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He saved the books. Aziraphale ran his hands over the leather satchel. He saved the books. The thought kept running through his head, Crowley saved the books even though he didn’t have to. They meant nothing to Crowley, but they meant so much to Aziraphale, and that’s why he did it.
Aziraphale didn’t understand what he was feeling, it was like all his emotions had been dialed up to 10, especially when he thought about Crowley. He wanted to laugh, to cry, he wanted to grab Crowley’s hand, he wanted to stare at Crowley until he got his fill.
Aziraphale glanced at Crowley out of the corner of his eye. Crowley looked quite relaxed maneuvering the vehicle through the dark streets of London. Aziraphale wondered how long Crowley had been back, the car wasn’t new, at least Aziraphale didn’t think it was, he wasn’t the best judge of these things. Oh how he’d missed him. Aziraphale was trying to pluck up the courage to tell him so, when Crowley pulled up in front of the bookshop.
“Here we are, angel.”
“Yes… would you like to come in?”
Crowley seemed hesitant to answer.
“I have a 1920 Laffite Rothschild I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Aziraphale placed the books down just inside the door once they entered. Crowley sauntered past him.
“This place hasn’t changed all that much,” said Crowley, “a few more piles of books.”
Aziraphale twisted the ring on his pinky finger as he watched Crowley poke around a bit. After a moment Crowley seemed to realize that Aziraphale hadn’t followed him in and was still standing just inside the doorway. Crowley came back over to him.
“Hey, Aziraphale, you okay? Maybe we should call it–”
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the lapels, pulled him in, and kissed him. The kiss was a little awkward because he had obviously caught Crowley by surprise. He released Crowley a second later.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
“No, hey now, none of that,” said Crowley, as he placed a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek and tilted his head so they could kiss properly. At first it was just a press of lips, but then Crowley deepened it.
Crowley tasted of coffee and something a little bit smoky. Aziraphale wanted to devour him. He pressed closer, but his foot bumped Crowley’s, and Crowley let out a muffled hiss.
“Are you alright, my dear?”
“Yeah, fine, feet are still a little tender, that's all,” said Crowley, while he tried to lean in for another kiss, but Aziraphale stopped him.
“Crowley, are you saying you’re in pain?”
“Ah, yeah, a little, but it’s no big deal.”
“It most certainly is!” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm and dragged him into the back room.
“You sit there,” Aziraphale said, pointing at the couch, “and I'll have a look at those feet of yours.”
Aziraphale knelt down and undid Crowley’s leather shoes. Crowley groaned when Aziraphale pulled them off his feet; then he hissed as Aziraphale gently rolled down his socks.
“Oh my poor boy,” exclaimed Aziraphale as he examined Crowley’s poor burned and blistered feet.
“Looks worse than it is,” said Crowley.
“Hm.” Aziraphale wasn’t so sure about that. “These are wounds caused by holiness so I can’t use miracles, so we will have to do this the human way.”
Aziraphale snapped his fingers and a basin of water appeared. He tested the water, it was cool, but not too cold. He rolled up Crowley’s pant legs and helped him place his feet in the water.
“You should probably let them soak for a bit.”
“Angel, come up here,” called Crowley, patting the couch cushion.
Aziraphale sat beside him. Crowley ran his fingers through his golden curls, then he kissed him again.
They kissed for a long while, exploring this new found avenue. It was sweet and exciting, and Aziraphale was kicking himself for never initiating this before. It wasn’t until he heard a small splash of water from Crowley moving his feet that he finally pulled away.
“I should check on that,” he said before tearing himself away from Crowley’s arms.
He snapped his fingers and a fluffy towel, salve, and bandages appeared. Crowley bore up brilliantly considering the circumstances, and only hissed and moaned a few times throughout the bandaging process.
Once he had tied off the last of the bandages, Aziraphale looked up to see Crowley looking rather weak.
“I’m sorry that was so awful for you.” Aziraphale took hold of Crowley’s hand and kissed the back of it.
“Nah, it’s fine, to be expected.”
Aziraphale sat beside Crowley again. Crowley put his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders, and Aziraphale laid his head on Crowely’s chest. They stayed quiet like that for quite awhile.
“Aziraphale, what changed?”
“Hmm?”
“This kissing and stuff, why now?”
“You saved the books,” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shoulder.
“What?”
“You saved the books,” Aziraphale said more clearly.
Crowley looked at him, then he threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He laughed so long it started to annoy the angel.
“Crowley, stop it” he said, giving him a weak slap on the chest. Crowley suppressed his laughter until it was just a few muffled giggles.
“Angel, if I'd known that’s all it would take I would have done it sooner. Would have rescued the whole Library of Alexandria for you.”
“Dear, stop being foolish.”
“I’m not. You know I’ve liked you like that for a really long time, right?”
“You did? Oh, I wish I’d realized sooner.”
“We could have been doing a lot more snogging at any rate.”
“Really, Crowley?! Snogging?”
“What would you call it?”
“Well, I’d call it romantic affection.”
Crowley scrunched his nose up at that. Aziraphale smiled fondly, and kissed the end of Crowley’s nose.
“Hey,” said Crowley, turning his face away slightly, “didn't someone promise me a fine bottle of wine?”
“I believe someone did, yes.”
Aziraphale got up and poured them two glasses of wine, passing one to Crowley.
“You know, whatever you call it, I’m glad we can be like this, together,” said Crowley.
“I am too, my darling, I am too.”
Then they clinked their glasses together.