again.”

Throughout his speech, Aziraphale had shifted closer, looking up at Crowley with a stunned expression.

“You could’ve just talked to me.”

Crowley was far too stunned by the way his long lashes framed the blue-grey eyes that peered up at him to speak properly. “M’sorry I lied to you.”

“...Crowley, may I…?”

“Hmm?”

Aziraphale moved even closer, eyes half-shut, his breath hot on Crowley’s mouth. 

Crowley hardly knew where he was anymore. Hundreds of metres high in the air, probably. It didn’t matter. Aziraphale was warm and he smelled so good, and his enticingly plump lips were drifting closer… 

“My dear,” Aziraphale murmured soothingly, “don’t look down, please.”

Which unfortunately, given the maximum extent of Crowley’s current brain capacity, only caused him to do just that.

Right beneath his and Aziraphale’s feet was a large square pane of glass embedded into the floor, framed in black metal, giving way to an entire patch of the cityscape hundreds of metres below. 

“FUCK!”

Crowley dragged his heavy feet several steps back, heaving and shaking, all the blood rushing in his body and pumping him hard with adrenaline. 

Around a dozen heads turned to look at them, evidently reacting to Crowley’s booming voice that had broken the calm of the all too silent hall. A few steps away, Aziraphale stood, shocked and panicking. 

“Erm…” He bowed his head and spoke solemnly. “ Shitsurei shimashita.”

*

They didn’t stay much longer in the gallery after that, but they did manage to get somewhat near to closing time. At the very least, the lift they rode on the way down was nowhere near as packed as it had been when they were going up. But much to his own annoyance, Crowley’s internal mortification had yet to fade.

He was afraid to look at Aziraphale. Afraid of seeing the disappointment that he no doubt felt. Sure, he was going to be all nice about it. All Don’t worry about it, my dear, because that was just the kind of person Aziraphale was, but Aziraphale being a literal angel didn’t make Crowley any less horrible as a person. 

“That sure was something,” Aziraphale said as they went out the main doors and stepped back out into the night. 

“You could say that.” Crowley shifted awkwardly on his feet. “I’m sorry about the… yeah, I ruined that.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

It was just what Crowley had expected him to say, but just because he’d said it didn’t mean it was true. A million questions burnt in the back of Crowley’s mind. What do you really want to tell me? How are you feeling right now? Back there… when we were talking, you were gonna kiss me, weren’t you? And I ruined that. I ruined everything.

The blush and violets washed over Aziraphale completely now, painting him a much softer hue as he gazed up at the tower lights with a lingering smile on his beautiful face.

“Everything okay there?” Crowley asked him.

“Yes.” Aziraphale kept staring upwards as he spoke. “Actually I… want to thank you for convincing me that we go up there. I never would’ve done it otherwise.”

A small flash of pride swelled in Crowley’s chest. “Really?”

“Really. I think I still prefer how it looks from outside, but at least now I know why.”

Without much thinking, Crowley took his phone out of his pocket. A few frustrating swipes got him to bite off one of his gloves so he could unlock his screen, and with the leather still clenched between his teeth, he turned on the camera and snapped a photo.

Aziraphale hastily turned towards him as the shutter sound went off, his cheeks dusting pink when he realised what Crowley had just done. “Did you just take a photo of me?”

Crowley grinned sheepishly, turning his phone screen for him to see. “Sorry. I’ll delete it if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.” Aziraphale gave him a small smile. “Only I have to wonder why now. You didn’t even take your phone out once when we were in the gallery. I didn’t see you take any photos in any of the places we’ve been to either. If you want to preserve this trip in memory, shouldn’t you be taking pictures of those instead?”

Crowley pondered it for a moment, and he stared up at the tower as well. It was indeed stunning from this view, a structure of criss-crossed steels, embraced by subtly shifting hues of light. The cityscape surrounding them was also a sight to behold, each and every corner new to his eyes, each one highly picturesque indeed . He could do it, of course. Stop for a while, snap a photo. He already had his phone in hand.

He stared at the screen. Aziraphale was a little off-centre in the image, his profile illuminated just so, eyes wide and trained upwards at the sight before him. It made something clench inside Crowley as he switched off his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. 

“But if you think about it, what really makes a place memorable?” Crowley stood beside him, their sides brushing. He could feel Aziraphale gazing at him, hanging onto his every word.

“What?”

“There’re lots of amazing places, this one included. But given a choice between two things, you know? If you’re in a beautiful place with good company, you’re always gonna remember the good company more than the beautiful place.”

“Oh. I guess you’re right.”

“That’s why I took a photo of you instead.” Crowley tried his best to sound nonchalant, though his heart was thumping wildly. “I’m convinced you can make any place look beautiful.” 

For a moment, Aziraphale’s eyes shone with tears, shock written plainly on his features. A hot rush of panic rose up to Crowley’s throat like bile, and he hurried to apologise until he felt Aziraphale’s hand curling over his elbow.

“Crowley?” His fingers drew small, soothing lines over Crowley’s sleeve, back and forth, making him a tiny bit dazed.

“Mmm?”

“You must be cold,” Aziraphale said — no, whispered. He sounded a bit unsure as he peered up at Crowley through his lashes. “Please get yourself a warm drink soon.”

It took all of two seconds for Crowley to catch up on the meaning behind Aziraphale’s words, and once he did, he felt himself blush all the way to the tips of his ears.

Chapter Text

“Do you want to know what just occurred to me?”

“Hm, what?”

“You’ve been asking me about myself the entire night, but we haven’t talked much about you.”

A bit uncertain, Crowley shook his head a few times before settling on an awkward sort of side-shrug — such actions that were just par for the course for him, to be honest. “What’s there to talk about?”

“You.” Aziraphale tugged his elbow closer. “How about you tell me about your first love?”

They were walking aimlessly now, Crowley thought, as they strolled down the pavement at a far too casual pace. The road ahead of them seemed infinite, stretching down to lines of more boxy buildings and warmly lit establishments. 

“It’s not very interesting,” Crowley said dismissively. 

“I beg to differ. And it’s hardly fair. I answered you when you asked.”

“Yeah, but you had a compelling answer. Mine’s very boring. Very typical.” Crowley could tell that he wasn’t being very convincing, so he appended his statement with a heavy sigh. “Fine. The truth is, the thing you said about not being in love? It made me think. And now I’m rethinking all the things I’ve previously believed about relationships.”

Aziraphale turned dismayed. “I’m sorry. That whole thing about not being in love, that’s only for me, you know. It wasn’t supposed to change anything about you and how you see it.”

“Don’t apologise for that. If you see something odd, you should definitely challenge it. Besides, I don’t think this spontaneous little trip would’ve lasted this long if we agreed on every single thing.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “It would certainly have taken away much of your charm.” Growing more serious, he continued. “Then tell me what would have been your answer before you heard my tirade about being in love.”

Crowley debated for a moment on what he should say, but Aziraphale’s earnestness, coupled with his own unrefined skills at self-contemplation, caused him to eventually say: “Her name’s Cara. We met three years ago. She lived next door to the house I was renting.”

“Oh.” A slight furrow appeared between Aziraphale’s feathery brow. “For some reason I would have thought you met your first love when you were younger.”

“You’d think that, and I guess that is how it works for most people. First loves are a bit arbitrary though, don’t you think?”

Aziraphale’s response was to give him a blank stare.

“Ah, right. Never been in love.” Crowley shook his head with a fond grin. “What I mean is, it’s not as fixed as people make it out to be. People like me, I mean, not the sceptics like you. To us, it’s like you meet someone and you think they’re wonderful and that’s it, they’ve completely toppled your world over and you’ve fallen in. And then that ends and it sucks for a while, then you meet someone else and this new person shows you so many things that you never saw or felt with the previous person. And it makes you go ‘was I really in love before?’ And then you realise: I must not have been. Because this? This is what real love is like.”

“And that’s how it felt? With Cara?”

Crowley nodded. “That’s how it was. With her.”

One of Aziraphale’s palms smoothed down his forearm. “And what happened? Did you ask her out, or…?”

“I did.” Crowley choked back on a strain of bitterness rising up his chest. “We dated almost two years, and last week she dumped me.”

Aziraphale went stock still beside him. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Crowley couldn’t resist adding a scoff. “It was long overdue.”

“But she sounds so special to you. You must be heartbroken.”

“I was a little bit, but it’s not a big deal.”

“How can you wave it off just like that? I thought she’s your first love?”

“Guess it softens the blow a bit when you actually see it coming.”

Aziraphale could only blink in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s… well, you know.” Crowley shot him a blank look and said, “I have a shit personality.”

Aziraphale deepened his scowl. “Oh, don’t!”

“It’s true.”

“You do not have a shit personality, Crowley. You are a lovely, funny, and very interesting person.”

The genuinely pained expression on Aziraphale’s face made him pause. He was just so earnest. Always wearing his heart on his sleeve. As though the hurt he felt from hearing Crowley talk himself down was something that actually affected him, and it made Crowley feel somewhat guilty. Still, he was only being honest himself.

“You don’t know that,” Crowley pointed out, keeping his tone level. Because it really wasn’t something he was upset about. It was just something that was. “You’ve known me for a day.”

Aziraphale glared defiantly. “No, I’ve known you since we were children. I’ve known you for decades.”

“But what do you really know about me, hm? We haven’t spent that much time together. Right now I’m your fun old friend who dragged you away from a miserable night abroad to go have an adventure — and that’s amazing. I’m having so much fun. But you don’t know me beyond that. You don’t know that this, what you see before you right now, is as good as it’s gonna get. I’m only gonna be shittier from here.”

Aziraphale worried his lip between his teeth. “I don’t believe that.”

“What’s so hard to believe?”

“I mean, look at you.” Aziraphale gestured vaguely at him from head to toe. “You’re wonderful, and you’re so… well-liked. You walk into a room and you have everyone’s attention. Why would you think of yourself like that?”

“At risk of sounding cliche, getting people’s attention and actually sustaining it are two different things. People hardly ever take the time to get to know me, or… or I must just not be that interesting.”

“I can tell you personally that is not true.”

“And I appreciate that, angel, but at the end of the day, do you really know me?” Crowley paused, a bit for dramatic effect, but also to give Aziraphale a chance to think about it. He took his phone from his pocket and held it out. “See this? I’m like this phone.”

“You are a phone.”

“Ngh. I know it sounds bonkers, but listen. I’m this phone. It’s sleek and shiny and when you first purchase it you think: ‘Ah, well that looks really good’, and for a while it makes you happy. You fiddle with all the settings and every time you see it, it makes you smile. Makes you feel accomplished, and you get to tell other people that you own this phone. But that phase never lasts long, is the problem. Over time it gets glitchy, and it accumulates all these microscratches that — let’s face it, no one ever really notices those. But since you own the phone, you can’t help but see all the minor flaws. And then it’s all you ever see, and then you get to the point where you realise your phone is shit and ugly and it doesn’t make you as happy as it used to, and you don’t know why you even bought it in the first place.”

Only when Crowley ended his rambling did he realise that they’d stopped walking, and that Aziraphale was gaping at him, horror-stricken.

“Crowley,” he said, his voice tight and his eyes glistening. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again. That is completely untrue and you are an absolute idiot.”

Down-trodden, Crowley hung his head low as he tucked his phone away. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“Upsetting me? That’s not what I’m angry about! You are not a phone. You are a human being, and anyone will be lucky to have you.”

“Let’s keep walking, yeah?” Crowley sent him a feeble smile, guiding him forward with a hand on the small of Aziraphale’s back. 

Aziraphale followed reluctantly, though they took only a few steps at a time. 

“What made you think that way?”

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just how it’s always been. How everyone’s always treated me. Just when I start to think I’m making a friend, or that I’m fitting in, once I get comfortable they suddenly pull away. It’s like… They like to look at something pretty, but the minute they see the actual person behind that, they decide that I’m not worth getting to know. That I don’t have any other purpose aside from hanging around and being nice to look at.”

“Crowley…”

“No, let me finish. Sorry, I think I actually need to get this out.” When Aziraphale went silent, his head tipped attentively, he continued, “When I met Cara, I thought… I thought, here’s someone who finally wanted to get to know me. Someone who wouldn’t get tired of me once I got ugly and boring. She was someone who actually lasted, you know? I got my hopes up, and I was scared that losing what I had with her meant that I’d go back to being disposed of again.”

Aziraphale gripped his arm tighter, sending out a small gesture of comfort that worked wonders for Crowley’s frantic mind. He continued. “So I kept her around, because I didn’t want to go back to how it was before I’d met her. But it turns out she was also just keeping me around because I was there. Right next door. And then I switched jobs, moved to London, and I stopped being there, so I guess she also stopped loving me.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Seriously, you have got to stop that. Like I told you, it was always gonna happen.” Crowley shrugged, then laughed somewhat bitterly. “And there’s the story of my first love. I hope you’re happy.”

“As a matter of fact, I am not!” Aziraphale was so stubborn, so defiant. The slight pout to his plump lower lip brought an easy smile to Crowley’s face. “I’m not happy at all. How could you let your first love just ruin you like that?”

“S’not like I have a choice on the matter. And hey, it’s fine, really. It’s the reason why we’re on this trip. It’s why I was brave enough to ask you to come along with me, because you’re leaving in a few hours and we only have one night. And it’s been great so far, yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded. “It really has been wonderful.”

“‘Cause it’s only for one night, and I asked you because I knew I could give you a good time. Because the first night, that exciting first meeting that makes you feel like you’ve the entire world in your hands — that’s what I’m good at. That’s how I make myself useful. If you spend any more time with me, Aziraphale, I’ll wear you out with how annoying I am.” He grinned playfully, but Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood to be amused. 

“You keep saying that, but this entire day all I’ve been thinking is how I can get closer to you.”

“Get as close as you like. I’m an open book, me.” At Aziraphale’s stern frown, he sighed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset, okay?”

For a couple of minutes, they were silent as they walked, and the bridge they’d crossed previously came back into view. Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley’s arm and stopped.

“Thank you for being honest.”

Crowley, lightly puzzled by the sudden remark, waved dismissively. “It’s no big deal. You were honest with me too, so it’s only fair.”

“Yes, it is much appreciated, however I refuse to accept that answer.”

Crowley stared at him from the tops of his shades. “You refuse?”

“That’s right. I find the story of your first love to be entirely unacceptable. Therefore, I urge you to choose another one.”

Crowley barked out in laughter. “Angel, are you serious?”

“Perfectly.” It showed on his face too. Not even so much as a muscle twitch on his cheek whilst Crowley let out the full range of his mirth. He waited for Crowley’s laughter to die down, then spoke calmly. “I wouldn’t know much about these things since I don’t experience love the same way you do, but you told me just now that first loves are arbitrary. That they aren’t as fixed as people say they are. So, if this first love doesn’t bring you joy, choose another one.”

Crowley fell silent as he pondered it. “Choose how?”

“I don’t know! It just feels like, if you’re going to have a first love, it might as well be someone who brings you only good memories, not something like what this Cara person did to you.” He turned his pleading gaze up at Crowley and said, “You can choose me.”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what do you…”

“It isn’t that complicated!” His cheeks went a flattering shade of pink again, and Crowley knew that despite his wording, it was taking a considerable amount of courage for Aziraphale to utter his words. “From now on, whenever someone asks you about your first love, don’t give that answer you told me just now. Instead, say ‘ his name is Aziraphale and we went to school together’. And when they ask for more details, you’ll only have good things to say, because I never broke your heart. I never made you believe that I was after you for more than just your looks. We never had any unpleasant fights, and your only regret is that you wish we got to talk more. And isn’t that a much better way of going about it?”

For a while, Crowley simply stared at him as something warm and fierce gripped his chest. He was stunned, on multiple levels, rendered breathless by the angel before him. The angel who, even now, had yet to let go of his arm.

“You… want that?” 

Aziraphale’s ensuing smile was so bright and mesmerising. “Why do you look so surprised? It would be an honour, I’m sure.”

Crowley pressed his palm to his mouth to cover up his frightfully unattractive wheeze, and soon enough they were both smiling.

“That sounds really nice. I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Oh.” The smile withered from Aziraphale’s face. He managed to recover quickly, but the light in his eyes had dimmed. “No, of course. Do take some time to think it through, and you’re most certainly not obliged to—” 

“Alright, I’ve done it.” He turned to face Aziraphale, leaning in until the latter had no way of evading his gaze. The need to reach out, to touch, so strongly overtook him, and he laid a hand over Aziraphale’s on the crook of his elbow, trying to keep him close. 

Aziraphale turned a smidge nervous. “A-already?”

“After much careful deliberation, I’ve decided. From now on, you, Aziraphale Fell, are my first love. No one else.”

The faint flush over his ample cheeks spread wider on Aziraphale’s face. Crowley could see the moment he swallowed thickly, the way that it created shifting shadows under his chin. They were so close that Crowley longed to chase the warmth of him, to sink into him in the same way other people went about coming to their homes. Even now, as he stood on unfamiliar terrain, having been shuttled off to another continent where speech and signs eluded him, it felt like he was right at home. 

He didn’t know that it was possible to feel like this. To feel so alive and so understood at the same time. At his current age, Crowley thought he’d already seen enough to know what to always expect from other people, but here was Aziraphale — stubborn Aziraphale who stuck to his comfort zones and delighted in what was predictable and had an ever-present knee-jerk reaction to change — shaking the foundations of all he’d believed. 

One night was all he’d ever thought this trip would be, but for the first time since he’d approached Aziraphale in the conference, he began to wonder what it would be like after the trip. Whether Aziraphale would still like to see him elsewhere. If they could do these same things in St. James’s Park, feeding ducks in the summer. If Crowley could invite him over to his flat for a nightcap. If they could keep having this conversation everywhere, for as long as it could possibly last.

Aziraphale’s beam turned shy, but no less beautiful. It tugged at long untouched strings in Crowley’s heart. 

“Ah, good. Thank you,” he said, ducking his chin until his forehead brushed Crowley’s shoulder.

A reply had formed in Crowley’s mind, only for it to get held back on his tongue. He squinted against a beam of light that suddenly washed over his face now that Aziraphale wasn’t blocking his view, and his pulse leapt up to his throat, fueled by a sudden burst of determination.

Standing a short distance away behind Aziraphale’s back was a row of vending machines.

Crowley pulled himself away from Aziraphale’s hold, one hand reaching for the loose change he carried in his coat pocket.

“Still have an attempt left, don’t I?” He glanced back at Aziraphale, smirking. 

Aziraphale went wide-eyed, staring intently at him. “Only one left,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Why do you look so worried, angel?” He ran his gaze shamelessly over Aziraphale’s face, lingering on his full lips, chapped and parted slightly.

“I’m not worried,” he said, feigned courage colouring his tone. “Are you worried?”

“A little.”

He turned back to the machine, and it was utterly ridiculous how hard his heart pounded as he inserted his coins into the slot. He scanned the lines of drinks. The selection wasn’t as varied as the previous ones had been, and Crowley took some consolation out of the fact that probably meant there was less chance that he would get this wrong.

“Wait.” At Aziraphale’s voice, Crowley paused. He stepped aside, leaning slightly over Crowley to get a view of the machine. “Yes, this one has warm drinks.”

Crowley laughed breathlessly. “You sure you’re not having me on?”

“I’m telling the truth, I promise.” Aziraphale took a step back to give him some space. “You can do it. Just look closely.”

Crowley squared his shoulders. All he had to do was pick one, right? It shouldn’t be too hard. And so far, luck had been on his side.

He pressed a button.

The drink tumbled all the way down, settling into the lower compartment with a definitive sound. Through the slight prickling at the back of his neck, he could feel Aziraphale staring at him. This had to be it. He bent down, pulled off his glove and reached inside.

Crowley straightened up, drilling holes into the bottle with his eyes as he held it in his palm.

It was dreadfully cold.

“Bugger.” He chuckled mirthlessly, unsure how best to react, how to make light of the situation in a way that didn’t make it seem like he’d been hoping much. “I’m not very good at this, am I?”

He turned to face Aziraphale, ready to admit defeat, but then a hand closed around his on the drink. He gasped, and then Aziraphale had an arm around his neck and pressed his lips to Crowley’s own.

A surprised noise rose from the back of his throat, muffled by Aziraphale’s cheek on the side of his nose. His arm was a steady weight around Crowley’s shoulders, keeping him close by even as he slowly broke off the chaste kiss.

His eyes slid open, though he didn’t remember having closed them. He mumbled dazedly “...Angel?” 

“Yes?”

“I failed.”

“I know,” he said, and despite the boldness of his previous action he still managed to sound shy. “You deserve a kiss anyway.”

Crowley looked away, pouting petulantly with his heel rooted to the ground. “No I don’t.”

Rather than responding, a soft hand fumbled its way up to Crowely’s cheek, gently curling over his jaw to guide him back into the heat of Aziraphale’s waiting mouth.

Though he was still in a state of shock, Crowley had no choice but to lean into it, try to give as much as he got. Their lips parted with a soft sound, some moments later.

“That’s okay,” Aziraphale murmured, nuzzling his nose before giving him another careful peck. “I can keep you warm, if… if you like.”

In his current state, all Crowley could do was nod once and chase his mouth. He gave the most cherishing kisses he could manage. The softest ones, fleeting swipes and playful nips. He let butterflies surge into his stomach, allowed himself to feel all of it. He felt decades younger like this, having his first kiss with his first love.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, tucked in the shadows of one nook at the side of a highway, silently exchanging fluttering kisses. Aziraphale had both arms around his neck now, like he was attempting to smother him with warmth. Crowley was content to let him. He wanted to be surrounded by Aziraphale.

At length, when Aziraphale took a step back and released him, muscle memory took over, allowing their hands to weave in the dark. Crowley probably had a dopey look stuck on his face, but that was alright. Aziraphale looked flushed, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every now and then. Crowley could still taste him in his mouth, and he rather liked that. He liked that a lot, to be honest.

“Erm,” Crowley said as they began to walk on. “T-thanks.”

“Not at all,” replied Aziraphale primly. “I should be the one thanking you, I think.”

“Was it nice for you too?”

“I rather think it was.” He could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice. “That is to say, I hope it was very nice.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand and shifted a tiny bit closer.

“I don’t care what you say. You’re wonderful. And if you think my opinion of you will change if I spend more time with you, well, you’re wrong. Because I’m learning more things about you right now, and I like what I see.”

Crowley turned to look at him and said, “I like what I see too.”

It was adorable how easily flustered Aziraphale still was despite the fact that they’d just been kissing a few minutes ago. He was so responsive, and it made Crowley wonder what other things he could make Aziraphale do. If he could get him to smile and laugh more, if he could tease him until he huffed in annoyance and Crowley could sooth his frown away with a lingering kiss that made him swoon. If he could lay Aziraphale out on the sheets and pull a range of noises previously unheard out of him. It was so alarmingly easy to envision a future with him, a stretch of indefinite time rolling out from the several hours they’d spent together so far. It kind of scared him a little, if he were being honest. 

Not that he’d ever been good at letting fear stop him from doing much.

“Where do we go now, by the way?” 

The answer became clear when, as if on cue, a low growl came from Aziraphale’s stomach.

“Oh, dear,” he muttered, clutching his belly as though that would in any way get it to calm down. “We haven’t eaten anything since we left the conference.”

“Guess it’s late dinner, then,” Crowley said. “I’ll let you take the lead on this one. You probably know all the good restaurants around here.”

Chapter Text

“I know it’s around here somewhere… let’s see…” 

“Angel, we’ve been around this block three times over. I don’t think it’s here.”

“It’s a little bit hidden, we must’ve walked past it.”

“It’s almost an hour to midnight. Even if it was here, it’s probably closed by now. Let’s just look someplace else.”

After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest and sighed in defeat. He had hoped to introduce Crowley to one of his favourite spots for ramen and gyoza, but truthfully he had never been out in the streets this late at night, and it was evident now more than ever that this really was the old-fashioned side of Tokyo. Hardly any store that he saw remained open at this hour.

“I must say, I’m a little disappointed,” he said as Crowley went over to wrap an arm around his shoulders, guiding him out of the narrow alley and back onto the main road. He tucked himself closer to Crowley’s side, chasing warmth. “I was really hoping you’d get to try it.”

“It’s alright. For what it’s worth, I’m not much of a foodie anyway.” 

“But still—”

“It’s fine. And I managed to survive entirely on konbini meals so far.”

Aziraphale blinked at him in shock. “You’ve been eating only konbini food?”

“Well, that and the food they served at the conference — which was surprisingly good, actually.”

“But what about all the other fine things? Udon, sushi, sukiyaki…? Isn’t that supposed to be a company expense?”

In response, Crowley gave an amused snort. “Company expense, hah. We at Nine Circles aren’t like you fancy folks. We make do with our food allowance — which is basically nothing.”

Aziraphale gasped in horror. “What a tragedy!”

“Have I ever mentioned how cute you are?” A look of intense fondness crossed his face for a moment that made something flutter low in Aziraphale’s stomach. “Like I said, it’s fine. I don’t eat much.”

“But this is supposed to be your chance to try the local cuisine. You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” Guilt bore down on him quickly. If only he’d thought of going for dinner earlier, if they hadn’t wasted all that precious time… 

Crowley’s hands on either side of his face put his spiralling to an abrupt halt. “Angel.” Aziraphale was helpless not to follow as Crowley pulled him in for a long kiss. “It’s.” Another kiss. “Fine.”

As nice as that was, Aziraphale knew it wasn’t fine. After everything that Crowley had done for him today, getting some real food in him would’ve been the least he could do in return. He clutched Crowley’s wrist, holding it close while he pressed his lips to the middle of Crowley’s gloved palm and nuzzled it. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the soft leather. “There must be somewhere still open. We could take a cab, go somewhere more central.”

“We could, but I don’t think your empty stomach will agree with that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can wait a few minutes.”

“Do you trust me?”

Aziraphale returned his gaze. “Ordinarily I’d say yes, but this is food we’re talking about. It’s special to me.”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth tugged high in his amusement, and Aziraphale tried hard not to swoon at how attractive he was. Goodness. He could hardly believe he’d just been kissing this man. How did he manage to get so lucky?

“And I respect that, but right now, we have more pressing matters.”

Aziraphale conceded. Reluctantly. “Where are you taking me?”

Crowley leaned in to steal another kiss from his mouth. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

He hesitated for a moment. “...Fine.”

Crowley took his hand to drag him away, and Aziraphale followed along — at least, right up until he realised that Crowley was taking him to a brightly-lit Family Mart, and a severe pang of regret shot up his veins.

*

Aziraphale was still quite a bit put out by the time Crowley occupied the swivel stool next to his own, placing a plastic-packaged rice meal in front of him. As much as he tried to keep an open mind, Aziraphale couldn’t help giving the katsudon a suspicious glare. It wasn’t that it looked awful. As a matter of fact, the food elements had been arranged well — symmetrical and brightly coloured. It did look appetising, but Aziraphale still lamented the fact that they could have been having real, proper food right now. He could have been having it with Crowley.

“Oi.” Crowley hooked a finger under his chin, making him watch as he happily pulled out what looked like chicken skewers from a square paper wrap. He gave a roguish grin, light and playful. 

Aziraphale gave him a smile back. 

The meal, as it turned out, wasn’t quite as bad as he’d feared. Though he couldn’t help wondering if it had something more to do with Crowley, who kept the mood up as they ate, and waited patiently for Aziraphale even though he’d finished much earlier. 

He was content to listen to Crowley as he took his final bites, entranced with the way Crowley moved and with the words that he said — simple but profound, much like the rest of him.

Aziraphale ate all his food, and honestly speaking, it was the best tasting meal he’d had this entire trip.

*

They must both know how late it already was. They must be aware of how the cold had begun to seep into their bones. And above all, they knew that Crowley’s hotel was a stone’s throw away, and that Aziraphale could easily get a taxi to his. Yet somehow they ended up in a park, walking along a narrow footpath that traced one side of the nearby river. Fingers entwined, loftily swaying in the space between them. A breeze blew past and Aziraphale huddled close for a bit of warmth, but in truth the cold hardly felt like anything to him. 

The city lights hanging in the distance had dimmed to a quiet lull. At first the two of them were completely silent, content to watch the slow-moving waters roll on the river’s surface. Gradually, though, words did find them, rolling off their tongues just as easily as they had the entire day. 

“You already had a crush on me then?” Crowley asked in disbelief when Aziraphale brought up one passing incident from their schooling days. “Why didn’t you come and talk to me?”

“I told you, it felt ridiculous to do so. We weren’t even friends. I didn’t know if you knew my name, or…”

“Of course I knew your name. Catching a glimpse of you from afar was enough to make my entire day.”

Aziraphale ducked his chin. “I-I didn’t know. You always seemed preoccupied. I thought it would be unwelcome.”

“I would’ve been thrilled.”

“Then why didn’t you come to talk to me?”

“I…” Crowley faltered. “I should’ve, yeah. It’s something I’ve been asking myself repeatedly for the past two decades.”

“We’re both at fault, I think.” Aziraphale took hold of Crowley’s arm and pulled himself closer.

“It sucks, though. Now that I know you liked me too, I can’t help replaying it all in my head. Everything that could’ve happened if I’d just gone up and talked to you.”

“There’s no use thinking about that. It’s all in the past.”

“But it’s such a huge thing. Angel, can’t you see it? What if we had dated back then? What would we be doing right now?”

“Truthfully?” The stillness of their surroundings made it much easier for Aziraphale to think deeply. “I don’t think we would have lasted.”

Crowley stopped walking, giving him an incredulous stare. “Why would you say that?”

“Don’t look so upset, dear. It’s not… not you.”

“Great. The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. Didn’t know retroactive breakups are a thing now, but I’d thank you to spare me the heartbreak when I just got dumped last week.”

“Crowley!” He burst into a fit of involuntary laughter, eliciting an amused twinge from Crowley’s lips, which the redhead was then careful to school back into a pout. Still laughing, Aziraphale leaned up to satisfy him with a kiss on the cheek.

Crowley’s thumb swept over the back of his hand. “Your whole resolution not to fall in love, tell me more about it.”

“It isn’t a resolution. More of an observation, really.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand in return. “If we’d dated back when we were fifteen, I probably would’ve broken it off when I went to uni.”

A sharp dash of guilt went through him when Crowley’s face fell, and Aziraphale hugged his arm tighter and gave his hand another comforting squeeze in some small attempt to console.

“What happened when you went to uni?” Crowley asked. “Why did you break up with me?”

The way he posited the question, as though they were talking of something that actually happened rather than just pitching hypotheticals, struck Aziraphale with its vulnerability. It was something that he could not imagine the Crowley from twelve hours ago saying. As though the time they’d spent had somehow stripped them both bare.

“Well, that was around when my parents separated,” Aziraphale said. “I’m not sure if you remember this, but that was when our house got sold. I haven’t been to Tadfield since then.”

“I did hear about it, yeah. Didn’t know it was because of your parents, though. M’sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s like you said, it softens the blow when you already knew it was coming.” Aziraphale smiled ruefully. “It wasn’t something that just sprung up on me. In a way, I always knew, but it sort of triggered something. It was when I realised that I haven’t actually seen one happy couple.”

“What’re you talking about? I know humanity’s a bit shit overall, but there’s tons of happy couples everywhere. Old, besotted folks who’ve been married for years and years.”

“Yes, I suppose they must be out there, but there just aren’t any around me.” Aziraphale chewed on his lip, thinking deeply on his next words, but was interrupted when Crowley came closer and stole a kiss, gently coaxing his lower lip out of his mouth. Aziraphale sighed happily into it, his heart threatening to burst in his chest.

Crowley grinned against his lips. “So, just like that you decided, ‘no love for me then’?”

“Not exactly. And it’s not that I don’t think the concept is wonderful, because it is. Being in love is so often a positive feeling, I won’t begrudge it of anyone. But to me, personally, I just don’t see it as anything more than an illusion. A comfort. Attraction is a thing, yes. Compatibility is also a thing, of course. Love, in all its forms, is always a good thing, but being in love…”

“You don’t believe it?”

“I don’t see it,” Aziraphale said. “You look at those old, besotted couples and see two people in love. I look at them and see two people who chose to stay together. Who made that choice over and over, and until now are still making that choice.”

“The choice to stay with each other?”

Aziraphale nodded. “What I like to believe is that we aren’t slaves to our feelings. We get to choose our own happiness. And if you find that happiness in a person and you choose that person, and that person chooses you in return… that’s even more magical than being in love, I think.”

They went quiet for a short while, pacing slowly on the footpath until Crowley broke the silence.

“It is more magical.”

Aziraphale leaned his cheek on Crowley’s shoulder in wordless gratitude. “I’d like to try it, though.”

“Try what?”

“Being in love.” It sounded so ridiculous that he had to stop himself to laugh, muffling the sounds in the fabric of Crowley’s coat. “I want to know what’s so special about it. I want to feel what you feel.”

“You can always choose.”

Aziraphale lifted his head from Crowley’s shoulder. “Choose what?”

“Choose to fall in love. That’s what you told me, right?” At Aziraphale’s enduring confusion, he continued. “If you were to fall in love with anyone at all, how do you think it would go?”

“I’m not sure…” 

“Take your time to think, angel.”

“To be honest, it’s difficult for me to imagine because… well, I like being alone.” Aziraphale chose his words carefully, feeling them form on his tongue before voicing them, and he could see that he had Crowley’s full attention. “Even though I don’t have many friends, and the only plans I have for the holidays is to go see my mum in Wales, and I live a slow, dull life with little variety, I know I’ll always be content. So, in a way, anyone I’ll fall in love with would have to compete with myself. Because if I don’t think they’re worth leaving my routines for, then I would rather just be alone.”

“Let me see if I understood this correctly,” Crowley said. “For you to fall in love with someone, you’d need to find them worthy enough that you’d prefer their company over being alone.”

“That’s the gist of it.” Glancing briefly down at his feet, he added quickly, “So I guess it’s also a matter of, I just haven’t found someone I can connect with to that extent.”

“Wanna know something interesting?”

“What’s on your mind, my dear?”

“I think you liked talking to me on the bus.” A smirk played on Crowley’s lips as he glanced at Aziraphale. “And I think you weren’t expecting that. And when we were at the station and I asked you to spend this evening with me, you could have just gone back to your hotel, where you knew you’d be alone. But instead, you said yes to me. You chose my company over being on your own and I think, angel — and this isn’t me getting cocky, I’m just repeating what you said — that means you’re in love with me.”

Aziraphale’s mouth hung open, and he stared before sputtering indignantly. “W-what?!”

A solemn slow nod was Crowley’s response. “I’m afraid so. You are officially in love now. At least for tonight you are.”

It took a few seconds for the words to catch up with Aziraphale, and then he laughed the hardest he’d laughed all day. His belly went tight, and his cheeks were positively aching. Beside him, Crowley’s shoulders shook lightly, and he had to agree. At the moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be in, no one else he’d rather be with. And this must be it, the feeling they all raved about.

He gazed up steadily at Crowley once more. “Oh, dear. I do believe you’re right.” His voice was almost down to a mere whisper. “I am quite madly in love with you. Well, for tonight I am.”

Crowley bit his lip to hold back his laughter. “Angel, you’ve no idea how long I waited to hear you say that. Ever since I realised you were my first love, so about—” he paused to check the watch on his phone “—three hours.”

Aziraphale pressed himself closer to Crowley’s side. “And was it worth the wait?”

“Worth every second.” 

They met each other halfway this time, lingering on the feel of each other’s soft mouths, on the thrill that the small act sent down to each of Aziraphale’s limbs. He hummed happily into it, swaying into Crowley until the latter was forced to steady him with a hand gripping his upper arm. A breath of laughter came from Crowley’s parted lips, but then he tilted his head and dove back in, and the kiss turned into something else entirely. Something more urgent, with Aziraphale’s hand clawing into Crowley’s coat, their linked fingers suddenly not enough to satisfy the touch that they sought.

Aziraphale strode forward, backing Crowley into the nearby stone wall without breaking the kiss, and his arms found their way around his shoulders. Crowley gasped as his back made contact with the wall, and he took it as an opportunity to further explore Crowley’s mouth with his tongue. His breaths were heavy and stuttering, desperate for a certain kind of heat he knew not how to find, and he only found reprieve when he felt Crowley’s hands sneaking inside his coat, sliding over the sides of his belly before settling on his waist.

It felt like someone had turned all the clocks again, like the little bubble of stillness and perfection they’d been previously enjoying was coming to an end. And he knew in reality that it was. This was only ever meant to last one night, and all nights, however great and long they may have been, eventually met their end. Sooner or later, daybreak would come.

He clung more tightly to Crowley. He didn’t know what he wanted exactly, couldn’t find the right words to say. So instead, he poured himself into the kiss, each languid stroke and swipe a savoured movement being written in his memory.

“Crowley,” he mumbled over the eager mouth moving with his own. “Mmm…”

One hand reached up to caress Aziraphale’s cheek, the other sliding down past his hip, and it was just about enough to send him spiralling. “You taste good, angel,” Crowley whispered hoarsely, moving to nip at his chin, leaving a trail of wet kisses cooling fast on his skin. A muffled moan ripped from Aziraphale’s throat, speedily covered by his own hand, and he felt Crowley’s silent chuckle as a gust of air over his ear. “I do like the sound of that.”

The hand on his hip went further down, sliding back briefly to get an artful squeeze of his rump before moving to grab his thigh and hitching it around Crowley’s waist.

“Do you think,” Aziraphale said, breathless as Crowley placed a line of wet kisses below his ear, “that what we’re doing is still legal?”

“Depends,” Crowley growled into his neck, just above his scarf. “If you aren’t sure, we can always make ourselves more indecent.”

The wryness in his tone was a wakeup call for Aziraphale to pull himself away and look hastily around. The path on either side was deserted, but he was still flushed and mortified at the idea of anyone finding them in this state.

Ever so casually, Crowley pushed himself off the wall, ruffling his hair and straightening his coat in a couple of smooth motions. He was back to his usual charming appearance in a jiffy — if only slightly dishevelled. Meanwhile Aziraphale struggled with getting his cheeks to cool down, his scarf skewed over his shoulder from Crowley’s previous efforts to bare more skin for him to mouth at.

“I, ah, believe we got carried away.”

Crowley sauntered over to his side and untucked the tip of Aziraphale’s collar that had folded in. “Won’t hear me complaining.”

“But it’s getting quite cold, isn’t it? We shouldn’t stay out for much longer.”

The statement was an unsubtle jab through the veil of their dreamlike adventure, an indelicate reminder that this little tryst was fast coming to an end, and there was no way for them to stretch it out for much longer. Crowley turned grave, and Aziraphale knew that they were both aware of what neither of them wanted to acknowledge: That it was time for them to part ways. Time to go back to their respective sides.

“Sure, yeah,” Crowley said weakly. “Will you be okay to head back?”

“Yes, I will,” he replied with a smile. It felt like such a small, ridiculously inadequate consolation for all that Crowley had done for him. “There’s just one thing I want to ask… if it’s alright with you.”

“Anything, angel.”

“Will you take off your sunglasses? Just for a bit?”

It seemed like Crowley hadn’t been expecting the request at all. He scoffed, plucking his shades off by its right arm. “For the record, I don’t do this for just anyone. But you’re special, so here.”

He pulled off the lenses, and golden brown eyes stared back at Aziraphale, filled to the brim with emotion. 

“Oh, you’re beautiful.” Aziraphale pressed a palm to his cheek and kissed his mouth once, then his cheek, softly murmuring, “My stunning little schemer.”

A faint sound rose from Crowley’s throat and his arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s torso. His steady weight made Aziraphale feel like he was something precious, merely because he was something Crowley didn’t want to let go of. And for now, so long as the night was still, immovable in its darkness, they could pretend this still had a bit more time. They could keep hanging on.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was almost disappointed when a taxi instantly became available, rolling to a stop in front of them and releasing the door from its frame. He turned to face Crowley, who had one hand on the door, the other gesturing for him to go inside.

“Thanks for this, angel,” he said, though now that he wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore, Aziraphale could see when his smiles did not reach his eyes. “T’was a blast.”

Aziraphale glanced worriedly between him and the cab, gathering courage. “Listen. I think if we head downtown there should be some coffee shops still open?”

Crowley stared at him, probably in both surprise and weariness from the day’s activities. 

“No, I’m sorry. Forget that.” Aziraphale waved a hand in the air, tearing his gaze away to get inside the cab. He hated how hopeful he’d sounded. It was foolish of him to think that Crowley would still want to spend more time with him. 

He went inside, settling himself into the far corner. He was just about to speak with the driver when a rustling sound caused him to look at his side, where Crowley had clambered onto the seat next to him.

“Right, where to?” His fingers were hooked on the door’s armrest.

“Stop!” Aziraphale placed a hand on his arm and Crowley froze, eyebrows raised, evidently confused and turning panicked.

“Angel, I’m sorry. I-I understand if you don’t want me to come along, I—” He was cut off by a soft thud when the door swung shut behind him, and he leapt an inch off his seat.

Aziraphale shot him a wide-eyed stare. “I was just going to tell you to not close the door.”

“Automatic cab doors.” Crowley nodded once, gaze trained at the glass. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

*

They ended up in a 24-hour coffee shop somewhere in the outskirts of Shibuya, nursing mugs of hot beverage in their hands. The plush seats and golden lights made for the perfect atmosphere for a quiet talk. That in itself was a miracle to Crowley. He didn’t think he would ever meet another person whom he could talk to for this long without getting tired. How was it even possible that he and Aziraphale hadn’t already exhausted every conversational topic under the sun?

But it was only a matter of time until the day’s events caught up to the limitations of their bodies. It was well into the early hours of dawn, and unfortunately neither of them was as young and sprightly as they used to be. The warmth of the coffee shop and the faint jazz music playing from the speakers lulled them to find rest, and soon their voices turned into sleepy mumbles. Aziraphale’s head tumbled onto Crowley’s shoulder, and Crowley’s own eyes were drifting shut…

*

Crowley woke up to a mouthful of soft white curls and his phone buzzing on his lap. He blinked away the grogginess, arching his spine to rid it of some of the stiffness. Aziraphale was still asleep on his shoulder, and somehow they’d ended up holding hands in their sleep.

Groaning, Crowley used his free hand to reach for his phone. Someone had sent a photo to the office group chat. It looked like his coworkers had just come back from a full night of heavy drinking and karaoke, and the photo had a disgruntled, half-naked Ligur screaming his soul into a glittery microphone. 

And to think, he’d been so close to doing all that instead . Luck had been on his side, it turned out. Luck had brought an angel to him. An angel who slept soundly by his side as though they’d known each other forever. An angel who held onto his hand even while deep in his slumber.

Crowley swiped a thumb over his knuckles, feeling the soft, plump skin give into his touch. It was their first time getting to hold hands without their gloves on, and, his brain noted with some bitterness, probably the last time too.

He yawned as he swiped away the messaging app from his screen, only to be confronted with the current time. 

“Shit!”

The head of angelic curls began to stir. “Hm…”

“Angel. Angel, wake up. What time’s your flight?”

“Not sure… Should still be in the morning.” Aziraphale sat up and blinked slowly, his lips moving lazily as he spoke. “Why, what time is it?”

“Ten minutes to six.”

Aziraphale went stiff, fumbling over his sleeve to check his wristwatch. “Good lord!” He gripped his head, as though trying to fend off a headache. “I have to go!”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, drink this.” He handed Aziraphale some bottled water, which the latter accepted gratefully. “We’re not that far off from your hotel right now, so calm down. You have time.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I should send a text to Gabriel just to be sure.”

“Go do that. Stay here, fix yourself up for a bit. I’ll go call a cab and you can meet me outside in two minutes.”

Crowley had a moment to feel proud of himself for managing to get a cab. Aziraphale appeared by his side a short while after, and together they climbed into the back seat.

“Keio Praza Hoteru made onegaishimas,” Aziraphale said as soon as they sat down. 

“Angel, wait. We’re forgetting something.”

“What?” Aziraphale snapped, then froze as it occurred to him too. “Our luggage!” 

“Yup.”

“S-sumimasen!” Aziraphale, flustered and probably still half-asleep, gave the instructions for the driver to take them back to the train station.

*

With a bit of rushing on their parts, they managed to make it back to Aziraphale’s hotel in record time — fortunately with all their belongings intact.

The main entrance stood just a few feet away, and a line of foreigners were starting to trickle out on the front so they could wait for the bus. With each step, it became clearer that it was high time that Crowley said goodbye. But a niggling in the back of his mind remained, still unable to bring himself to actually do it. 

“Gabriel says I should just meet them in the hotel lobby,” Aziraphale said as he read a new message from his phone. 

“Give me five minutes,” Crowley said.

“What for?”

In response, Crowley waved a hand over at the side, where two vending machines stood tall. “For that.”

Aziraphale’s lips curled into a resigned grin. “You’re still not giving up? You haven’t got any attempts left.”

“Try to see if that’ll stop me.” Dropping his bags on the pavement, Crowley sauntered over to the vending machine and inserted his coins in the slot.

A low thrum of excitement filled his veins as he scanned the rows of drinks — six in all. This machine had quite a bit of variety, but he didn’t let that deter him. What was it Aziraphale had told him again? Look closely.

With renewed determination, his eyes flitted over the drink labels, settling on a space just below each drink that had a word written on them. He couldn’t read what was written, of course, but what would he see if he looked closely?

And there it was: Blue. The word was encased in a bubble of dark blue. He moved onto the next one, and there it was again. The same word. The same colour. He moved further down, skimming over each drink until he saw it.

Another word, this time enclosed in red.

He almost gave himself the facepalm of the fucking century. How did it take him this long to figure that out? He had the urge to thank whatever deity out there that he and Aziraphale had already kissed countless times at this point, because Crowley didn’t know if he’d still have that same swagger if their first kiss were to happen in the wake of this humiliating epiphany.

Crowley pressed the button, and soon enough he held the trophy of a warm drink in his hand. He promptly brought it back to Aziraphale. 

“I did it.”

“Oh.” A wide beam stretched over Aziraphale’s stunning face. “So you did! Well done, my dear fellow.”

“I’d like to claim my reward now.”

Aziraphale gave him a confused look. “But the bet is over. You used up all your tries, and we already… well…” He trailed off adorably into a blush.

“Yeah, but without thinking too hard on the mechanics, I still did it. I managed to get myself a hot drink without asking you or anyone else.” Crowley tossed the drink casually in his palm and leaned over Aziraphale. “My reward, then?”

Aziraphale laughed, moving in to kiss him on the cheek. “There.”

Crowley shook his head. “Not that one.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale pecked him on the mouth instead. “There?”

Again, Crowley shook his head. 

“Just what do you want me to do?” Aziraphale said, running out of patience. “I spent the entire night in freezing air, got almost no sleep, and I’m about to get on a most uncomfortable flight back home, so you better—”

“Your phone number,” Crowley said, cutting him off with his curt tone. 

Aziraphale was stunned into silence. “My…”

“So I can call you? I want to call you when I’m back in London.”

“O-oh…”

“And a date.”

“My number and a date? Now you’re really pushing your luck.”

“It’s the least you can do, after all the trouble this thing caused me.” He added a wink, if only to show that he wasn’t actually serious. Still, he couldn’t let on how nervous he was about asking Aziraphale out — properly this time.

“Are you sure?”

Crowley’s confidence faltered. “I just thought… But yeah, it’s fine. We agreed on one night, didn’t we?” Never mind that Crowley had harboured some hopes, and that he’d hoped that Aziraphale would be willing to give him a chance to prove himself useful beyond just their first day together. 

Aziraphale gripped his arm, his cheeks flushed. “There are so many restaurants I want to take you to.”

The words trickled in slowly, forming themselves into a sequence before finally clicking into place in Crowley’s mind. His grin returned, full force. “I’d love to try them out. With you.”

“Yes! Um… Sorry, yes. My answer is—” Aziraphale fumbled with his coat before retrieving his phone. “Here.”

By the time they’d exchanged numbers, Crowley could no longer wipe off the dopey smile on his face.

Aziraphale pouted when he received a new message. “They’re in the lobby now. I’m so sorry. I really have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Crowley said, and this time, it really was. “Take care, angel. See you soon?”

His eyes fluttered for a bit as Aziraphale surged forward to give him a final kiss on the cheek. “Please do call me. I’ll be waiting.”

Still a bit dazed and partly thinking he was dreaming, Crowley nodded and smiled. Aziraphale turned away, his bags in tow, and Crowley watched over him until he disappeared behind the hotel’s front doors.

Sighing, he took another glance at his phone. Even the sight of Aziraphale’s number alone already made him smile. Tokyo just wouldn’t be the same without him. 

He took that thought in stride, though. There were plenty of other places for them to go, so long as Crowley had anything to say about it.

There was a bounce in Crowley’s step all the way until he made it back to his hotel, and when Hastur had the bare minimum decency to ask where he’d gone off to, he could only lazily respond with the truth.

“I had the most amazing night.”

*