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“I made a decision this week,” Crowley announced, settling onto the couch next to Nina. It was their weekly reality tv night, where they got together in the flat above the bookshop, drank wine, and watched the trashiest reality tv they could find (the current choice was Love Island, because Crowley loved nothing more than making fun of the poor saps who thought they would find love on a reality tv show). It also doubled as a chance to gossip (usually about the fact that Crowley was hopelessly in love with Aziraphale).
“And what decision is that?” Nina asked, handing him his glass of wine.
“I think…I think maybe it’s time to…talk to Aziraphale,” Crowley replied. “Tell him…everything.”
“Everything everything?” Nina asked incredulously. “What brought this on?”
“We’re basically living together now, and it’s killing me,” Crowley admitted. “Hell could take some pointers. Make people live with the person they’re in love with. It’s the most intense torture I’ve ever experienced.”
“And you call Aziraphale dramatic,” Nina teased. “But you know how I feel about your entire thing . You should’ve told him ages ago. So if you’ve finally decided to, I’ll support that. How are you going to do it, do you think? Dinner at the Ritz?”
“We do dinner at the Ritz all the time,” Crowley replied. “I don’t…if it…if it goes poorly, I don’t want to taint what we have.”
“It won’t go poorly, but go on,” Nina said. Crowley looked down at his glass of wine, swirling it slowly.
“He’d probably like it if I made dinner,” he said quietly.
“So you’ll invite him to your place and make him dinner, then confess that you’re pathetically in love with him and ask him to marry you?” Nina said, a touch playfully. Crowley rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think marriage is our end goal,” he said. “Just…being together. For the rest of our lives.” They heard a sudden crash behind them, and they both turned to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway, eyes wide. There was a broken bottle of wine at his feet.
“Oh dear,” he said. Crowley paled, jumping up from the couch. His wine spilled across the floor, though he barely noticed, too focused on Aziraphale.
“H-how much…how much did you hear?” he demanded, hands shaking. Aziraphale wrung his hands.
“Not…not much,” he replied. “Nothing, I mean. It’s…are you…are you interested in someone?”
“Ngk.” Crowley had half a mind to deny it, but it was clear from Aziraphale’s reaction that he had heard that much, at least. “Yes?”
“Oh. That’s…that’s good.” Aziraphale looked…upset? Crowley tried very hard not to analyze that.
“Nina was helping me figure out how to…how to tell them,” Crowley explained. He glanced at Nina, who stood up.
“I need to go get supplies to clean up your spills,” she said, sliding past Aziraphale and out of the room, leaving them alone. Aziraphale watched her go, then looked at Crowley.
“Who is it?” he asked. Crowley opened his mouth. Everything in him was shouting at him to say you, it’s always been you and it always will be you.
What came out instead was “No one you know.” He silently cursed himself for being a coward. He always was, when it came to the important things.
“Oh. Is it…is it a demon?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley made a face.
“Why the fuck would I be interested in a demon?” he asked. “Look, can we…can we please not analyze it? I just…it’s…ngk.”
“Of course. My apologies.” Aziraphale fidgeted a little, looking down at the broken bottle at his feet. “I…I’ll leave you alone.”
“Angel, wait.” Crowley walked over, carefully avoiding the glass. “I…I’m not…” He paused. “Would you help me practice my cooking?”
“You…want to practice cooking?” Aziraphale repeated. “Why?”
“I just…feel like it might be useful to know how to do?” Crowley silently cursed himself again. He was a demon of temptation! He was supposed to be good at talking. More importantly, he’s supposed to be good at lying. And he always has been, except for when it comes to Aziraphale.
“Is this…for the person you like?” Aziraphale asked. Finally, an easy question, Crowley thought.
“Yes,” he replied immediately. Because it was , in a way, for Aziraphale. Because teaching him how to cook something would probably make Aziraphale happy. Aziraphale loved teaching Crowley things.
“Oh. Alright. I can…I can help you with that.” Aziraphale swallowed, and Crowley gave what he hoped was a grateful smile.
“Figure everything out?” Nina asked as she re-entered the room. Aziraphale gave a smile that Crowley could tell was forced.
“I’m going to help Crowley practice cooking for his…paramour,” he replied. Crowley made a face.
“I don’t…I don’t have a paramour ,” he complained. “I have someone I might someday be…something to if I ever stop being a coward.”
“My dear, you’re the bravest person I know,” Aziraphale told him. Crowley abruptly turned away, hoping Aziraphale hadn’t seen his blush.
“How does…how does tomorrow sound?” he asked, voice breaking slightly.
“Any time you’d like,” Aziraphale replied. “I should be going now, though. Maggie’s expecting me. I only came back because I realized you’d left your wine in the car and I didn’t want you to miss it. I…suppose you’ll be missing it now anyway.” He looked down at the rapidly-growing stain on the floor. Crowley grunted a little, then waved his hand and sent the wine back into the bottle and onto the table.
“I’ll…see you later then, angel.” He gave Aziraphale a weak smile, then took his seat on the couch again.
“Later, Aziraphale,” Nina added. She plopped down next to Crowley, giving him a meaningful look. As soon as they heard the Bentley’s engine start up on the street outside, Crowley let out an explosive sigh.
“Don’t even start,” he said warningly.
“Did you make up a fictitious boyfriend?” she asked. Crowley groaned.
“I panicked,” he admitted. “Aziraphale was asking questions and I…I told him he doesn’t know the person I’m interested in. All he knows for sure is it’s definitely not a demon. And that I want to learn how to cook for him. Which…isn’t technically a lie. I do want to be good at cooking for Aziraphale. He’d probably love it if I cooked for him.”
“You’re pathetic,” Nina teased. “And hopeless. What are you going to do when he asks more questions about this fictitious person?”
“Why would he ask questions?” Crowley asked. Nina raised an eyebrow.
“Because that’s what you do when someone in your life is suddenly interested in a new person,” she replied. “You don’t think you’d have questions if Aziraphale came to you out of the blue and said he was interested in dating someone?”
“Aziraphale spent most of the nineteenth century in gentleman’s clubs and befriending every author he could find,” Crowley replied. “Oscar Wilde wrote entire poems about him. I’m more surprised that he’s never dated anyone before now.”
“Aziraphale had a fling with Oscar Wilde?” Nina asked.
“Ehhh, not…as far as I know, they were never romantic or…or anything,” Crowley replied. “Just good friends. But…but Aziraphale’s been ‘good friends’ with a lot of gay men over the years. It’s only a matter of time before one of them decides to ask him for more, and he…he likes people, so he’d probably say yes, even if it didn’t last very long.”
“I don’t think he would,” Nina said, relaxing against the back of the couch. “I think he’s too hung up on you to ever date someone else.”
“You and I still disagree on that,” Crowley said quietly. “Anyway, I think I’m…this is too much, tonight. We’re here to get drunk and watch people pretend to fall in love, not…not whatever this has been.”
“Right.” Nina leaned against Crowley’s side, picking up the remote and browsing through until she found Love Island. Crowley poured himself a new glass of wine, then settled in to watch as well.
Crowley waited until early afternoon the next day before approaching Aziraphale. He hadn’t wanted to seek the angel out too early in the day and seem overeager. He had simply spent most of the day in the spare bedroom, pretending to nurse a hangover while psyching himself up for hours of cooking lessons.
When he finally went to find Aziraphale, the angel was in the bookshop, reading a book and humming softly to himself. Crowley paused for a moment, simply taking him in. Sometimes, he was struck all over again by how beautiful Aziraphale was. How much Crowley’s entire being ached to be near him.
“Morning, angel,” he greeted. Aziraphale looked up at him, smiling.
“It’s two pm, dear,” he pointed out. Crowley shrugged a little.
“Morning is whenever you choose to get out of bed,” he said. “I’m ready for that cooking lesson now.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Aziraphale set his book down, moving almost too quickly, and Crowley frowned.
“Unless…if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” he said. Aziraphale walked over, patting Crowley’s arm.
“No, no. It’s no trouble.” He walked past Crowley and led the way to the kitchen in his flat. “What do you want to cook?”
“Ngk.” Crowley hadn’t really considered that. What sort of meal would Aziraphale consider romantic? Crowley could hardly ask him without digging himself deeper into the hole he’d already dug.
“How about we start with a simple stew?” Aziraphale suggested. “It’s not fancy, but it’s relatively simple, and you can do other things while it cooks.”
“Stew?” Crowley repeated. “Isn’t that for…traveling? We used to eat stew when I was a knight.”
“It’s rustic,” Aziraphale admitted. “But it pairs well with a good wine, and it’s hearty. A good stew can warm the heart.”
“Okay.” Crowley watched as Aziraphale began to collect ingredients, making a list on a piece of paper of extra things they’d need. Once the list was complete, Crowley glanced at it and waved his hand, miracling up what they needed. Aziraphale let out an exasperated sigh.
“We could have gone to the store,” he pointed out.
“We could have,” Crowley agreed. “But I don’t feel like people today.” Aziraphale chuckled, then turned to get out two cutting boards and two knives, which he set side-by-side on the counter.
“Step one, we chop all the vegetables,” he told Crowley. “You have chopped vegetables before, haven’t you?”
“Not…as such, no,” Crowley replied. “I only eat when I’m with you. Why would I have ever chopped anything?”
“Oh.” Aziraphale smiled a little, looking away, and Crowley could have sworn he saw him blush. He frowned, thinking back through what he’d said, trying to figure out what might have embarrassed the angel enough to seep into his corporation.
“Come here,” Aziraphale continued after a moment. “You can chop the celery. That’s easy. I’ll do the carrots.”
“Okay.” Crowley took a knife and stood at one of the cutting boards. Aziraphale took a stalk of celery and went to the cutting board next to him.
“Like this,” he said softly, showing Crowley how to chop the celery into even pieces for the stew. Crowley watched him carefully, then took his own celery stalk and started to cut. Aziraphale grabbed the carrots and stood next to him, going to work on chopping them into even pieces.
After a few minutes, Crowley became aware of the fact that Aziraphale was humming softly as he worked. At first, Crowley thought it was a mindless tune, but then the melody took shape in his head, dragging a memory up from the locked box he’d placed it in, of the two of them dancing in the bookshop to a soft radio. Almost without thinking, he began to sing the lyrics.
“ Heart and soul,
I fell in love with you
Heart and soul,
The way a fool would do .”
Aziraphale’s voice joined his on the next line.
“Madly,
Because you held me tight,
And stole a kiss in the night.”
Crowley stopped singing, lifting his eyes to look at Aziraphale, who was staring back at him. The air was suddenly charged with something Crowley couldn’t identify. For a long moment, they simply held each other’s gaze, and then Aziraphale slowly put his knife down, gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles turned white. Crowley let out a shaky breath. The tension was weighing on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“Angel?” he asked, his voice wavering with uncertainty.
“Do you remember the night we danced to that?” Aziraphale asked after a moment, not looking up.
“Yes,” Crowley replied softly.
“You kissed me,” Aziraphale said.
“You ran away.” Crowley set his own knife down, trying desperately to figure out where Aziraphale was going with this.
“I was scared,” Aziraphale admitted. “And I…” He clenched his eyes shut, then let out a shaky breath. “I have no right to ask you this, but please don’t…I-I can’t…” He choked on his words, and Crowley frowned.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“I can’t see you with somebody else, Crowley,” Aziraphale finally said. Crowley’s frown deepened.
“Wot?” He shifted to try to catch Aziraphale’s gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“This…this person you’re interested in. I can’t…I can’t do this. I can’t help you court someone else.” Aziraphale turned his head, avoiding Crowley’s eyes.
“The…oh.” Crowley had almost forgotten about his lie, actually. He’d been much too distracted. His first instinct was to lie again, but with how devastated Aziraphale looked, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Angel, there is no such person. Or, well…there is someone I like, but it’s not…that’s not-” He cut himself off with a groan.
“What?” Aziraphale finally looked at him, eyes wide. It was Crowley’s turn to avert his gaze now.
“I…Nina and I were…were talking, and then you were there, and I…I panicked,” he admitted quietly. “So I…I lied. Or…depending on how you look at it, I never…I never lied , per say. I just…didn’t tell you the truth? Or…or the whole truth, anyway.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said warningly. “I’m not…I’m not in the mood for this. I don’t like being toyed with.”
“I’m not-” Crowley groaned again. “For fuck’s sake. I’m in love with you , you idiot. Nina and I were talking about you ! Everything I said was about you ! But you…you heard, and I panicked, and I…I know I’m not…I’m a demon, and you’re an angel, and-” Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale suddenly crashing into him, grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him desperately. Crowley’s eyes widened and he flailed for a moment, then wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and clung to him as he returned the kiss just as desperately. Crowley backed up slightly, pulling Aziraphale with him, until his back hit the counter. They broke apart with a gasp when one of the cutting boards fell into the sink next to it with a loud clatter. They rested their foreheads together, both panting softly.
“My dear, dear boy,” Aziraphale whispered. “I thought I’d lost my chance with you.”
“Never, angel,” Crowley replied. Aziraphale let out a happy little laugh, relaxing his hands on Crowley’s chest.
“You wanted to learn to cook for me?” he asked, pulling back enough to meet Crowley’s gaze. “Why?”
“I…I wanted to tell you how I feel,” Crowley admitted. “Now that you’re free from Heaven, I thought…maybe I’d try again? But I couldn’t…it took me years to feel comfortable coming back here after last time. I couldn’t ruin any of our dinner spots. So I thought…if I could learn to cook, I could…talk to you in my flat. I already hate it there, so it wouldn’t be a problem if…if things went wrong.”
“Oh, my sweet.” Aziraphale leaned in to peck Crowley’s lips. “I’m so, so sorry about how I reacted in forty-one. I never should have done that to you.”
“No, I…I should have talked to you instead of…” Crowley trailed off, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s again. “And I don’t want to…I want to be here, in this moment, I don’t…I don’t want to think about things going wrong.”
“Alright.” Aziraphale slid his hands down to Crowley’s hips. “Do you want me to kiss you some more?”
“That would be nice,” Crowley replied. Aziraphale captured Crowley’s lips in another kiss, this one far gentler and more tender. Crowley clung to Aziraphale, opening his mouth to him and whimpering softly when Aziraphale explored with his tongue. Aziraphale pushed him back gently, until he was pinned between Aziraphale and the counter.
Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley’s hips and spun them both around, then lifted Crowley up onto a clean spot on the island. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, pulling him in to stand between his legs. Once Crowley was settled, Aziraphale deepened the kiss again, and Crowley clung to him. Aziraphale eventually broke the kiss, nibbling and kissing along Crowley’s jaw. Crowley gasped, clenching his hands on Aziraphale’s back.
“Zira,” he breathed. Aziraphale nosed against Crowley’s neck, then traced Crowley’s vein with his tongue. Crowley tightened his hold on Aziraphale, breath hitching.
Suddenly, Aziraphale was pulling back, cupping Crowley’s cheeks with both hands. Crowley leaned into the touch, sniffling. He hadn’t even realized he’d been trembling, tears covering his cheeks, until Aziraphale had pulled back.
“Darling?” Aziraphale asked quietly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Crowley replied. He reached up with a shaking hand, wiping at his eyes. “I just…I-“
“You’re overwhelmed,” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley nodded.
“But don’t stop?” he asked. Aziraphale kissed his brow.
“I’m not going to keep going when you’re overwhelmed and shaking,” he said. “What do you need?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” Crowley tugged Aziraphale close again, tucking his head into Aziraphale’s neck. “Hold me?”
“Of course.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, cupping the back of his head with one hand. “It’s alright, my love. I’ve got you.” Crowley sobbed, clinging to Aziraphale. Aziraphale made soft, soothing noises, stroking Crowley’s hair.
“I didn’t…I didn’t expect this to go like this,” Crowley murmured after a while.
“Like what?” Aziraphale asked.
“Expected you to want me gone,” Crowley replied, tightening his hold reflexively.
“Never, my dear boy,” Aziraphale told him firmly. “There has never been a time in all our years that I have truly wanted you gone. I loved you as an angel-“ Crowley started to raise his head to respond, but Aziraphale held him still, hurrying to continue. “-and I fell in love with you again as a demon. I cannot imagine my life without you, my beloved.”
Crowley shivered, then pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s neck. He waved his hand, and the old phonograph in the other room started playing.
Heart and soul
I fell in love with you
Heart and soul
The way a fool would do
Madly
Because you held me tight
And stole a kiss in the night