Work Text:
After regaining the trust from the upstairs and few-month efforts for dedicating to his blessing job, as much as embedded in every angel’s nature, Aziraphale finally starts feeling tedious, sometimes even being grumpy just like his old friend always shows to others. What’s the whole point for sitting aside the mass glass office table locates at the middle of spacious blank nowhere, which is such a superiority that all of his predecessors had never owned even for one second, only to deal with infinite paperwork and his subordinates’ fake smiling faces while them keeping objecting his do-some-good-thing plan.
This only increases his uncontrolled desire deep inside to check on his favourite planet, to see if it’s still running in order, although he knows there’s nothing much to do with both up and down as humans themselves are better at messing things up without any maneuver. Or so to say, he’s fed up with missing-out of these updating food, books and other fine things on earth, maybe a little more precisely, he’s desperately missing his favourite creature in the universe.
Well, there’s no one to check on his routine now, isn’t it? Hence when Aziraphale hesitates slightly on that decision, he was already at the entrance of the familiar apartment in Mayfair before he bothered to give it a second thought. As both sides have lost interest in that specific demon, the apartment is supposed to be returned to its previous owner. Maybe the demon is trying to sleep through the next few decades as he did many times to avoid awkward situations or sorrow caused by one certain angel. Then he could, Aziraphale thought, bless the demon with the sweetest dream ever, or compensate him with another kiss… Of course the kiss would be on the demon’s cheeks, or forehead, or just at the tip of his fingers as Crowley always lays them on the sheets freely. Additionally, this kind of kiss should be done secretly, with purely divine love but definitely not like the one that happened in the bookshop last time…
Truth be told, Aziraphale is still confounded with that swelling feeling in his stomach and the heat lingering on his lips that afternoon. As far as he’s concerned, only humans love each other passionately, mostly in a sexual way, would kiss like that, but demons can’t love, both of them could also not feel sexual tension mutually…could they? That’s still a complex issue to be solved but Aziraphale is still too innocent to probe the hidden answer, for this moment, he’s eager to see if his demonis doing well without his presence on earth. He could also water these plants if the demon’s being too engaged in hibernation, he’s always allowed to do so since he’s allowed to enter this apartment without permission for years.
***
Not here. Not in the well-furnished modern apartment. Aziraphale miracled to unlock the door but cannot see even a tiny piece of evidence of the demon’s possible existence. He could sense Crowley’s natural herbal scent as long as he has been staying here. This let his nerves tensed unconsciously. What if Crowley has been summoned to hell to take charge of Beelzebub’s tasks just exactly like his counterpart does? What if he never wants to be back to the earth as he doesn’t expect that Aziraphale would come to check on him so soon?
Under the overwhelming anxiety he rushed to the alley the Bentley has been parked at for the past few years. Not here either. Heaven knows how much he missed the figure of the Bentley and the chilly sooth feeling of her seats, as much as he does miss the specific aura when he’s around Crowley. What if Crowley is avoiding him deliberately? Then there would be no way to reach him by all means, one of the best talents the old serpent has is to conceal things including himself.
So, now it’s going to be the bookshop, that’s the last and only shelter to place a high hope on finding his old friend. When Aziraphale noticed a bigger “OPENED” sign at the front of the bookshop, he spotted the sight of a pot of chlorophytum immediately. It was gifted to Crowley as an alternative to Aziraphale himself, meaning to be helping the demon dispel the maliciously isolated feeling during the lockdown. The spider-like leaves are now sprawling a bit over the windows’ edge, just as frondent as last time he saw it. Since this pot had been accepted by Crowley, it has always been the most thriving one among all his collection.
This could be a silver lining, Aziraphale thought, either Crowley’s moved into the bookshop, or he could at least be informed by his whereabouts. He was literally wavering in terms of this thought and then knocked the door prudently, after all that adorable plant's still being looked after very well, everything should be back on track.
***
“Mr. Fell! How glad to have you here!” Undoubtedly, the one who came to answer was the successor of his bookshop, Muriel. Of course it’s Muriel. It doesn’t make sense if a former representative from hell is opening the door.
“Muriel! Always nice to see you. Emm…how’s it going these days? Selling any books? Please do not just give them away, they are my… well…not mine, they are magnificent legacies of human-beings which deserve to be kept by decent connoisseurs… Oh!” Aziraphale cleared his throat nervously, “And… I see you are doing some indoor gardening, how lovely.
“Aren’t they? This one is the magnificent legacy from Dear Crowley!” The junior angel didn’t even bother to hide the thrilling joy in her voice, sounds like the so-called DEAR Crowley is the reason she’s obsessed with the earth.
“Dear? Crow…Legacy? Wait, what do you mean by legacy?” This word frightened Aziraphale, is Crowley not on earth anymore? “How does that extraordinary little thing become his legacy?”
“Magnificent legacy! Just a new phrase learnt seconds ago from you, Mr. Fell! Isn’t it to describe something incredibly adorable like your books and scrumptious foods or what does legacy mean exactly? ” Answered by a purely naïve voice that gave Aziraphale such a relief, he was almost stumbled by his horrible imagination in mind.
“Legacy, generally, is only used after someone or some certain period has passed away.”
“Oh no no no! Dear Crowley is far away from passing away then, he’s right after Nina’s coffee shop for buying the lately-launched pastries!” Muriel shook her head with widened eyes, pointing out the direction of Nina’s café.
Aziraphale held his breath, does that mean he could encounter Crowley finally? “Oh! But Crowley…he’s never a fan of sweet food, or food in general…” Buying pastries, alone? That’s not common, as he remembered the last one on earth would like to appreciate pastries is the demon himself.
“Dear Crowley is buying for me, Mr. Fell! He said angels deserve to be treated with classy dessert.” Ok, her voice sounds even more delightful now.
“For you?” Aziraphale frowned unobservably,an itchy feeling occurred and crawled through his head to toe. “And… Pardon me, DEAR Crowley? If you don’t mind me asking, since when has he become your DEAR?”
“Since when you left, Mr. Fell, I heard you calling him like that then I just followed your words.”
“And he never corrects you? Well, not correct technically he is such a dear, but didn’t he disgust it at all?” The restlessness was getting more irritating when he heard Muriel calling the demon, his demon, DEAR casually, as it’s just a new middle name as the meaningless J selected by the swanking demon himself but no longer a privilege which should only been possessed by a certain angel who’s known him since the beginning.
Before Muriel could reply, the straining atmosphere was interrupted by an echoing ting of the bell. A skinny figure walked in and caught his eyes promptly. Aziraphale yearned to see the way he moves, desperately. Only he knows deep inside DESPERATELY was an understatement.
“Here’s the oven-fresh double-choco-muffin offered by Nina, Constable, give it a try…” When the lanky lad noticed the cloudlike soft angel, his voice naturally trailed out.
“Crowley…” Aziraphale's human language system is not functioning at this moment. He could still tell the trivial difference from Crowley’s voice though, his demon was still chilled, only the mischievous teasing tone was covered by a brand new distance pattern which doesn’t suit him at all.
It was an excruciating silence, the two immortals staring at each other speechlessly, while the human-police-officer taking over the box of muffins and unpacking it.
“Should I go back and fetch more muffins for another uninvited Heaven Officer now?” Thanks Heaven and Hell the demon decided to say something finally, “Oh wait wait wait, not just an officer now, aren’t you? You are a… pffff…a HEAD officer? What’s in your head anyway? What brings you here uh? Being peckish?
“Crowley, may I have a word with you? Privately.” Crowley’s just pretending to be cool, definitely, Aziraphale knows this particular type of sarcasm but he’s not in a good mood to attack back.
“No room for privacy unfortunately, just say whatever you want out loud here.” Crowley didn’t move a bit like his boots were stuck on the floor.
“I do insist, Crowley.” The angel sounds more impatient, “It would be better if Muriel could be off for a while.”
“I’m not hiding anything from Muriel, no privacy needed. Say it out, right here, right now, or I’m asking you to leave, the bookshop is about to close.” The demon punched back.
Now Aziraphale's almost infuriated, he turned to the still being over the corner of the bookshop, “Well then… As the Commander of the Heavenly Host, I demand you, Muriel, the Junior Recording Angel from the 37th class, leave two of us alone, now.” He didn’t mean to command the nice girl or any creature like this, however there is something needed to be figured out urgently, clear and present.
It is an irresistible tendency for an inferior angel to obey the orders from superiors. Muriel slopped off the bookshop, kindly left a muffin on the desk with intact wrapping.
***
“You are the one who’s not supposed to be here, angel.”
“Because you already have someone new to…fraternise, uh?” Although Crowley’s still ANGELing him consoled him mildly.
“Really? FRATERNISE? Being in charge of Heaven’s paperwork doesn’t help you with your vocabs at all angel, I’m being FRIEND with Muriel, lesson learnt, I don’t do fraternisssing anymore.” The demon couldn’t help holding hissing at last.
“Friend? You’ve only known each other for months, how could you two be friends if you only admit our friendship after 6000 years?”
“Our friendship was my mistake, angel, price paid. Now I’m going to fix the evil part of my instinct by being serious to my new partner for maybe the next 6000 yearsssss.”
“PARTNER? Well, obviously arranging my books does help you with your vocabulary.” Aziraphale wasn’t expecting there’s a word hurt more than Crowley admitting a friendship with another immortal and denying theirs, “Has she become more than a friend to you during my absence? Is there anything else you should’ve told me? Anything else I didn’t have the honor to experience with you while she’s certainly enjoying it?”
“Absence? Come on, that’s too rich of you, isn’t it? You ABANDONED me and chose to follow their steps to your side, I’m a nobody demon who’s never gonna own the honor to experience anything with the Holy Supreme Archangel Aziraphale! Just as dispensable as that poor young recording angel who’s just dispatched by you like nobody!”
“Dispatch…? I’m not dispatching her, I just need to talk to you, only us, privately.” Aziraphale could feel the ominous tensing vibe in this room, he has to fix whatever should be fixed probably far more centuries ago as soon as possible.
“…There’s nothing to talk about, angel, talking privately doesn’t come with good memories.” The demon’s voice has softened, more or less defeated if the angel cares to ponder the reason.
“No good memories? How about these chats held here in the past hundred years… You can’t neglect them but only exaggerate the last time…”
Aziraphale’s words were cut off by a solid voice: “Nothing’s happened last time, I have my own time now anyway, with Muriel, two of us.”
“Two of you?” Aziraphale could feel his invisible halo almost hitting the roof. “Speaking of Muriel, what on earth are you planning on? The bookshop is not your residence but why did you place that plant here? Are you and Muriel living together?
“That’s none of your business angel. Time’s up, privacy ends, I’m calling her back.”
Followed by a sudden noise, the demon realised his tie had already been grabbed by a sacred hand, forcing him on the closest bookshelf,causing several Jane Austen’s first editions shivering. “What if I said I want to extend this private moment? What if I said I pretty much want to leave a good memory to you this time?”
Doubt, confusion and uncertainty are clearly unfolded from the demon’s expression, moreover, if Aziraphale’s not mistaken, the eternal affection, more hopefulness behind his cover, surely means something positive.
“What…emm…”
The second kiss between them was witnessed by the same chandelier hanging over the bookshop. This time, eventually, it’s initiated by the most oblivious angel in Heaven.
“Crowley, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve not left you alone, I should’ve realized earlier, I am such an idiot.” Aziraphale left his demon reluctantly, eyes still hanging around the slightly-parted soft mouth. It tastes better than last time as their first kiss was literally tears-swallowing. Actually, Crowley’s lips taste better than any human-made pastries.
“How do you mean…angel…” The demon sounds more shaking than when high-school human boys doing their confession for the first time.
“I LOVE you Crowley, you are always going too fast for me but this time I’ not letting you wait and sob in misery again. I’m not going to FORGIVE you anymore as there’s nothing to forgive from the start.” He wiped away a drop of tears running on the demon’s cheek, then continued, “To be very honest, I was still so confused by what happened here last time until I heard Muriel calling you Dear, until I knew you are buying her pastries like you did it for me, until I heard you call her your partner … I couldn’t bear it Crowley, I couldn’t bear the very next thought that everything you’ve done to me is now shifting to her, including that… that kiss, that kiss should and have to only be mine…This possessive thought clarifies everything… I love you, Crowley, it’s different from the sort of angel’s love… FORGIVE me, Crowley, I’m the one who should request for your forgiveness. I know there’s nothing to compare with the sacrifice you made through all these years… but, Crowley… I just…”
Aziraphale is always better at eloquating, especially when he’s bored, when he needs to tell him something clever, or when something’s wrong, he could always convince Crowley to do something for him. Therefore, the demon kissed him back before the angel chattering endlessly.
“Stop it angel, Muriel’s nothing to me.” Crowley took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the floor, while the other hand cupping the angel’s soft face tenderly, “I only do all of these because she reminds me of you somehow, the light in her eyes when she’s introduced something new, the curiosity and the kindness towards the fantastic world, and the guilty after she realizing she’s helping me, it’s just… it’s just for calming myself after your ABSENCCCCE…”
“Oh… So, she’s not your PARTNER then?” Aziraphale adjusted their position, eyebrow lifted, leaned back gently to look directly into his demon’s golden eyes.
“Ngk…not even a flatmate, angel, I slept in the Bentley still, she’s more like a baby fostered by a temporarily-separated couple, I’m hanging around here just for keeping an eye on your books since she’s too…well…too reckless to take care of your collections…”
“That’s very kind of you.” The angel interrupted the grumbling with a sweet smile.
“Don’t you dare forget how many times I have saved these books for you, won’t let my efforts be destroyed by a little junior angel.” Anyway, Crowley started smirking as usual. That's the most reassuring sign to Aziraphale after today’s rollercoaster of emotions.
“A temporarily-separated couple, seriously? You are referring to us, aren’t you?” Something the demon’s said just popped into his mind, and Aziraphale is not letting it go, it’s one of his strongest interests to see his demon embarrassed.
“If you bring this up, I don’t forgive you, angel, and I never will. I’m a demon, demons don’t forgive.” Crowley verballed back to keep his stylish expression, pouting, leaning forward, fixing his eyes on the angel’s lips.
“Demons don’t love either, you silly old serpent.” Aziraphale could feel the warm breath getting closer.
“But you love demons, don’t you?”
“I don’t love demons, Crowley, it’s only you. No matter who you are. As long as you are still on our own side, wherever you are is always my Heaven.”
“Beelzebub’s taught you something, hasn’t she? RhetoriC.” Ended with a stress on the last letter, Crowley placed his lips on the angel’s again, tangling these white curls with his own fire-like read hair between their foreheads.
If someone bothers to listen carefully, there are nightingales singing over the bookshop and the street, after all these twists and turns.
Isn’t it a miracle?
Or isn’t it just ineffable?
***The end***