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After the world didn’t end, Aziraphale found himself in something of a quandary.
At first, he had merely assumed that everything would continue in more or less the same fashion. He and Crowley had been best friends for an awfully long time, after all. They would go to the park and feed the ducks, go out to lunch together, spend evenings debating all sort of fascinating topics.
And indeed, they did all of that. They also went shopping together, enjoyed picnics in the country until it got too cold, and often cooked dinner together.
It was very nearly a perfect life. But much to Aziraphale’s alarm, he found that he wanted something else. Something he wasn’t sure how to describe.
It didn’t seem to be romance. He loved Crowley dearly, but had long since accepted that neither of them seemed to fit into that particular human box. Nor did he desire to take Crowley to bed, although the thought of kissing was somewhat interesting.
He contemplated it as they made pasta together, his heart aching. Crowley seemed fully content, ready with a quick smile and cheerful laugh. Whatever the nature of the new relationship that Aziraphale wanted, Crowley did not seem to share that longing.
“Mighta overdone it with the pasta,” Crowley said, sheepish. He showed Aziraphale the pot. “It’s, er, overflowing.”
“Oh dear, yes. I’m afraid your enthusiasm may soon flood the entire shop with noodles.” Amused, Aziraphale stirred the sauce once more, then fetched a mesh strainer. “There, that ought to be big enough. I suppose we shall have plenty of leftovers.”
“I mean, or we could have quadruple servings.”
Aziraphale chuckled and patted Crowley’s arm. “I admit, I have a considerable appetite. But not that considerable.”
“Nnnh, yeah. Me neither.” Sighing, Crowley poured the pasta into the strainer and watched as the water drained away. “Maybe I should get one of those gadget thingies. The pasta measuring ones. I saw one on Tumblr the other day that was like, dinosaur shaped.”
Aziraphale was only vaguely aware of all the web sites that Crowley talked about. Sometimes, Crowley showed him funny pictures or videos, for some definition of “funny”. “That’s nice, my dear. But perhaps I’ll simply give you a smaller pot next time.”
“Oh.” Crowley looked at the pot again. “Right, that would work.”
They joked and teased each other as they prepared the meal, but the ache in Aziraphale’s chest grew increasingly painful. This was so very close to his ideal world. Why couldn’t he simply be satisfied with that?
It wasn’t until much, much later in the night, after Crowley had driven off in the Bentley, that Aziraphale realized he wanted two things. Firstly, he didn’t want Crowley to drive off anymore. It would be so much more fun to live together.
And, secondly…
But no. Crowley certainly wouldn’t want to move in together. He valued his space and independence far too much.
And he certainly wouldn’t want to be partners, would he?
Aziraphale sighed heavily, gazing out the window as the Bentley swished into the night. No, it was likely best not to bring anything up. He couldn’t risk damaging their friendship, after all.
---
“You’re being ridiculous,” Crowley said to himself, gazing into the mirror. “Can’t you ever, for once in your blasted life, be content?”
No. No, of course he couldn’t be content. It was always in his nature to push too hard, to go too fast. And if he went too fast this time, if he pushed for a change, he might scare Aziraphale off forever.
Snarling, he toweled his hair dry and snapped his fingers. He took another glance at himself in the mirror, this time to make sure his outfit and hair looked okay. Then he stormed out to his plant room.
He’d hoped that some time to think in the shower would clear his mind, chase away the longing that circled him endlessly. A longing to belong, to settle down, to have a home.
“Yeah, that’s really demonic,” Crowley muttered. “Terrific job. Really impressive.”
He’d been very wrong about the shower. It had only distilled the thoughts. And looking up loads of stuff online about types of relationships just worsened through longing for one of his own.
Different approach, then.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Crowley snarled at a philodendron that was growing towards the window. “You’re getting plenty of sunlight right where you are. Don’t get greedy. You should be satisfied with what you have!”
The plant shuddered in fear, but it didn’t turn away from the light.
Crowley sighed heavily and left the plants to their own devices. It would be too hypocritical to yell at them right now. Especially since he had just decided to go head towards the primary light source in his own life, and damn the consequences.
The drive to the bookshop seemed even faster than usual, Crowley’s heart beating too quickly. But he’d been stewing over this for long enough. Maybe it was best to get it out in the open.
Crowley bought two chocolatey coffees across the street and then stormed into the shop. “Angel?”
Aziraphale looked up from a novel and beamed at him. “Oh! Hello, my dear fellow. You’re here rather earlier than usual.”
“Brought you a coffee.” Crowley shoved it at him, then hesitated. What the deuce was he thinking? “Er, a coffee and a question, actually.”
“Oh my. Well, all right.” Nervousness flirted through Aziraphale’s eyes, but he took the coffee. “What sort of question?”
Crowley’s mouth went dry, but he forced himself to continue. “So. I know you don’t do romance. Well, outside of reading romance stories and stuff. Er. But how do you feel about…”
He fumbled for words, all the lines he’d rehearsed in the shower deserting him. Oh shit. This was not good.
Aziraphale put the coffee down and rose. “My dear, are you quite all right? Did something—”
“Relationships,” Crowley blurted. “How do you feel about relationships? Other than romantic ones?”
The concerned look on Aziraphale’s face wrenched into something else. A confusion, maybe, like a duck discovering that a pond had been remodeled. “There are… there are types other than romantic ones?”
“Yeah. Kind of a lot.” Crowley gulped. He’d read through way too many different articles and Tumblr posts over the past few weeks, trying to make sense of his feelings. “Anyway, if… if I asked you if you wanted to be in one—maybe a queerplatonic one, maybe something else, I dunno—would you be into that?”
Oh, Somebody. He sounded ridiculous.
But Aziraphale gave a shaky smile and reached out, tentatively taking his hand. “I-I do think I might. I’ve been wanting… something, but I hadn’t the faintest idea how to describe such a thing. And I thought you were happy as things are.”
“I am. Always happy to be with you, angel,” Crowley said, and then winced at himself for sounding so damn soppy. “But I’d be even happier if we, y’know. Were a thing.”
That sounded even more ridiculous, so ridiculous that he might have fled if Aziraphale hadn’t been clutching his hand. As it was, he just stood there, cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly. “Yes. Goodness, I do like the sound of that very much. One question, though.”
Relief rushed through Crowley, his heartrate finally slowing. “Big questions fan, me.”
“I know.” Aziraphale beamed again, then hesitated. “What do we do, in such a relationship?”
Crowley considered that for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever we like. As long as we’re together, I’m happy.”
That was another statement that he’d normally be really embarrassed about, but Aziraphale giggled with delight and dragged him into a tight hug. As Crowley pressed his face into the solid shoulder, he smiled. It was impossible to be too embarrassed while Aziraphale hugged him like that.
---
So far, it turned out that doing whatever they liked was quite similar to their ordinary routine. They’d drank coffee together, and talked for an awfully long time while sitting on the sofa together.
This time, though, they held hands. It wasn’t entirely a novel experience, but it was a comfortable one. And being able to express affection more without worrying about going too far relieved much of the pressure on Aziraphale’s chest.
His heart no longer ached. That was it. There were no barriers between him and Crowley now. Well, except one, and it was one he would be willing to forgo as long as he had this.
“D’ya wanna hit the Ritz, or order takeaway?” Crowley asked as the hour neared lunch. “Honestly, I’m pretty comfortable right here.”
“As am I, my dear.” Aziraphale could have happily sat on the sofa like this for several days, indulging in comfortable, casual touch. “Takeaway would be nice. I’d like to just stay here. And actually, um…”
Ordinarily, he would have twisted his hands together. But one hand was still tangled with Crowley’s, so he contented himself with fidgeting at his waistcoat.
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” Crowley grinned at him. “If I can bring up the whole relationship thingy, you can say whatever’s on your mind.”
“Well, it-it might be a bit pushy.”
Crowley’s grin softened to something deeply fond and loving. “You can’t go too fast for me, Aziraphale. I’m all in.”
“Oh…” Blushing, Aziraphale ducked his head. “Well, it’s just that I don’t like it very much when you leave for the night. I’d be, um, much happier if you stayed. Moved in, I mean.”
“Gosh.” Crowley pulled back a little, eyes wide. But after a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. I’d be happier too. I love being here.”
“Excellent! It’s settled, then.” And already, Aziraphale found himself picturing a different sort of home, perhaps somewhere with a garden. But that was a conversation for later, because there was one more thing he wanted right now. “Also, um. How do you feel about kissing?”
Frowning a little, Crowley tilted his head. “Hn, I dunno. I don’t think I feel anything about it. But I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“I’d like that.” Heart beating a little too quickly, Aziraphale leaned in.
Their lips met in a gentle, careful press. It sent a rush of quiet contentment through Aziraphale, the same sort of way he felt when they held hands or hugged. Satisfaction, perhaps, and a deep sense of belonging.
Pleased, he smiled at Crowley as they drew apart, and then snuggled close beside him. Crowley brushed another light kiss to the top of his head, and they sat together in peaceful silence.
There were an awful lot of possibilities ahead, and so many different things they might try. Together, they would build a relationship that was a perfect fit for them both.