Chapter Text
The light in the back room of the bookshop was soft, and relaxing classical music was playing in the background.
It was late - very late - and for some reason Crowley had decided to stay.
He normally left the bookshop around midnight; he liked to sleep, always had, and he had made a habit of it.
But there were times when he would ask the angel if he could stay. Aziraphale, of course, was always more than happy to let him; he loved having him around, he found it incredibly comforting.
They never did anything special; very often, they didn't even talk to each other.
That was one of those nights.
Crowley was sprawled on the sofa, lazily checking his phone, and Aziraphale was sitting in his armchair, reading a book.
The angel had almost finished the last chapter when he looked up at his friend, and for some reason, he found himself unable to look away.
He just sat there, staring at him.
Crowley...
The demon who performed a little miracle to get everyone to go and see Hamlet, just because Aziraphale liked it and didn’t want it to be a fiasco.
The demon who rescued him in Paris.
The demon who got him out of trouble in 1941, during the Blitz, and protected his books from the explosion, because he knew how important they were for him.
The demon who would do anything to make him feel happy and safe, and yet would never admit it.
Aziraphale looked at him intently.
He loved him. He loved him more than anything else in the whole universe.
And Crowley knew it, Aziraphale was sure of it.
They had both shown that they cared for each other more deeply than words could ever express.
And yet, Aziraphale knew that something was missing.
They had never been able to express their love properly, completely. The presence of Heaven and Hell had cast shadows over their lives for millennia, and the fear that their friendship would be discovered had haunted them every single day, relentlessly.
There had never been a moment of pure freedom between them.
Until now.
Aziraphale felt a sudden, weird combination of panic and excitement invade him. That was the very first time, since the Almost- Apocalypse, that he had allowed himself to indulge in that thought.
They were free.
And in that moment, he realised that he couldn’t wait another second.
He wanted to give Crowley something more, something that didn't need words. Something special and yet simple.
A small gesture.
The angel slowly closed the book, stood up and walked towards the sofa.
Crowley looked up at him with a vaguely questioning expression on his face.
“You alright?” He asked.
Aziraphale reached the sofa and smiled to him.
“Yes. Move over a little, please.”
Crowley gave him a confused look but complied, sitting up straight and moving to one side of the sofa.
Aziraphale sat down and gazed at him lovingly.
“Lie down...”
Crowley froze.
“What?”
“Lie down. Rest your head on my legs.” He said, calmly.
Crowley stared at him, bewildered.
“Why?”
“Because I want to take care of you.”
The demon looked even more disoriented. The smile on Aziraphale’s face softened, if possible, even more.
“Would that be ok for you?”
Crowley just stared at him for a while, clearly unsure on what to do or what to say. Then, he swallowed a bit and nodded.
“Yeah, uhm... yeah...” He mumbled.
The angel smiled contentedly, smoothed the creases of his trousers and waited.
Crowley studied him for a few more seconds, in complete silence, then he lay down hesitantly.
He rested his head on Aziraphale’s legs and crossed his arms over his chest, looking confused and vaguely nervous.
“Now what?” He asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide a note of anxiety in his voice.
Aziraphale’s sweet smile widened.
“Just try to relax...”
With a smooth movement, the angel ran his fingers through Crowley's short hair.
He didn't even have the time to let himself be surprised by how incredibly soft it was, as the demon tensed up immediately at the touch and looked at him with wide eyes.
Aziraphale stopped and gazed at him.
“Does this make you feel uncomfortable?”
Crowley didn’t answer at first. He stared at him for long moments, in complete silence, then he slowly shook his head.
The angel scrutinised him carefully.
“Are you sure?”
Crowley just nodded; he seemed to have suddenly lost the ability to speak.
Aziraphale studied him for a few more seconds, then slowly ran his fingers through his hair again.
This time, Crowley closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He instinctively leaned into the touch and moaned softly, almost imperceptibly.
Aziraphale felt his heart flutter at the sight. He kept stroking him slowly, sweetly, doing his best to convey all the love he felt.
Time stretched out around them, to the point that Aziraphale could no longer tell whether minutes or hours had passed.
At some point, Crowley turned to one side and pressed his face lightly against his belly, almost trying to hide. It took Aziraphale a few seconds to notice that he was shaking slightly, and then he realised; he was crying.
The angel stopped and looked down at him with concern, but as soon as he started to withdraw his hand, Crowley stiffened terribly and hid his face more.
“No...” He whispered in a tight voice.
“Please don’t stop...”
The angel felt his heart skip a beat at that and his breathing come to a halt.
Oh, Crowley...
He ran his fingers through his hair again, tenderly.
“I won’t...” He replied.
Crowley immediately let out a deep sigh and huddled more against him in a way that made the angel’s heart melt in his chest.
You sweet, sweet creature...
The angel kept stroking him with infinite love. He didn't stop, not even when the warm light of dawn began to stream in through the windows.
It had taken 6,000 years to get to that point and, Aziraphale decided, no one in the universe would ever steal another second from them.
They were free.