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The demon raised his glass, the sound of it clinking with Aziraphale’s filling the comfortable silence, contrasting to the chatter surrounding tables near their own.
Crowley huffed, lips curling up into a smirk.
“Cheers, angel.” He hummed, bringing the glass to his lips and taking a long sip. Champagne. Not his usual drink of choice, but Aziraphale had insisted it fit the occasion. What occasion, you might ask? None, none at all. Simply a dine at the Ritz, something that had embedded itself into the two being’s schedules.
“Cheers.” The angel repeated, a soft grin spreading across his features. Crowley couldn’t help but focus on every feature at once, practically drinking in the other man. He enjoyed the way the angel spoke, the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed, the way his face wrinkled as it displayed his emotions, the way his pale blue eyes shone. Everything. He loved tracing his fingers across the angel’s palms, feeling each little crevice, he loved gently nudging the angel beneath the table with his foot, or touching the other’s shoe with his own. He loved to touch or be near the saint in any way he possibly could. He deemed himself helpless around him.
The demon realized how much time had gone by watching Aziraphale when his glass was empty and the other done eating. He sat back up, leaving the position where he sat with his head propped up in his hands, studying the being in front of him. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket, licking his finger before searching for the right amount of money. He had the cost of their usual order memorized from the many times they’d dined here.
“D’you think you’re ready to get on our way? I could go for some of that wine you’ve got in that bookshop of yours. Not a big champagne fan, me.” Crowley mumbled, glancing back up at Aziraphale and meeting the other’s eyes as he pulled out several dollar bills.
“Mm, I suppose so. I shan’t keep you waiting, anywho. To our bookshop, then?” Asked Aziraphale, standing from his chair and pushing it in.
“To our bookshop.” The demon smirked, pleased at the ‘our’ added. It made them feel real. True. They were an us. An our. He took joy in that. Perhaps too much.
Crowley spun the wheel of his Bentley, taking a sharp turn, making the angel grasp his seat. The demon snickered under his breath, glancing at the other beneath his glasses. He refocused his eyes on the road, slowing down as he drove through a particularly pretty and rather lonely road. He watched as Aziraphale grabbed an album, The Velvet Underground.
“What's a Velvet underground?”
“Hn, you wouldn’t like it, angel.” Crowley murmured, taking another turn, slowly this time as he kept his eyes on the one beside him. More so, eyes focused on the album. The angel was practically holding a love confession.
“Well, might as well find out your taste.” The angel hummed, playing it.
Crowley almost stiffened as Pale Blue Eyes began to play. Of course. The one song. What was his luck? He shouldn’t be so worried, truly. Aziraphale, most likely, wouldn’t have an idea of what this meant to Crowley. It was all in his head.
‘ Thought of you as my mountaintop,
Thought of you as my peak.
Thought of you as my everything
I’ve had but couldn’t keep
I’ve had but couldn’t keep.
Linger on your pale blue eyes,
Linger on your pale blue eyes. ‘
“Y’know, angel.” Crowley coughed, hands tightening on the wheel. “There's something, uh, something I’ve been meaning t’ask you.”
Aziraphale turned his head, a questioning look on his face.
“What is it, Crowley?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
Crowley wet his lips, removing his sunglasses and stopping the car entirely. He shifted his gaze back towards the angel in the passenger seat.
“We’re an us, aren’t we? We’re on our own side. We have each other. We’ve known each other for six thousand years. And I-, ngk, I want t’spend the rest of this damned existence with you, angel. No bloody Heaven or Hell in the way, just us. Just us. And if-”
“Crowley.”
“Hn. Yeah?”
Aziraphale reached out, a finger lightly brushing the demon’s jaw.
“I’d like to spend it with you too, forgive me if that hasn’t been clear.”
Crowley swallowed, red creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks.
“I mean, I really want to spend it with you.” Crowley croaked, eyes wide in surprise at the other’s response.
“I know what you’re implying, my dear. Or, so, I think I may know.” Aziraphale chuckled, hand gently cupping Crowley’s face. The two felt closer than before, maybe Crowley was imagining it. His head was spinning, his world, even. His jaw was slightly slack, staring at the other, flushed. “May I?” The angel asked, a soft smile spreading over his features.
“Ngk, ‘course.” Crowley eagerly shook his head, letting the other pull his face closer and press their lips together. Even if it were short, Crowley felt it lasted ages. He would’ve let it last ages. He wanted it to last ages. He felt a sort of want in his chest when they parted. Almost greedy, needy for more of what he’d just been introduced to. He’d been starved from this for six thousand years.
“Can you do that again, angel?”
“Of course.”