Work Text:
What is love?
Everyone has a different answer.
For some, its happiness. For some, its contentment. For some, its friends, and for others its family. For many it's one person. That is love for humans.
For beings that have been alive since the dawn of creation, it's something completely different.
For two of them, it's hot cocoa, warm cuddles, a pair of open arms after a long day. That is love for Beelzebub and Gabriel.
For some, love is devotion. It's praise to those above, or those below. It's dedication, work, doing what has been told of you. That is the love of demons and angels to their superiors.
For one, love is fire. Love is chaos. Love is walks through graveyards, broken contracts for the greater good. It's watching the other eat. It's digging up graves. Love is a bookshop. It's an apology dance. It's good, even though he's not supposed to be good. For Crowley, love is angelic. Love is Aziraphale.
For another, love is water. Love is steady, reliable. It's watching Shakespeare's plays, books that survived a bombing. It's a black Bentley. It's a flaming sword. It's being saved from a beheading in France. It's crepes. It's bad, even though he's not supposed to be bad. For Aziraphale, love is demonic. Love is Crowley.
For Crowley and Aziraphale, love is endless. It is two halves of a miracle.
For Crowley and Aziraphale, love is ineffable.