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Summary
Crowley tensed, seeing a bit of light and stubborn conviction begin to fill Aziraphale's eyes before the tired resignation returned as he continued. "Though probably not. We would've still had the entirety of Heaven and Hell on our tails with no Antichrist or convenient coupling to save us. We would've been fighting the wrong war. It's all up to Her ineffable will. I should have seen it with Job. It wasn't Heaven that made the bet, after all."
"Then what was it? What was so wrong with you that they could treat you so badly?" Crowley whimpered. If he was in a better state of mind he would've never asked something so gooey, but the being of his dreams just openly admitted he loved him. You can't blame him for getting a bit emotional.
"It was the admiration."
or they finally fucking talk
