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Aziraphale was excited, to say the least.
Only a tiny bit nervous. But the smile on his face never faltered. Crowley couldn't take his eyes off the angel, if he tried. And... he tried. Kept reminding himself that if his friend could hear his thoughts, at the very least, it would take them more than a century to ever see each other again.
It wasn't what Aziraphale wanted. Never would be. Crowley had to make peace with that, he couldn't lose his best friend. His only friend.
Staying away from him never helped, either. Thoughts about Aziraphale being in danger constantly swarmed the demon's head. No, that wouldn't do. The gorgeous idiot was unconsciously attracted by dangerous situations, there was no other explanation. If downstairs knew Crowley abandoned another job in order to walk in consecrated ground and rescue his biggest adversary, he wouldn't see the light of day for Go- Sa- somebody knows how long.
So staying close to him was the only logical solution. Aziraphale wouldn't get himself in trouble with Crowley watching over him. If he wanted crepes, he was more than willing to miracle him some. Hell wouldn't be opposed to a demon tempting an angel to succumb to gluttony, now, would they? Besides, don't people say 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'? There has to be more to this phrase, something along the lines of 'keep your friends close, your enemies closer and the angels you've been pining for for the past 6000 years even closer'. Hell needn't know about that last part.
"Lift home?" Please get in the car so I know you got home safe and didn't end up blown to pieces you silly angel- was what he wanted to say.
When the angel didn't move to follow him, he turned around and his heart stopped. Not that it needed to keep beating, but for a moment, it stopped. The angel's face had gone even paler than usual, his expression unreadable. Oh no. What did I do wrong? What happened? Should I not have-
"Angel?" his voice came out all hoarse and scared, scared he somehow messed something up. He hadn't seen his ang- his friend in ages and he messed up their first meeting. "Are you-" he cleared his throat, "you okay?"
That seemed to do the trick, since Aziraphale suddenly started blinking rapidly, and gave Crowley a shy smile before catching up to him in a couple unsteady strides.
"Perfectly. Now where is that car you mentioned?" Besides his apparent recovery, he was unable to meet Crowley's investigating eyes. Even behind those dark lenses, he could sense his friend studying him.
Once in the car, Aziraphale's knuckles had gone white around the bag's handle.
"You know, um... That was a very nice thing- you did for me."
"Shut up!" Seriously, 6000 years and the idiot didn't know Crowley didn't want- didn't need his praise? An arrangement. This was an arrangement. 'Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours', type thing. Oh, what he wouldn't give to dig his nails in Azira-
"Well, there must be something I can do for you... in return?" Was it the fire around the car or- no, it was Aziraphale's stare on him. The angel's eyes were digging into Crowley's profile and he could swear he felt the steering wheel bend beneath his strong grasp. Yes, there is. You could not run if I so much as gave you a peck on the lips. Just for the taste of it.
"Forget it, will you?" Controlling his breathing seemed to be almost impossible. Damn humans and their damn stupid human bodies. "Right!" he needed to change the subject, and soon. "Spot of business to do. Spreading the old demon drink." He took a sudden right turn, which made Aziraphale hold on to his bicep in order to not properly land on his lap. Note to self, take more abrupt turns. More abrupt. More turns.
The moment they stepped out of the car, the angel made the most un-angelic sound known to man. Surely, he ought to be doing this on purpose. Crowley clenched his jaw and slammed the driver's door shut.
Double edged sword, that angel. Keeping him close wasn't helping him either, if he was going to keep making comments and sounds like that.
He opened the case to find all 40 bottles he was supposed to deliver, broken to a million pieces. Well, that's just my luck. Mrs Henderson started going on and on about her troubles, which, to be fair, were a little dramatic seeing that there was an actual war on. He'd take her outbursts over Beelzebub's any day, though.
Aziraphale broke him out of his trance, again.
"I- I wonder if... I might be able to... help you out... On behalf of my... Um... Good friend, here," Did that idiot raise his hand? What's he gonna do, anyway? Read Shakespeare to the soldiers? Eat a tart making those shameful sounds? "I am no stranger to the art of prestidigitation!" Oh, I'm fucked. And in no way I would enjoy. Aziraphale started waving his white handkerchief in the air, causing the demon to lower his head to hide the smile creeping up on his face.
To his surprise, Mrs Henderson hesitantly agreed to let him perform. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
See, you idiot? That's what he meant when he said he wanted to do something for you. Get your mind out of the gutter, it's not. Going. To happen.
On the way back to the bookshop, once again in the car, Crowley desperately tried to clear his head and convince himself Aziraphale was only doing him a favour because he saved his precious books. There was no possible way to tell him 'no, angel, I don't need anything in exchange. All I want is you but I can never have that, so I'll take what you can give me'. They barely uttered two words to each other the whole ride. Which, to be fair, didn't last long. Crowley was too stressed to even care about Aziraphale's death grip on the dashboard.
When they finally made it back, Aziraphale ran to the rest of his ridiculous books, no doubt looking for his 'prestidigitation' ones.
Crowley gathered all his courage and finally did what he knew he ought to have done for a while now. He leaned on a pillar for support.
"Cheers for... Um... Getting me off the hook." That wasn't so hard, was it?
"Oh, there's no need to thank me!" he was too cheerful for his own good. "That's what... Friends..." He's called him his friend before, what was he struggling with now? Did he regret it? "...Are for..."
No time to unpack that now.
Aziraphale was too excited to perform, it was almost endearing to watch. Might as well get comfortable. Crowley removed his hat and coat and dragged a chair to enjoy the private show the angel was about to put on for him.
"Go on, Mister British-Man, wow me with your miracles!" In an attempt to help the angel through his nerves, he opted to try and make him laugh. To his disappointment, he didn't seem to notice.
He never took his eyes off the other's hands, performing his shilling-vanishing trick. That's how my clothes would disappear, too- Focus.
"Isn't there somewhere we can... I don't know, buy tricks?"
"Well, there is Will Goldstone's magic shop, but that's for professional conjurers, only."
Well, might as well throw in that praise he seems to love so much. He moved to stand to make his point come across as clearly as possible. "You, my Nefertiti fooling fellow, are about to perform on the West End stage!" His legs started moving on their own accord, and now he was standing less than a foot away from Aziraphale. "If that doesn't make you a professional conjurer, I don't know what does." His plan seemed to work a treat, since the angel's shoulders relaxed significantly and that glorious smile appeared back on his face. Crowley ignored the wobbling of his legs and reached for his coat. "Right then, off we go! We've got a show to prepare!"
While the salesman attempted to warn Aziraphale off the 'bullet catch', Crowley's mind raced. Yes, he wanted Aziraphale to be sure of his abilities, he was doing him a favour to get him out of potential trouble anyway, but was it worth it attempting a murderous trick? Surely, the angel could break his 'single miracle rule' just this once.
"You're going to need a 100% reliable marksman. Someone you can really trust. Otherwise, it's lethal."
Great, now we're going to have to find a volunteer Aziraphale trusts 100%. It's almost time for the performance, where are we going to find someone at the last second?
"Oh, I've got the perfect man for the job." Crowley's head turned to look at his friend. Whoever does he have in mind? How can he be sure they're trustworthy? This is his life we're talking about. Well, his corporation. But the paperwork would be a nightmare. Oh, you naive angel. "At least... I think I have- excuse me for one minute."
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's bicep for the second time that night, only this time he pulled him to the side.
"Angel, who is this trustworthy marksman you have in mind? I'm not sure all of this is worth it- I mean, how do you know they do have your best interest at heart? You know you have history of being too... trusting." Crowley's voice was hushed but it was evident he was struggling to keep his tone low, his nerves getting the better of him.
"It's you, you silly serpent!" Aziraphale replied, as if it should have been obvious.
"Me?! Aziraphale-"
"You do the shooting, I'll catch the bullet. I'll do all the hard bits!" Damn him and his smile I never seem to be able to say no to. "As a demon, you must have fired off a lot of guns, yeah?"
Crowley weighed his options quickly. There really was no time to find someone else to help. And, anyway, he really wasn't sure he would trust anyone else. He wasn't even sure he trusted himself. Who knows how long it would be before Aziraphale was issued a new body from Heaven if something went wrong? Though, apparently, this wouldn't be the time he finally said no to the angel. Not with his big blue eyes waiting expectantly for his reply.
"I'll do it..."
"Hoorah!!" Honestly, was the angel trying to kill him?
"But if anything goes wrong, can we agree that we break your one miracle limit? Neither of us wants the paperwork, do we?" Also, I wouldn't be able to live with myself had I known I was the reason you die- got discorporated. He offered his hand to shake on their agreement, and the angel wrapped his fingers around it tightly, holding it between both his hands and shaking it excitedly. One of these days, the demon thought. One of these days I'll hold your hand properly and never let go.
It was almost show time so they barely had time to stop by the bookshop and quickly riffle through the tricks guide, before they loaded everything in the Bentley and drove to the theatre.
"Right through here, sir, this is your dressing room. Please let us know if there's anything you require? Perhaps some beverages for you and your... partner?" The lady leading the pair of them to a little room at the back of the theatre eyed Crowley up and down, but he only faintly smiled in response.
"We're perfectly fine, thank you. I'll just- get changed now if you don't mind," Aziraphale gently placed an arm on the lady's shoulder to lead her out of the room and closed the door behind her. "Right then, do you see my bag anywhere- ah, there it is!"
Crowley stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room, the angel didn't even seem to notice while he rushed around him, getting himself ready.
Partner .
Without warning, Aziraphale began to undress himself, carefully hanging his jacket on the back of a chair. That broke Crowley out of his trance, alright.
"Wha- ngk- what a- are you doing?" It was 4 words, and yet the demon was breathless as he struggled to utter them.
"Oh, I prefer manually changing my clothes. Don't like the odd wrinkles my coat gets when I miracle it away. Besides, there's something quite satisfying about putting on perfectly fitting clothes for the first time, isn't there? Like two puzzle pieces clicking together." He seemed totally unbothered, now having removed all his clothing besides his undershirt and long undergarments. Crowley did his best not to let his eyes wonder on the angel's body, and failed spectacularly. Aziraphale seemed to notice, because a faint blush covered his face, which Crowley saw through the mirror placed right in front of him when he turned to grab his dress shirt.
A few excruciating minutes later, Aziraphale was dressed to the nines in a three-piece suit, securing his pocket watch and letting his bow-tie hang loose around his neck.
"Right, then, time to draw on the moustache," Aziraphale announced, a hint of trembling in his voice.
"Not using a miracle for that either, are you?" Crowley did his best to gather his composure realizing he hadn't moved since he stepped foot in the room, moving towards the little couch behind Aziraphale.
"Now, if that's not a frivolous miracle, I don't know what is," the angel replied, with a trace of humour as he quoted his boss' reprimand 150 odd years earlier. The demon snickered in response, as they both recalled their meeting in the Parisian prison back then.
After a couple frustrating attempts to draw his moustache on, Aziraphale huffed and puffed, grabbing another wet napkin to erase the lines on his face. "I'm afraid I might have to use a miracle anyway, my hands don't seem to want to cooperate so I can do this right. Unless-" his eyes met his friend's through the mirror and through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. "I wouldn't ask if this wasn't extremely important to me but- would you maybe- could you-"
"Want me to draw it on for you, angel?" Crowley asked in a gentle voice, mentally patting himself in the back for keeping it as calm and nonchalant as possible.
"If it's not too much trouble. You just have to try and make it as identical to this side as you can," he said and pointed to one side of his upper lip already drawn.
"Right, give me the pencil, then." Crowley took his glasses off before he stood from the couch and threw them on the now empty spot behind him. He knelt on Aziraphale's side, taking the pencil from him with one hand and holding the angel's chin with the other.
In hindsight, the demon regrettably discovered, agreeing to help Aziraphale with this wasn't his brightest moment. His hand probably shook more than his friend's as he tried to concentrate on drawing and not on the angel's breath fanning his hands and face or on his lips that were right. there. What on earth was he thinking?
It would probably surprise him to know, though, that this was exactly where Aziraphale wanted him. The angel in his turn, cherished every second his... friend's cold hand gently kept his head in place, while his eyes roamed over Crowley's face, as if trying to memorize every single detail from this new, extremely detailed angle.
He could kiss him right now, he realized and his pulse quickened, and he wouldn't even have to move more than a couple inches to do so. His hands burned with the desire to just cup Crowley's face in a similar manner as his own face was cupped and connect their lips.
A little demonic miracle of my own.
Oh, he had been blind. While the demon's hands were working on his moustache, he quickly, almost involuntarily went through every 'little demonic miracle' he could remember. Every time Crowley went out of his way to rescue him, to make him smile, or cater to his needs before he even realized there were any to begin with.
"Okay, I mean, this is as identical as it can be. I mean, nobody's going to be able to tell, anyway, with you all the way up on that stage."
No, don't take your hands off me, yet, I didn't have time to memorize the feeling of them against my own skin.
...was what Aziraphale wanted to exclaim. Instead, he turned his attention to the mirror behind him to check Crowley's work. It was almost impossible to focus, though, already missing the warmth of Crowley's body so close to his.
"Yes, thank you," their eyes met through the mirror again, "it'll do perfectly."
Crowley's Adam's apple bobbed visibly as he bit off snarking at Aziraphale's gratitude. "Yeah, no- no trouble. 'Twas nothing. Shut up." Well. A for effort.
He stood behind his friend while he started fumbling with his bow tie, attempting to hide the blush creeping up on his face but failing once again. There was nowhere to hide with that mirror in front of him.
Every time he tried to form that knot around his neck, like he had successfully done so many times before, though, he was left with a less than satisfactory result. Focusing on anything other than the thin, dark Duke behind him tracing his fingers' every move with those piercing yellow eyes of his appeared to be a near impossible task.
"I- I could help with that too, if you'd like." Damn it, his voice knew better than to betray him so many times in one single hour, coming out all hoarse and breathless again.
"You- you know how to tie a bow-tie?" The angel inquired, not even trying to hide his surprise as the demon got on his knees again, this time right in between the angel's thighs. This is a bad idea, he noted regrettably for the second time in 10 minutes.
"Yeah, I've- uh... Been practicing." Gotta know how it's tied so I can untie it from around your neck using my teeth, at some point. By now, he knew how to untie it in a matter of a second, with his eyes closed.
He probably would have said something along the lines of 'Practicing? Since when? Whatever for? You only ever wear ties, if that', had he been able to form actual words. All thoughts but one escaped his brain the second his legs spread involuntarily to welcome the demon in between them, as if it was rehearsed.
The demon's hands shook as they approached Aziraphale's bow tie, gently brushing his neck as they did so, oh, so accidentally.
Aziraphale's hairs rose in attendance as he felt his skin burn where Crowley brushed, more than appreciating the 'accidental' contact.
Right, well, it's now or never. When are we going to stand so close to each other, again?
Before he even had time to register his own thoughts, he could feel himself moving closer to the kneeling Duke in front of him and finally connecting their lips for a wonderful moment.
As soon as he realized that Crowley's hands were frozen around his bow-tie, squeezing it with his fingers, and his face was still, he quickly moved back as far as he could, considering the demon's hands were properly gripping him, not allowing him to move his head away more than a few inches.
"I'm- I'm terribly sorry- I don't know what came over me, I- It's, you know, the nerves, I'm- I'm ever so anxious about the performance-"
As if on cue, that lady from before was back, her sudden appearance briefly waking Crowley from his daze enough to let go of the damn bow-tie and stand back on his trembling feet.
"You go on in 5 minutes, dear, are you about ready?" She read the room in 2 seconds, because her eyebrows rose the moment she laid eyes on Crowley, then on Aziraphale and back on Crowley. "You might want to tie that, Mrs Henderson appreciates elegance. 5 minutes, no second more." With a last look between the two, she disappeared back outside, closing the door behind her.
Aziraphale considered the moment called for a not-so-frivolous miracle, and with a gentle snap of his fingers that called Crowley's attention back to him, his white bow-tie neatly took shape around his neck.
"Right, showtime!" He chuckled nervously and leaned behind statue-Crowley to grab his top-hat. "See you out there?"
Their eyes met for the first time and it took Crowley a few seconds to realize the angel was expecting some sort of a response.
"Ngk- yeah- I'll- see ya." He cleared his throat, in a pointless attempt to get rid of the hoarseness. Or some of it, anyway.
Aziraphale seemed content with the response and fled out of the room, his cape gently blowing a wave of air in Crowley's direction, a welcome chilly sensation in contrast with his burning body.
As if in a haze, he raised his right hand and traced his lips, trying to immortalize what little feeling of the angel's lips on his own remained.
Do that again, please.
The old lady was back again, making a habit of bringing Crowley back to the present.
"Excuse me, dear, the dancers want to change here, you can go out and watch your partner's performance, if you'd like." She was getting a bit too comfortable with that word. Partner.
With a nod, he picked his glasses back up, not in the right mind to worry about the old lady jumping to even more assumptions, and absent-mindedly let his legs lead him out with the rest of the audience, finding a spot for himself somewhere where his view of the angel could be uninterrupted.
He caught the end of the dance number, but he couldn't pay attention to any of the girls, seeing as an Aziraphale-shaped shadow made it's appearance in the wings, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking specifically for that exact shadow.
It's the nerves.
I'm ever so anxious about the performance.
Aziraphale's words kept replaying in his head, trying to make some sense of them.
I don't know what came over me.
Probably the same thing that came over me and I didn't grab probably the only chance to kiss you the way I've been dying to, he begrudgingly realized.
"And now, a master of misdirection, marvellous in his mysteriosity, with miracles at his fingertips, let us welcome the death defying prestidigitation, of the amazing Mister Fell!"
Crowley slowly clapped, managing to think about the trick they're about to perform together, instead of the tricks that kiss had done on him.
Aziraphale came out of the shadows, eyes wide, his nerves palpable.
Come on, you idiot, snap out of it.
Aziraphale's clumsy introduction didn't go as planned, his voice shaking and his eyes looking fleetingly across the room.
"You, sir, you look like you might have a steady hand!"
Him? Aziraphale was talking to him? Oh- The trick. Right. He had to raise his hand.
Come on, you idiot, snap out of it.
This time his remark was pointed at himself. He was about to perform a possibly lethal trick on Aziraphale and all he could focus on was one mistake of a kiss. The angel was clear. He didn't mean to do it.
"Here, we'll escort you up onto the stage."
Crowley did his very best to bring back some of his usual casual air about him, while he followed a young lady to the stage.
Once he was standing mere feet away from Aziraphale, in the safety of the shadows in the wings, he took out the trick guide once again to go over it one last time.
Aziraphale ran into yet another obstacle, failing to perform his opening act.
"What on earth is he playing at? I thought you said he was a magician."
"He is!" Something was wrong. The angel turned to glance at him nervously, after his second attempt at the actual, single miracle he was planning to perform failed.
He snapped his wrist a few times and was met with resistance each time, unable to help his fri- Aziraphale.
Hurriedly, he flipped back to the page explaining exactly what he had to do in order not to actually discorporate Aziraphale, seeing as they didn't have their powers to fall back on. He could sense the faintest smell of sulfur in the air but he knew there was no time to investigate further.
He could faintly hear Aziraphale's anxious voice in the background, as he called him upon the stage.
"A round of applause for this total stranger!"
He shoved the guide book back in his pocket before he pushed his glasses back on the top of his nose and joined Aziraphale under the spotlights. He flashed his teeth in the most tense grin he could muster, and shook the angel's outstretched hand. He felt his breath fan his cheek as he whispered in his ear.
"My miracles aren't working."
"Neither are mine," he informed Aziraphale.
He frantically looked around to try and figure out where the trace of sulfur came from, as he felt the angel hand him the rifle.
Was that a flash? There can't have been press there, can there?
He took the bullet from Aziraphale's hand and tried not to pay attention to his heartbeat picking up again, as he felt that familiar, by now, breath brush his face so gloriously.
"It's perfectly simple. Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear." I always aim for your mouth.
Wait, how does one load a rifle?
"I just squeeze that there, do I not?"
"Haven't you fired a gun before?" To be fair, Crowley never said he had any experience of the sort. Aziraphale just... Assumed. It was probably on him, though, that he didn't correct him.
"Not as such..." Trying to ignore the feeling at the pit of his stomach, he followed his instinct and successfully loaded the gun.
"Are you ready, sir?" Aziraphale called out to him. Ready as I'll ever be to discorporate the love of my life 20 minutes after he kissed me. "When you hear my signal, sir... Shoot." Granted, it was an emotionally charged situation to say the least, but Crowley did not appreciate the uncertainty in his voice.
Trust me.
It was quick, almost unnoticeable. But the angel needed him to trust him. This would work. This had to work. He raised the rifle.
"Aim..." The heart beating in his chest was almost louder than the drumroll provided to create the feeling of suspense. He could trust him. He had to. He noticed his hands shaking and took a deep breath trying to remain calm. "Fire!"
With a snap turn of the gun to the left of Aziraphale's head, he held his breath and pulled the trigger.
Aziraphale opened his eyes in shock and immense relief, after feeling the air current the bullet left behind shoot right past his ear. With a grin, he revealed the hidden bullet between his teeth.
They did it.
Spreading 'thanks' and waves to the crowd, he felt Crowley pull him back in the shadows.
He took a deep breath and dragged the demon back in the dressing room with a firm grasp on his wrist. They were almost holding hands.
Whatever that... stunt was about the last time they were in the room, Aziraphale was too ecstatic to comment on. Crowley let his body melt on the couch he was sitting earlier.
"But do you really think it went well?"
"Absolutely." The angel let out a delighted chuckle and grabbed a fluffy scarf from the pile behind him. "Chalk up a win for the side of the angels."
"Ahh!" he wrapped the scarf around his neck. "Woohoo!" He was way too excited to try and hide it. There was a knock on the door and without a second thought, he let them in. "Enter!"
His chuckle died in his throat and he quickly unwrapped the scarf from his neck when he saw the strange man walk in. The smell of sulfur almost suffocated them.
"Well, well, well! What have we here?"
"Sorry, have we met?" He didn't recall seeing him in the audience.
"Oh, no, we never had the pleasure, but," he turned towards Crowley who didn't spare more than a second to try and place a name to the face, "we have, haven't we?"
"Have we?"
"What do you mean 'have we'? You know we have!" He almost looked insulted. "We were in the same legion! Just before the Fall?" Crowley cocked his head to the side, feigning consideration. "Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?" The demon raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Well, I remember going into battle, I don't remember being there with you." This was almost entertaining. "Sorry," he added in pretend regret.
"I was right next to ya!"
The angel was now staring him down, finally connecting the pieces. So you're one of those who led Crowley to his Fall. Such a beautiful angel, he was. And you dragged him down with you.
"You, Crowley, are in breach of the Infernal Code. Consulting and collaborating with an angel..." Oh, I'd like to see you try and take him away from me, the angel all but said with a pointed raise of his eyebrow. "Fell the marvellous, aka..." he opened a little worn out book. "Azirapalala... Azirapapap..." Oh, this is ridiculous. "Aziphapal-ala."
It's not even a hard name.
"Aziraphale," the angel spoke for the first time in a while, his uncharacteristically low voice sending a chill right down Crowley's spine.
"Pure coincidence, I happened to be here, he asked for a volunteer..."
The short demon revealed a little magic guide book, similar to the one Crowley was consulting earlier, reciting the exact lines Crowley's eyes were unable to stop falling back on every time he went over the trick.
"Where did you get that booklet? It's only available to working professional magicians! Such as myself."
Crowley felt the sides of his mouth twitch in an attempt to hide a smile.
That's my boy. Finally, a little confidence.
The demon spoke in German and the men and woman from the church earlier walked in the room.
One of them roared while the demon handed Crowley a small envelope.
Crowley saw the moment Aziraphale handed him the rifle, and noted the anxiety written all over his face. He was certain the expression in the photograph mirrored his expression as he handed the photo to Aziraphale.
Banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace, with a dash of nutmeg.
Aziraphale handed the envelope back to the demon and hid the photograph in his pocket without anyone noticing.
"Enjoy your last night on earth."
The demon disappeared and the nazi-zombies fumbled out the door.
"Right, well... You heard the man, we shall enjoy one last night... on earth."
Aziraphale once again avoided the demon's eyes and started undressing himself.
Crowley didn't even try to hide how he checked him out this time. They were mere hours away from being attacked by a legion of Hell. Might as well make the best of them.
"What, are you just giving up? We have to do something!"
"Do what? I hardly believe we can escape a legion of demons, my dear. Do you?" he buttoned up his shirt and then found his beige tartan bow-tie and tied it around his neck, effortlessly.
"I- well- I don't know- but- what is it exactly that you're suggesting? Having dinner and wine as if nothing happened?"
"I have a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape I've been dying to taste for a while now. Sound interesting?"
"Angel, this is Hell we're talking about. They're on to us. You- you might..." He was standing so close to the angel again, if he wanted to he could rest his forehead on Aziraphale's. "You could Fall."
"Don't fear, darling. Everything is under control." With a quick smile towards the demon, he picked his bag up and made his way out to the car, ignoring Crowley's questions.
"Under control? It couldn't be any more out of our control! What are you planning? Aziraphale!"
"Listen, I need you to trust me." He placed his hand on Crowley's chest, who stilled immediately in front of him. "I'll tell you everything once we're back at my bookshop, alright?"
The demon nodded and almost reached for the angel when he pulled his hand back and got in the passenger seat.
They didn't say a word to each other during the whole ride and soon they were standing back in the bookshop.
The angel got to work immediately, materializing a small table covered with a white linen tablecloth and two chairs almost across from each other. From a cupboard in the back of the room, he brought back a candlestick and placed it in the middle of the table before snapping his fingers so the edges burst into tiny flames.
"Now, let me see where I stacked my- aha!" He emerged victorious from his wine collection with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. "I can't tell you to what lengths I had to go to to get my hands on one of these." He placed everything on the table and used a corkscrew to open the bottle. "Are you just going to stand there? Take a seat!"
Crowley wordlessly took his coat off and sat across from Aziraphale.
Candle-lit dinner?
Since when were they drinking wine under the soft light of candles? Aziraphale must have been in a good mood.
"So- yeah- the- you said- how is it under control, then?" He struggled to find the right words as the angel poured a generous amount of wine in his glass.
"Well, let's just say that when your... friend presents his so-called evidence to your boss, they will find a flier for the Ladies of Camelot, instead of that lovely picture." He handed him said picture and hid his smile behind his glass.
Crowley stared at the picture and struggled to make sense of anything.
"How? There was a miracle blocker in the room, I saw you put it back in the envelope!" He downed his wine in two big gulps and gave the picture back to him.
"Who needs a miracle when you've had private lessons from the great prof. Hoffman himself? I simply say the magic words. 'Banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace, with a dash of nutmeg', and-" the picture fell almost hilariously from his hand with no trace of magic. Crowley raised his eyebrow and eyed the blushing angel. "Well, I got it right the time that mattered." He leaned over to pick the photo up and looked at it fondly.
"You really are... Terrible at magic. Shall we retire the act?"
Trying not to let his disappointment show, he hesitantly agreed. "Perhaps. Might be for the best."
He set the picture aside and picked up the bottle to refill Crowley's glass.
"I- uh... I knew you would come through for me," he was smiling, relived now that they were safe. "You always do."
"Well, you said 'trust me'." What was the angel getting at? He knew he didn't do well with gratitude.
"And you did." Like you do every time. You're always there. No matter what. "You could have walked away... If you were truly as evil as you like to paint yourself, you would've done."
I swear, if you call me nice-
"Naaah... That's the trouble with you lot, you tend to see things in black and white. Sometimes, you've just gotta blur the edges."
Aziraphale considered that for a second.
"Well, maybe there is something to be said for... Shades of grey...?" He offered his glass in cheers and Crowley clinked with his own.
"Well, shades of... dark grey..."
"Shades of... very light grey, I rather fancy."
They both settled into a comfortable silence, much needed after the events of the day.
Had you told Crowley he would have to rescue Aziraphale right under the gunpoint of a Nazi, I mean, he wouldn't be surprised, the angel kept getting himself in trouble over and over, but no way did he expect everything else to happen.
The angel kissed him. It wasn't a dream, this time, it was real. He reached over and kissed him.
Sure, he took it back right after it happened, but Crowley already knew now that he had a taste of the angel's lips he would never be able to forget it. But he didn't know what to say about it. Did he have to say something? Did Aziraphale expect him to be mad or bothered? How could he assure him any kisses from him were always welcome without sounding pathetic?
As if he read his thoughts, Aziraphale broke the silence.
"I have to tell you... Today was by far the best day I had in a while." He played with the stem of his glass, avoiding to look at Crowley.
"What, getting almost discorporated twice in one day wasn't on the top of your Bingo card, was it?" The demon attempted to get rid of the angel's stiffness with a joke. He thought it must have worked, when he chuckled gently and briefly looked up.
"Well, no, but that- that wasn't what I was referring to."
"I know..." With a dry gulp, Crowley forced himself to ask the question that had been running around in his head for hours. "What... What was that about... Earlier?"
The angel's mouth took different shapes, as if trying to start a sentence with a few different ways and changing his mind each time.
"I- apologize, i-if I made you... Uncomfortable, in any way-"
"No," Crowley was quick to interject, but he didn't manage to say it as loud as he would have liked.
"Pardon?"
He took a deep breath. "You didn't... Make me uncomfortable. I was jus'- surprised... 'S all."
"Pleasantly?" The angel was actively avoiding Crowley's gaze now. He pretended the bottle next to him was oh-so interesting.
"You could say that." There was no point in hiding it. If all he could manage to do was help Aziraphale not be embarrassed, then he would give it his best. Anything to make him comfortable.
"Oh. Oh, good." He nodded a couple times and moved his glass to his lips to take a much needed swig.
"I wouldn't... be opposed to... I mean- 'f you wanted- if- if you ever felt the... urge, again, I'd like you to... do that... again."
Aziraphale almost chocked on his wine, coughing furiously, trying to make sure he actually understood what his friend was implying.
"You- really?!"
"Really. I mean- only if you- you don't have to-"
"I do. I want to."
Crowley's eyes widened behind the safety of his lenses, protecting even a bit the cool image he was trying to present.
"Okay. Good. Anytime." He nodded way more than would be considered cool.
From the side of his eye, he noticed the angel drag his chair closer to his, bringing his glass with him once the chairs were touching. Their knees brushed up against each other when he straightened up in his chair, and it sent a glorious chill in Crowley's spine.
"How about now?" Aziraphale hesitantly took Crowley's hand in his and gently ran his thumb over the cold knuckles.
"'S cool with me. Yeah. I could- I'd like that." He cleared his throat and wet his lips nervously, noting how Aziraphale traced the movement with his eyes. He felt drunk. Not bad drunk, but he felt light-headed and his arms went numb.
With a shy smile, Aziraphale brought his free hand up to cup the Demon's jaw, just like he did to him earlier when he drew his moustache on.
"May I?" He asked, running a finger over the arm of Crowley's glasses. When he nodded, the angel gently tugged on them, and placed them on the table. Their eyes met and they both smiled, the demon wetting his lips again, this time Aziraphale's eyes lingering there as he leaned in a tad bit closer.
Crowley's breath quickened and his body moved on its own accord when it brought him forward in his chair, reducing the distance between them in half.
Aziraphale's fingers this time settled on his chin, holding it in between his thumb and index finger, slowly tilting it up before once again connecting their lips together.
It was nothing like the first time. Well, Crowley's hand did squeeze again, his hand this time instead of his bow-tie, but his free hand came up to cup the side of Aziraphale's head, putting a little more pressure to the kiss.
Their lips started moving against each other, at first hesitantly, both worried they might overstep and make the other uncomfortable, but after a few seconds it was clear neither of them would have any objections about any of this.
Crowley's hand moved further back on Aziraphale's neck, gently tugging on the short hairs there, causing a glorious whine to escape the angel's lips. Crowley pulled back in surprise and looked Aziraphale in the eye.
The look in the demon's expression left no doubt about how much he was enjoying every second of this. His lips were parted and glistening wonderfully, his yellow eyes blown wide to the point where they were almost black with a thin, yellow ring around the core and a furious blush that almost matched his hair had covered the entirety of his face.
Goal for the night: Find every possible way to elicit that sound from the angel.
"You are so beautiful, darling, you have no ide-"
The demon interrupted him by kissing him passionately, no trace of uncertainty this time, already getting down to business to complete his goal.
He slipped his tongue in the angel's mouth, finding the second way to cause that wonderful sound.
Only, this time, it was inching towards a moan. That caused the flame within Crowley burst into a huge fire, as he freed his hand from Aziraphale's and brought it up to cup the other side of his face and this time pull a little stronger at the hairs.
Same whine, a little more needy, but the angel's hands moved to grasp at his lapels, pulling him even closer.
Noted.
Before he realized what was happening he felt the angel pull back a little- no- he pulled... up. And dragged him with him from the lapels.
"Wha- where are you going?" He was breathless. They barely kissed for two minutes and he was almost passed out.
"I thought we'd be more comfortable... On the couch?"
He needn't tell Crowley twice, he jumped up and grabbed Aziraphale's hand, dragging him to the couch. With a loud puff, he fell on it, this time gently tugging at Aziraphale's hand to lay on top of him. The angel obliged, slowly situating himself on top of Crowley, trying not to hurt him in any way.
"Is this okay?" he asks, one hand moving behind Crowley's head to hold some of his weight off him, the other gently caressing his chest and neck.
"Better than I ever dreamt." With a smile, he leaned up and kissed him again, relishing the feeling of their bodies together.
After what felt like too long and too little at the same time, they both pulled back and Aziraphale rested his forehead on Crowley's.
"Well, I don't know about you, but that wasn't on my bingo card for the night. Not even for the century," Crowley said with a lazy smile. He couldn't for one second hide how he felt so happy he might as well be floating on air.
"I wanted to kiss you the second you handed me those books," Aziraphale admitted, before placing a gentle kiss on Crowley's jaw.
"Wha- really? That's all I had to do to get you to kiss me? Save your precious books from an explosion?" he tried to be humorous but the angel's lips were nearing his neck and he couldn't really focus.
"It wasn't exactly about the books, though. It was more about how in the midst of it all, when even I forgot about them for a while, you used a miracle to get them safe to me. As if saving me wouldn't be enough." He lifted his head back up to look into the demon's eyes and show him just how much he appreciated it.
"It was a little bit about the books, too, though, wasn't it?" he smirked up at him, loving how he blushed even more.
"Okay, maybe a little bit. It's the thought that counts the most, is what I'm saying."
Crowley slowly shook his head from side to side and beamed up at the angel.
"I love you," he whispered. "Have loved you for quite a while. Might as well know about it, y'know, just in case." His heart almost jumped out of his chest when Aziraphale's smile only grew fonder.
"I love you too, dearest. Didn't always know. But always have. And always will."