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It was far from Crowley’s proudest moment, but he hadn’t had time to think his actions through. The way the angel looked away, frustration and sadness wafting off of him in waves. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t let it… them end like this. He needed one more chance. One last ditch effort to make Aziraphale see that he was wrong . That going back to heaven would only make things worse, no matter what the blasted Metatron said.
Crowley’s body seemed to have taken control and replicated every romcom he had sat through. In an act of desperation, he marched towards the angel, pulled him in by his lapels, and smashed their faces together. As he twisted his eyes shut he could finally understand why humans liked this so much, even with the bitterness of their situation looming over them.
A surprised squeak had escaped from Aziraphale, but he hadn’t pulled away. His hands ghosted Crowley’s side and back, unsure yet desperate. There were points where his hand would settle and pull them closer to one another, before falling. Crowley screwed his eyes shut tighter, trying to well down the pool of warmth swirling in his chest.
Eventually, Crowley was the one who stepped back, the kiss feeling both too short and blissfully long.
The sob that escaped Aziraphale turned the warm pool in his chest to ice. He looked devastated, eyes welling up with tears and lips trembling as he struggled to get a word out. Behind his watery gaze was a longing Crowley had never seen from his angel before.
Longing for him.
But the longing faded into something else. Confusion? Anger? Crowley couldn’t tell, but it broke his heart seeing him like this. Seeing him torn.
And right as Aziraphale brought himself out of his stupor and as soon as he could finally muster up the words stuck in his throat–
“I’ll come.”
Aziraphale stilled, eyes widening and mouth stuck open.
“What?” It was barely a whisper, but Crowley heard it loud and clear. He heard the mixture of confusion and relief mixed into Aziraphale’s tone as if he was unsure of what Crowley was agreeing to.
“I’ll come with you.” A lump formed in Crowley’s throat as he forced the words out of himself. “To heaven.”
He despised heaven, maybe even more than he despised hell. They were toxic and manipulative, the higher ups only caring for themselves. But… But if Aziraphale was going to be up top maybe he could make a difference. He could change heaven… But he wasn’t going to be able to do that alone. No, he was too naive for that. The other archangels could easily take advantage of him, and if the Metatron even laid a finger on him–
“Oh, Crowley.” He was jolted out of his thoughts by a soft hand being placed upon his cheek. He locked eyes with Aziraphale from behind his sunglasses, a watery smile spread across his face. “You won’t regret a single second of this.”
He doubted that... Not that he’d admit it out loud. Not when Aziraphale looked so happy.
Their second kiss was just as sudden as the first as Aziraphale pulled him in, smiling into it. Crowley could feel the love radiating from his angel, causing tears to well up in his eyes.
A singular tear escapes Crowley and pools at the bottom of his sunglasses frame as he leans into the kiss, relishing in what little freedom he and Aziraphale have left.
The ringing of the bookshop’s bell indicated the Metatron’s return, but Crowley didn’t care. Just a few more moments. A few more moments of just the two of them, please .
Aziraphale pulls away, a whine escaping Crowley as he chases after him. “Dear,” whispers Aziraphale, placing a hand up to Crowley’s lips with an amused smile, “you’ve stopped time again.”
Oh. Crowley looks around them and catches sight of the humans outside the bookshop, all frozen in place.
“‘Suppose I have,” he grumbles, letting his shoulder slacken as Aziraphale shifts away from him, keeping a hand on his forearm.
“Should you…” Aziraphale motions around the two of them and Crowley finally notices the Metatron at the bookshop doorway, a surprised look etched onto his face.
A part of him wanted to take this opportunity to run off with Aziraphale to Alpha Centauri or even somewhere like the South Downs, just as he had originally pitched. His gaze moved to Aziraphale’s, and the angel’s eyebrows narrowed in concern.
“Crowley?” he asked.
No. Aziraphale had already turned him down. No point in dealing with a fourth rejection of his idea of running away.
Taking in a breath, Crowley let the world around them set into motion once more. He watched as the citizens of Soho returned to the hurried walks down the sidewalk and conversations at Nina’s coffee shop. He watched the birds fly through the air and cars race down the street.
“Well, it seems you two are ready.”
Crowley couldn’t help but bristle at the sound of the Metatron’s voice. Aziraphale smiles and lets his hand squeeze Crowley’s arm before sliding down and touching his hand tentatively. Crowley eagerly snatches his hand into his own, entwining their fingers together.
Aziraphale’s smile widens. “We’re ready to make a difference,” he proclaims proudly. Crowley does his best not to scowl.
Crowley was ready.
The Metatron smiles, gesturing outside the bookshop. “Then we best be on our way. I promise that Muriel will take excellent care of the place.” The Metatron’s gaze shifts over to Crowley. “We’re ecstatic to have you back.”
He was ready to do whatever it takes to protect his angel.
Crowley gives a weak nod and the three leave the bookshop, entering the bustling street before them. Crowley eyes the elevator to heaven and scowls. He was moments away from sealing his fate. Moments away from being an angel again.
Moments away from a job he once hated.
But he’d go back and protect Aziraphale, even if it meant falling all over again.