Work Text:
The moon, cold reflection on the city, serene, almost like a gentle breeze was already taking away the leaves with it, the world, however seemed to rush up. Cars honking, people running, streets busy opposing the quiet and safe space Aziraphale and Crowley created for themselves, wrapped in each other's arms, the angel's head was comfortably resting on the demon's chest.
Enjoying the warmth of the bookshop, a soft glow of candlelight was their only company casting gentle shadows upon their faces, almost making Crowley's brille eyes glow too, where they usually somber. Maybe it wasn't the candlelight, maybe it was just his angel's natural radiance, or maybe it was the brightness of being able to lie down like this and relax with his angel.
But things aren't that simple, and they never were. Even eons past, the only witnesses to their melancholy were but the celestial stars.
"Dear," Crowley spoke, his voice a gentle dance upon the breeze, a newfound trust and vulnerability that he showed just to the angel, in the stillness of contemplation. "Sometimes, I wonder if we did the right thing..."
Amidst confession, Aziraphale remembered that time in Eden, their first ever interaction almost looped again now, like an infinite. Feeling a lump form in his throat, he answered, "We were angels... I don't think we could do the wrong thing." Almost chuckled, he never forgot what those words meant for him, and he will never forget.
"We're pawns." Crowley wailed, his hand finding its way to Aziraphale's back, holding him closer, almost scared of losing him again. He continued, chiding "Pawns in a game we don't know the rules of, and it is..."
"So frustrating." Aziraphale admitted, finishing Crowley's sentence. "and I wish it were simpler…" he added, questioning the validity of the ineffable plan for the first time, with a hint of sorrow tinted in his voice.
They both paused, a second that felt like a millennium, once again, but it is okay, they had all the time, for all eternity, together.
Crowley's thoughts danced around, because those weren't the words he would have used to describe how he felt, he would have been ruder, but he wouldn't dare to say that to Aziraphale, no when he looked at Crowley with all the love in his eyes, and no when the angel already knew. he knew everything about the demon, Crowley couldn't hide himself, he couldn't lie, Aziraphale already knew, and they both understood it.
Their little comfortable place, had no space for extra words, their gazes connecting and they just knew…
Their silence was only interrupted by the mismatched breaths, almost like a poem or a dance, but they were too busy to admire that.
Their emotions were speaking for them, loud and clear in their quietness, as the other interpreted them, sometimes, realizing feelings even before themselves.
Aziraphale's eyes locked with Crowley's once again
in a loving but pitiful attempt at consolation, and Crowley admired him, with such sweetness that he thought he was going to get lovesick. Aziraphale's eyes were beautiful, like a watercolor painting made by the most detailed of artists, and the demon was almost in love with of them as he was with his angel, wishing their gazes had lock sooner, before the galaxies were painted, so he could have inspired the nebulas on them.
Nevertheless, Crowley smiled a little pleased, now almost proud about the fact that they were alone, about the fact that Aziraphale wasn't his muse before, because now he was the only one that got to witness his angel's soul door, unguarded and vulnerable, and oh… he couldn't wish for anything else.
A feeling of complicity, tinged with a bit of possessiveness guided Crowley's thoughts, his hands, almost with a mind of their own, were now on Aziraphale's lower back, mindlessly rubbing circles on it, in a soft massage he wished could convey so much affection, Aziraphale blushed.
"Angel." Crowley broke the silence between them, Aziraphale looked up at him, his head slightly tilting, unnoticeable for anyone else but Crowley, who just smiled tenderly. "Yes, dear?" Aziraphale replied.
"Let's grab something to nibble." Crowley offered gently, almost tempting, as he always did. Keeping his cold but knowing hands on Aziraphale's waist, stealing a little bit of the angel's warmth, with a little smirk, he waited expectantly for a known and expected affirmative answer.
Even after all these years, they both still felt the lingering effects of what happened in the Armageddon, the thought of losing each other, Gabriel insulting Aziraphale wouldn't leave Crowley's mind, sickening him, his wings twitched every time he even thought about it, but his angel was there. And the love and trust had helped them to heal in ways they hadn't expected this soon.
"Of course my dear boy…"
Aziraphale answered with the endearing pet name sliding off his soft lips, not being able to excuse its use in alcohol this time, but knowing it would be well received and appreciated. They both slowly started to untangle their arms and legs from the hug, to finally move for the first time in a few hours.
-But maybe, they've been cuddling for days at this point, still possessing the entirety of eternity for themselves… None of them bothered to keep the track of time or its passage, not when they're able to love each other so much, so freely and purely, for the first time in centuries.-
Crowley was the first one to stand up but Aziraphale walked away rhythmically, the demon followed him closely to the kitchen where he had miraculously filled the fridge with the finest and most delicate desserts and pastries of all kinds for his lover, -they were almost as elegant and creamy as his beloved angel.- Crowley thought as he miracled nice dinnerware to match the little tempts too.
"Angel cake…" Aziraphale paused, admiring the sweet on his hands for a few seconds. "That's utterly lovely." The angel continued with a shy smile as soon as he saw the nice treat.
For a moment, his mind traveled a little back, reminding how he had seen Crowley temp the nice woman who created the recipe into calling her creation 'Angel's cake' in his honor, back in 1878. Aziraphale has grown quite fond of that memory, finding himself re-reading that detailed page in his diary more often than he cares to admit.
"Shut up." Crowley, who never knew how to react to Aziraphale's sweet comments, answered, but the smile on his face betrayed his tough-boy intention, giving away that he definitely didn't really think that. -and would rather the opposite, to continue hearing his angel's praise.-
"Oh my darling boy… you know I can't hide my thoughts much from you. And how much I appreciate all this…"
Aziraphale continued insistent, while fiddling with the fork, pinching it into the dessert, finally getting a bite, still looking at Crowley, licking the cream that accidentally decorated his lips. If the demon didn't know better -and he didn't- he could almost swear that it was absolutely sinful.
Aziraphale, pleased with himself and with his lover's reaction, savored another slice of the soft airy cake. The delicacy found its way to his lips, a languid dance of flavor upon his tongue. Across the counter table, Crowley's gaze lingered, a subtle heat simmering beneath the poor facade of casual observation.
The way the angel's lips curved around the fork, the soft whimper and sounds of satisfaction that escaped them, breaking the recent silence. And every movement seemed to hold a secret invitation between them both, an invitation that Crowley couldn't resist but accept, settling in his seat. He no longer concealed his intentions, staring.
The unspoken connection between them deepened, wrapped in the shared delight of that private moment.
"Ah… I wonder if you were the real temptation angel."
Crowley lowered his gaze, noticing that his corporation began to react, reddening his cheeks in a soft blush, a little embarrassing for a demon who used to be in the lowest circles of hell.
"Oh! Crowley!" Aziraphale said, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips, but he hid it off, continuing with their little playing, he blushed like a teenager. Sharing the moment, almost like a little secret between them, he giggled, and Crowley admired him, as he always did. With a bemused smile, he leaned back in his chair, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You know," he drawled.
"Yes, my dear?" The angel inquired, curiously raising an eyebrow slightly, taking another slow bite off the known sweet. Crowley's smirk grew wider. Not many words were left to say when they knew this wasn't about the food. They continued to watch, desire and admire each other for a little more while.
"You look gorgeous when you eat."
Aziraphale's laughter tinkled, Crowley just sighed in love as he nodded in agreement, each bite of his sumptuous meal, the flavors dancing on the angel's taste buds, and Crowley watched with an amused glint on his eyes, as though he were a spectator to a particularly fascinating show, amused, the demon, found a certain delight in observing Aziraphale's pleasures, almost like a voyeur, he could insist for millenia again. –and maybe they did, enjoying and indulging each other in all kinds of pleasures, watching and admiring with a love that tinted the lust and sin of the situation endearingly.–