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Crowley was on his way over to the bookshop with a bottle of wine and a small box of donuts. This was equal parts usual and unusual. Crowley often went over to the bookshop, on a near-daily basis in fact, ever since the Not-pocolips they practically lived together. Crowley usually went home roughly every day and a half to take care of his plants and enjoy his massive bed and near sinfully comfortable sheets where he would sleep four about twelve to twenty hours before returning to the bookshop. As for the donuts, they weren’t Aziraphale’s style but they were one of the few sweets Crowley didn’t mind, especially because the particular bakery he got these donuts from was in a feud with a local church about a pride flag one of the employees had on their car.
Crowley smiled as he passed someone in a slower car, (slower only because they were driving the speed limit and had a rational concern about their safety) he mericaled a watermelon in their back seat and chuckled at another bit of chaos sowed. He might not work for Hell anymore but he would always be an agent of chaos. He’d been putting watermelons in random places all day, including the walk-in fridge at the bakery, and had no intention of stopping. After all, this was one of his pranks he was sure wouldn’t be able to backfire. Not like gluing coins to the sidewalk, or the M25, or daylight savings. No, this was finally something that would not backfire. It was genius.
As he approached Soho he felt something different in the air, sniffing he slowed slightly, (although still driving well above the speed limit) and shifted in the seat. Flicking out his tongue he tasted to double-check his suspicions, and sure enough, the whole neighborhood smelled like angel. This wasn’t uncommon, an angel did live here after all, but it smelled stronger than usual, almost like Aziraphale had been using large amounts of miracles.
Crowley’s brow furrowed and he floored it (not that it would make a difference if he used the petal or not considering the Bently drove itself but the car sped up to meet his wishes nonetheless). Behind his sunglasses, his slit pupils were blown wide, and even though he didn’t actually need to breathe his corporation hadn’t gotten the memo and was starting to hyperventilate.
Crowley grabbed for his phone, he’d put it on silent when he’d gone to see a movie a few days ago and sure enough, he’d forgotten to turn it back up. Normally his phones were wise enough to know that they would put any call from Aziraphale though, whether they were on silent or not, however lately Crowley had grown less reliant on waiting for Aziraphale to reach out first and had subconsciously stopped worrying about missing a call from the angel.
“Fuck.” Crowley looked at the notification for the voicemail, he was ready to press play when the Bently parked itself outside the bookshop distracting Crowly from the phone.
Crowley’s senses were on high alert. This was definitely where Aziraphale was as if the smell of miracles was anything to go by. Crowley looked and saw the wards Aziraphale had put up, as he leapt out of the car. If his corporation was designed to sweet his palms would be sweating, as he hurried to the door. It looked like Aziraphale was trying to keep someone, specifically an angel or demon, out.
“Aziraphale!” He pounded on the door, he could smell smoke that wasn’t there, he could see the flames that still haunted his dreams. He was shaking in terror and rage at the tough of what could be happening to his- no, the angel. “Aziraphale! Open the bloody door!”
“Go away.” The voice was soft, but firm, sounding rather like Aziraphale was using a miracle to make sure he was heard rather than standing close to the door.
“Angel, what’s wrong?” Crowley stopped pounding, and instead shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“I left you a message on your telephone explaining everything,” Crowley could hear the worry in his voice.
“I saw it but I was already here when I did. Please, angel, tell me you’re okay.” Crowley pretended he couldn’t hear the tremble in his own voice.
Aziraphale made a small sound of distress and sighed, “I was going through a shipment of books I got from an estate and I found one that hadn’t been included in the listing. I opened it up and too late realized it was a cursed artifact, though I think it was made by a human by the way the spell works. While it’s hard to decipher what exactly the spell was trying to do, it was rather water damaged, and whoever wrote it wasn’t very fluid in Latin. But to my best understanding, it was cursed so that whoever opened the book would hurt what they love.”
Crowley, let out a breath he didn’t know his corporation had been holding. “Then what are you doing in there, angel, I’d hate for you to tear up your shop, I know how much it means to you.”
Aziraphale sounded like he was standing closer to the door now, “Really, Crowley, I think you should know that’s the least of my concern.”
Crowley rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah, angelic love for all the humans. Don’t worry angel, I’ll stand out here and make sure you don’t tear any of them apart.” Crowley snickered a little, amused at the image of a demon protecting the humans from the wrath of an angel. He didn’t feel a pang in his chest that the humans were the ones Aziraphale loved. He didn’t. He didn’t. And even if he did it didn’t matter, he’d spent 6,000 years befriending the angel he wasn’t upset that Aziraphale still didn’t love him. He wasn’t. But the lie was bitter and impossible to swallow as he ignored the throb in his chest.
“No, my dear, I’m not worried about them…”
Crowley leaned against the door frame in a way that implied his spine was more suggestion than function, “What, worried you’ll charge up to Heaven and give them a taste of ‘Divine Love’?”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale sounded slightly winded and Crowley was sure the angel had moved to just the other side of the door. “Please, don’t make light of this.”
Crowley raised an eyebrow, and while the angel couldn’t see it after six thousand years Aziraphale knew when Crowley was waiting on him to continue, “Crowley, my dear. You’re the only one in danger.”
Crowly did a double-take so hard he cracked his head against the wall he'd been leaning against, “Ngk!”
“Oh really, you don’t have to make a big deal of it. I’m sure you knew, I know I’m not subtle. Can you please just go away and come back in a couple of days when the spell will wear off. I can feel the spell start to take effect, so please, just leave me alone.” Aziraphale was silent for a beat before continuing, “Haven’t I hurt you enough?”
Crowley tried to reorganize his thoughts. He knew Aziraphale cared about him, he knew that the angel considered them to be friends, the great friends either of them would or could have. But did the angel love him? Maybe, maybe Aziraphale loved him as friends, it’s all Crowley could dare to believe.
After all, the angel was right, he’d hurt Crowley. Not just once, but countless times over the ages, ‘I don’t know him', ‘we’re not friends’, and of course millennia of being reminded that they were on opposite sides. For every smile that lit up the angel's face at the sight of Crowley, there was at least an equal amount of disapproving frowns. For every compliment and caring word, there were two more snide comments. Aziraphale had been phasing out of it for centuries, before the arrangement even began, slowly giving more kindness and affection than judgment and distaste. A small part of Crowley even liked to believe that when handed a bag of books from a bombed-out church the angel had looked at him with something close to love. But when push came to shove, at the end of the world, it was only when Heaven had refused him did Aziraphale make the choice to stand by Crowley. It had hurt then and a part of him was still hurt, the part of him that was tired and unhealed from the last time he’d thought he’d been loved before being sent on a plummet to a pool of sulfur.
Yes, Aziraphale loved him, Crowley wasn’t blind. For a long time, Heaven had convinced Aziraphale that they were right and that disobedience was a sin, and Crowley couldn’t fault the angel for being afraid to fall.
But did the angel love Crowley as Crowley loved him? Did the angel think about him first thing after waking (if the angel were ever to sleep), did he think of him every time he saw something the other would enjoy, did he think of Crowley when listening to music, or drinking, or eating, or when bored? Did Aziraphale think about Crowley when looking at a starry sky, or watching a play, or when laying out in the sun? Crowley did, he had for roughly six thousand years, though he hadn’t always known it. But Aziraphale, as much as Crowley loved him, Crowley also knew him. Aziraphale might love him, but it wasn’t the same.
“Oh.” And Crowley blinked (or would have if he’d been better at being in a human corporation rather than a snake one), a lot of thinking had happened in a few seconds and while it felt like it should be a groundbreaking realization, it really wasn’t. “Would you like me to leave the donuts I brought?”
Aziraphale let out a strangled laugh, sounding breathless and agitated, “Really, my dear, this isn’t the time to be joking. You’re in danger.”
“Angel, we both know that if you put up the wards, you’ll be able to take them down. And if the spell has any amount of power behind it you’ll be compelled to track me down. So either I stay here now, or after the spell finally kicks in you come after me, but at least this way you get donuts,” Crowley tried to sound like everything was fine, but it was hard. It almost felt worse than when Aziraphale hadn’t loved him at all, back before they were really friends. After all, it was one thing for love to be unrequited entirely, but different kinds of love were an oddly stinging pain.
“I’ve already hurt you enough-”
“Exactly, so don’t turn me away when you know it will make me feel better knowing I can keep an eye on you. Besides, you may be the Guardian of the Eastern Gate, but I’m still the Serpent that got in the garden, to begin with,” Crowly smirked a little.
Aziraphale breathed a laugh, “I suppose you’re right.” A snap of the fingers and a hole opened up in the wards for Crowley. Crowley snapped the donut box into his hand and gave a half-hearted knock on the door as the angel opened it allowing him to slip in.
“So, when do you think it’ll take effect-” The door slammed shut interrupting Crowley, turning to look at the angel he saw a red gleam in the normally blue eyes. “Oh-”
Before Crowley could even finish the thought AZIRAPHALE had grabbed HIM. Not the angel’s corporation, though in that form too, had the angel drawn Crowly in a tight embrace, but AZIRAPHALE GUARDIAN OF THE EASTER GATE in his angelic form, an entity that put all the wildest nightmares of the human mind to shame, was embracing CROWLEY THE SERPENT a being equally as terrifying and powerful. Infinite eyes and wings collide with a fractal snake of neverending mouths, for a moment they were like oil and water, unable to mix, before finally pushing past the resistance and melting together.
THEY could feel the spell dissipate, as it seemed the goal of the spell had somehow been met in the union. THEY felt guilt for forcing this but reassured THEMSELVES it was not only not THEIR fault, but nice. So, so nice. It was more intimate than anything a human could even dream of achieving, and yet, something that hadn’t been done amongst angels or demons since long before the war in Heaven. THEY felt a bit of pity, for all those who had done as THEY were now had perished in the war, choosing to cease existing rather than risk ever being parted. THEY felt a bit of hurt and confusion that She had allowed it.
THEY relaxed into the union, enjoying the bond THEY shared. This wasn’t something that had ever been done lightly. It was the ultimate marriage, forever tied together, even when they went back to their corporations, still hugging in the bookshop, their metaphysical forms would forever be linked. THEY were glad for it. It surprised THEM, surely THEY didn’t truly, but yes, THEY did love each other equally. Six thousand years of pain was remembered, but THEY took comfort in the six thousand years of friendship that had turned to love. THEY had not lost their individuality, but THEY felt a unity like this, as though every difference was small when compared to all THEY shared.
Oh, and how THEY shared, every memory, every thought, and fear and laughter. Not one bit of THEMSELVES was left unexplored. Not all of it was nice, THEY were ashamed of some parts that had done horrid things, or watched as horrid things happen and did nothing. There were all the parts regarding the war in Heaven, and the pain that followed, as Hell formed and Heaven changed for the worst. The bits of THEM that had felt abandoned by Her for so long. The scraps that longed for violence and destruction. All the times THEY had been jealous over the human friends the other kept.
Finally, THEY looked at the memories of the spell, THEY knew what it was now. It was a consumption spell, meant to make a person consume the ones they loved. THEY were amused as the spell had clearly intended for cannibalism, not metaphysical union, to be the result of the spell.
THEY stayed like that for what would have been millennia if time worked the same in the metaphysical plane as it did the physical one, but they had donuts to eat, wine to drink, and drunken conversations to be had.
Crowley opened his eyes, he was settled back in his corporation as well as in a tight hug with Aziraphale, the box of donuts having found itself on a table in the back. While he and Aziraphale were back in their own bodies it wasn’t quite the same anymore, if he had to describe it in terms a human could understand he would describe it as having a constant telepathic link with someone, while also still having privacy and yet not really wanting or needing it. So maybe not that easy for a human to understand.
“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale pulled away gently.
Crowley tisked, “Lying, I’m a bad influence already.”
“Oh really, my dear, must you?” But even if there wasn’t the smile in the angel’s eyes or the humor in his voice, Crowley knew Aziraphale was kidding in the same way that he would now forever know.
“I love you too, ya know, figured I should say it, not that you don’t know but-” Aziraphale interrupted him with a gentle kiss, Crowley knew it was coming, he felt in through their connection, but it still managed to surprise him in the best way, and he supposed, it always would.