Work Text:
1941
Aziraphale’s heart raced, a rapid patter that refused to slow no matter how many deep breaths he took. His entire body vibrated, relentless trembling. And his mind…
Well, his mind repeated one thing, over over, a repetitive note building in volume until he thought he might explode.
He saved me. He saved me. He saved me.
Another thought ran alongside that one, a quiet but profound melody that he tried his very best not to hear. Hearing it was risky, far too risky, and yet he couldn’t quite tune it out.
He tried anyway, glancing at Crowley. That was distinctly unhelpful. Crowley wasn’t looking at him, attention fixed on the road, but oh… He was beautiful, simply beautiful, and so brave, and—
“Well,” Crowley said, and the much-missed sound of his voice sent a chill all through Aziraphale. “Here we are. Bookshop’s, er, looking good.”
He still wasn’t looking at Aziraphale, hands clenched on the steering wheel. Those beautiful, slender fingers, knuckles white. It was all Aziraphale could do not to pry both hands off the wheel and cradle them in his own. To pull Crowley close, to—
The insistent melody of realization swelled again, and Aziraphale tried to drown it out with a more realistic development. “Would you like to come inside the shop, Crowley? I-I’d love to, um. Offer you a drink. Or something.”
Crowley swallowed hard, fingers tightening even more. Then he exhaled slowly and let go. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”
The question hung between them for a moment. Aziraphale tightened his own grip on the book bag, on that precious gesture of kindness. “Yes, my dear. I’m very sure.”
Some of the tension eased in Crowley’s shoulders, and he shoved the door open with a grunt. Aziraphale got out too, clutching the book bag as his heart raced. He could hardly tear his eyes away from Crowley for even long enough to patter across the street.
He saved me. He saved me. He saved me.
Aziraphale fumbled with the bookshop door, hardly able to catch his breath as the emotions flooded him. Crowley had saved him, yes, and at great personal risk. He could have been shot, been seriously hurt by the consecrated ground, perhaps even killed. And he’d done it for Aziraphale.
Because…
He loves me.
Aziraphale closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying again to dismiss the thought as he opened the bookshop and led Crowley inside. That thought was dangerous, yes, but an even more dangerous one accompanied it.
“Here we are,” Aziraphale said unnecessarily, closing the door behind Crowley. Crowley was slouching, hands crammed in his pockets, looking around the shop. “Well. As you can see, not much has changed. More books, of course.”
A slight smile tugged at Crowley’s lips, and he took a slow step closer. “Yeah, looks like you got loads more books.”
“Mhm.” Aziraphale gulped, staring at Crowley’s lips, heart pounding faster and faster as the thought drummed through his head. It resisted every attempt to control it, to dismiss it. “I, um… thank you. For these.” He waved the book bag, then set it down. He could hardly bring himself to let go of the handle, and his hands quaked as he did. “And for, well. For me, too. I was in rather a nasty spot.”
Crowley took another step closer, gaze intent even with the dark glasses shielding his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you, angel,” he said softly.
The other half of the realization sang through Aziraphale, so insistent that it utterly overwhelmed his defenses. He stared at Crowley a moment longer, breathless, trembling as it played in his mind.
I love him too.
Aziraphale lunged forward, curling one hand behind Crowley’s head, and pulled him down. He kissed Crowley fiercely, desperately, other hand tangled on his suit jacket.
A soft whine slipped from Crowley. He seized Aziraphale’s arms, holding him tightly, pressing against him. Their lips crashed together hard, each of them dragging the other closer.
Everything else seemed to quiet, retreating in importance until it was nothing. Heaven and Hell, Opposite Sides, all irrelevant. There was nothing but this moment, nothing but the demon in Aziraphale’s arms, kissing him back as if the world was ending.
Aziraphale slid his fingers through Crowley’s short hair, and Crowley’s grip tightened on his arms. Aziraphale broke the kiss for just a second. “You reckless serpent,” he gasped between lip presses. “You put yourself… in danger… for me.”
“Worth it.” Crowley kissed him passionately, tongue teasing at his lips, and Aziraphale yielded to the deeper kiss at once.
He was pressed so tightly to Crowley, so in tune, that he felt the slightest hitch in rhythm, the slightest tremor. He broke off at once and pulled Crowley into a tight hug. “Oh, my dear boy, I missed you so much.”
“Missed you too.” Crowley hugged him back, but the trembling hadn’t stopped. He let out a soft hiss, face pressed to Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Might need to… to sit down.”
“Oh!” Perhaps it was from kissing without breath for so long, although breathing wasn’t strictly necessary for supernatural entities. “Of course, my dear. Come now.”
He stepped back, keeping hold of Crowley’s arm. Crowley limped to the sofa. Limped?
The reason burst into Aziraphale’s mind with the same volume as his earlier realization. “Oh, Crowley, you’re hurt! Is it from the consecrated ground?”
“Hn.” Despite the faint noise of protest, Crowley looked down at his feet and sighed.
Choked up, Aziraphale helped him sit, then quickly removed Crowley’s shoes and socks. Crowley’s feet were badly burnt, still smoking.
“Oh, I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about this at once!” Aziraphale snapped his fingers, miracling a basin of tepid water and clean cloths. “You old silly, letting me kiss you…”
“Hey, I was kissing you too. Little extra pain was also worth it.” Crowley settled a trembling hand on Aziraphale’s head, stroking his hair. He flinched a little as Aziraphale held a compress to one foot, then patted his hair again as if in apology for reacting. “My angel.”
“I love you,” Aziraphale blurted, lifting his head. He couldn’t so much as take Crowley’s hand right now, not with his own occupied, so instead he kissed Crowley’s knee. “I love you so much, Crowley.”
A smile spread across Crowley’s face, at first unbelieving and then delighted. He whipped off his sunglasses and gazed down at Aziraphale with soft, adoring eyes. “I love you too, Aziraphale. Would do anything for you.”
Aziraphale leaned his cheek against Crowley’s leg, a few tears falling. “Oh, my dear boy. You truly did endanger yourself today. Oh, and you were so brave, so dashing, but…”
“Hey, seriously. It was worth it.” Crowley’s hand settled on his head again, gentle and reassuring. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, burnt feet and all.”
Crowley truly did love him so much. And oh, how Aziraphale loved him too.
He bathed Crowley’s feet, patted them dry, and carefully bandaged them. Then he pulled the coffee table closer and cushioned it with blankets. “Here, my dear. Let’s just get your feet elevated, and you can lean back.”
Crowley quirked a little smile at him. “As long as you join me.”
“Oh, I shall.” He couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
At last, they were side by side on the sofa. Aziraphale took Crowley’s slender hands and kissed them, once to each knuckle. Then he raised his head, meeting Crowley’s golden gaze.
They kissed again then, more slowly, taking their time. Crowley skimmed his fingers along Aziraphale’s jaw, and the light contact sent a shiver through him. Yes, this was precisely what he’d wanted. There were so plenty of complications and things to worry about later, but for now there was nothing but Crowley.
Crowley pressed another gentle kiss to the very corner of his mouth, then drew back to smile at him. “Gonna get me that drink sometime, angel?”
“Oh yes! I shall.” Aziraphale had entirely forgotten it in the excitement, but they could certainly both use it. He miracled a bottle of scotch to them and poured, heartbeat slow and steady. Perhaps this what what it felt like to be at peace.
He and Crowley drank, and talked, and kissed some more. And then they snuggled up, Crowley’s head resting on Aziraphale shoulder.
The thoughts still played through Aziraphale’s mind, a welcome song that no longer unsettled him. They were all entirely true, and no longer hidden. No matter what happened next, he would remember.
He saved me. He loves me. I love him too.