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Crowley laughs more, now.
It’s one of several changes that Aziraphale has noticed, ever since the apocalypse didn’t happen. Crowley smiles with less bite; rejects compliments with better humor; takes off his sunglasses, when they are alone together, with far more frequency.
And, indeed, he laughs more. No awkward chuckle, bitter bark, or suppressed snort; no, when Crowley lets loose now it is with full-on guffawing. Unrestrained cackling. Chortling for longer than most humans could manage without needing to stop and catch their breath. A good joke, a bad joke, a funny anecdote, a foolish conversation overheard in the street; practically anything can set him off these days, it seems. Sometimes Aziraphale can’t even identify what prompted an outburst at all.
Regardless the reason, the laughter is contagious. It always was, even in the old days, back when Aziraphale seldom dared let his reaction show unless his inhibitions had been sufficiently incapacitated by alcohol. Now, with the demon’s laugh so much more frequent and free, when they spend so much more time in each other’s company, and with no need remaining to hold back his own feelings and push them under wraps, hiding them even from himself…
Aziraphale finds that now he, too, laughs more often.
~ ~ ~
They’re sitting on their usual bench at the park when Crowley, for the third time in the space of an afternoon, breaks into laughter.
One look at his companion — head thrown back, mouth open, eyes creased shut, entire face practically glowing with humor — and, as usual, Aziraphale finds himself joining in, the empathic laugh bubbling out without his conscious decision, even as he glances around in search of the cause.
He can’t find anything. It’s a quiet day, with very few humans at the park and none of them, so far as Aziraphale can tell, getting up to particularly entertaining shenanigans. Over by the duck pond, for once there are no waterfowl acting up either. He scans their surroundings, but there is nothing else in the vicinity that seems like it could account for the demon’s amusement. And as far as Aziraphale remembers, he didn’t say anything amusing either. They’ve been mostly sitting in silence, simply enjoying the day and one another’s presence.
“What’s so funny?” he asks at last, between chuckles.
“Huh?” Crowley gulps a few more breaths of laughter, then stops, looking at him as if the question makes no sense.
“You were laughing,” Aziraphale says, pointing out the obvious. “What was funny?”
“You were laughing too,” Crowley returns.
Aziraphale blinks. He was not expecting that response. “Yes, but I was just laughing because you were laughing. Haven’t you noticed, I always—” He breaks off, catching an odd twitch of the demon’s face. “What?”
“Mhm.” Crowley smirks, and there’s something softer behind it. “I think you just answered your own question, angel.”
“Pardon?”
“Yes, I have definitely noticed.” Crowley’s grin broadens. “You have a nice laugh, did you know that?”
“...No,” Aziraphale says, honestly. It’s not something he’s considered before. Crowley’s laugh is rich, beautiful, full of everything heartwarming and delightful. Aziraphale’s own isn’t something he’s ever given any thought to one way or another. It’s something he does, not something he listens to.
“Well,” says Crowley, “it is. And I like hearing it.”
He directs a meaningful stare at Aziraphale.
Slowly, then, it begins to sink in.
“...Wait. Are you saying that when you laughed a minute ago, that was on purpose … simply because you knew it would make me laugh, too?”
“Well.” There’s no shame on Crowley’s face, just glinting amusement and enough fondness to make Aziraphale’s chest feel squishy. “I’m not not saying that.”
Aziraphale stares back at him, at his ridiculous, beloved, and utterly adorable fool of a demon.
“You wily fiend.”
“Yes, angel? It’s too late to thwart me, you know.”
Their eyes meet. And then, all at once, they are both laughing in earnest, rocking back and forth and leaning on each other for support. Laughing at themselves; laughing at each other; laughing with each other.
Laughing out of shared hilarity, sheer joy, and the sweetness of freedom and love.
~ ~ ~
Across the duck pond, a couple of humans find themselves giggling, though they aren’t sure why.