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Although Aziraphale was a believer, it was on rare occasions he felt like God was the one performing a miracle. Of course, there was the Great Ineffable Plan, but a miracle, something that felt divergent to what was considered right and obvious? That was flabbergasting.
That's what it felt, to have Crowley's lips against his own: a miracle. He couldn't understand why his whole vessel felt like it was burning inside out, why he felt lightheaded, he just couldn't understand. Was he supposed to hold him? Was he supposed to just be held? How many times had Crowley done this before, or was it a first for the two of them? The minute he was able to grasp the immensity of the blessing he had on his lips, Crowley was parting.
Yellow eyes stared at him through mahogany lenses. Eyebrows tense, in a pleading motion. Crowley was praying, in a way, Aziraphale thought. What about this would be worth a prayer? Was it wrong for them to do so? Was Crowley trying to tempt him again, like he did with the meat all those centuries ago? "I..." Aziraphale started. He meant to say I forgive you. But of course he was a reasonable angel and even though he was tangled in feelings, he understood what that would sound like.
———
They stood there for what it felt like double the amount of time they had lived. Aziraphale just couldn't speak. Crowley had the metal taste of his anger burning his tongue.
"Is this it, then?" Sometimes the metal tasted like the venom of his words. Venom, not poison, because Aziraphale had left an open wound on his chest. "After all they've done to you, to us, you'll go back to them?"
Aziraphale might've doubted the Almighty's plans, but he wouldn't dare to say it out loud. But this wasn't about God, not anymore. It was about doing good. "All these years," the angel spoke like a wounded service dog, "all these years I have done nothing but try and be good. I understand your reluctance, but this matters a whole lot to me." Crowley was blurry through his tears. "We wouldn't need to sacrifice it all for the fighting to stop."
Sometimes, Crowley forgets Aziraphale isn't by his side at all times. He remembers watching the trial, and how that was the same thing Gabriel was trying to do: stop the fighting. Crowley steps a little closer. "Angel, they won't let you. You'll be a little puppet for them to play with, it's a broken system, you won't-"
"Can't I at least try, Crowley!?" Aziraphale sighs and surrenders to his tears. Crowley instinctively holds his arms.
"I can't risk losing you, Angel." Crowley whispers. "Gabriel tried to stop Armageddon two and they fired him and he ended up naked in your bookshop, what are they going to do to you? C'mon, Aziraphale."
When Crowley hugs him it feels like yet another miracle. His arms around him, engulfing him, drowning him. This feels better than Heaven, and in thinking this he hopes The Almighty forgives his blasphemy. Aziraphale stays there and learns how to breathe again.
"I thought..." Aziraphale starts, once he calms down. "I thought if I was in charge, I could make it so your... existence here, not as fragile."
Crowley chuckles. "Oh, I don't think that is worth our heads."
Aziraphale frowns, afraid he's not being listened to. He decided to start somewhere else. "Do you have any idea how happy ox ribs make me? To this day?"
"Well, you do prefer fancier thin-"
"It's hard to find a place where they cook it like they did it in the past, sometimes the taste just isn't the same. When I do find it," Aziraphale chuckles, a genuine expression of happiness amidst the pain, "oh, it's marvelous!"
Crowley smiles. Uses one of his hands to pet Aziraphale's hair and closes his eyes.
"You presented them to me." The Angel notices.
"I did." The former Angel confirms.
"I..." Aziraphale moves away, and for half a second he registers Crowley's face as scared. "I wouldn't have known that if it weren't for you. That alone was already worth my head."
Crowley is looking at him, and Aziraphale can't tell what he's thinking.
"I won't go back. I can't. Not after everything." Crowley whispers. Now his expression is more caring.
"I... I think I can't say no." In instinct, Aziraphale's body holds Crowley's as the latter tries to move away. Aziraphale's eyes light up when he notices, and he grows embarrassed. He looks away but his body needs to look back. "I won't force you to go either! I mean, I think that would be rather insensitive considering you've already expressed your disdain for-"
"Angel." The Demon calls. In his mouth, it isn't a role for him to play. It is but a term of endearment. It is but a way of saying "you, Aziraphale, are the light I lack in me. You are my moral, my guide, and everything else that is too ineffably perfect and holy". "Angel?" Crowley calls again, for Aziraphale was too lost in his thoughts. He hums inquisitively in response. "You can say yes."
Aziraphale gasps, his smile taking over his face, having to giggle to contain his feelings.
"But I'm not coming with you."
Suddenly, his smile vanishes, and the glow in his eyes dimmer. "But- Crowley, I need you, I can't-"
"I'll be right here." Crowley gestures vaguely for the bookshop, hands leaving Aziraphale, making him feel cold. He wants to reach for Crowley again. He wants to explain how that is too far, how that is not enough, but his mind can't find the words his heart already knows. "You'll do just fine. I can be your unofficial consultant, if anything."
"Why?" Aziraphale whispers. A change of heart, all of a sudden? Not complete, but this quick? This genuine?
"Didn't you say this matters a lot to you? Well, go for it. Just don't be a stranger. I'll live." Starstruck, Aziraphale stands. This man... This Demon... Capable of having such a heart, of being so considerate, so empathetic. Putting Aziraphale's needs and wants before his own.
With that, Mr. Fell has fallen once again. He may not know that's what it is, but he feels it.
Timidly, even cowardly, the Angel moves foward, looking at Crowley's lips. Crowley waits this time, and Aziraphale feels like cursing him. Their eyes meet, and Crowley can't help but smile. Aziraphale looks away, and Crowley comes just a bit closer, then Aziraphale's body closes the gap. Their lips meet, tenderly this time, and it feels nice. Crowley holds his face this time, caressing him, and Aziraphale holds his ribs. It was the perfect goodbye kiss.
Once they separated, Aziraphale announced: "We need a plan."
———
Crowley left, and Metatron came inside the shop. Aziraphale had to hold his tongue when Metatron suggested Crowley's questions were a negative trait, it was one of his favorite things about his best friend!
"My bookshop!" He says, as if minutes before he hadn't said nothing lasts forever. He considers his newfound hesitancy, if it meant he should just give it all up and be with-
"I've entrusted it to Muriel," which wasn't a bad choice, it made sense, Muriel is a lot like him after all.
"But-" There's nothing else he can think of. The bookshop and Crowley were the only things on his mind, and he couldn't take either with him.
Admitting Crowley wouldn't be there with him during the most important of his angelic life was very confusing. Mostly because he knew Crowley was there for him, but not by his side.
———
After leaving, Crowley immediately went to his car. The second thing on earth capable of soothing him, soon to be the first. He was meddling with the idea he would be miserable for Hell knows how long, but stops himself every once in a while, because he lied to Aziraphale. While not technically a lie, he knew he wouldn't live without Aziraphale. He'd just go in circles until his Angel came back to him, realizing how stupid Heaven is.
He caught himself looking at the bookshop as Metatron went in. He got out of the car, stood next to it, and waited. Waited to see if he would change his mind. It felt like ages, but he was only sure Aziraphale had left him once the doors closed and the elevator took off.
Crowley looked away, tasting the metal in his tongue again, the rage starting to fill up his wounded chest, but his eyes met Nina, who waved at him. He remembered the conversation they had had.
He realized he wasn't the one who wasn't ready for a relationship, it was Aziraphale. Maybe in another 6,000 years he shall have him. Maybe not. He couldn’t guarantee.