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Gosh, was Crowley tired. These weeks have been anything but easy. Gabriel came to the bookshop without memory and said something bad was happening, so him and Aziraphale had to see what was going on. Or, more like Aziraphale was looking, and Crowley was threatening the poor ex-archangel.
The whole meeting (dance) Aziraphale had hosted, and Shax throwing demons in their face made them pretty tired. It didn't help that The Metatron walked into the shop and bothered their happy ending. Crowley was sitting in a chair, leaning on the arm rest when he heard the front door bell jingle.
Crowley glances up as the girls sit down across from him. Nina looked exhausted, Maggie as well, but she looked fine by Crowley's standards. They had both agreed to talk to Crowley about the whole "making them fall in love" thing.
"You can't just treat us like dolls. We're real people with real feelings. If I dated Maggie, I'd just be a rebound mess! And I'm hoping that when I'm ready, Maggie will be there for me."
"I will." Maggie added in.
"You're not helping angel." Nina sounded annoyed when she said that, but her face noticeably got softer. Maybe Nina wasn't ready to date again, but she definitely was in good hands when she was.
Crowley wasn't listening to the rest of the scolding. He was still thinking about what Nina called Maggie, "angel." He calls Aziraphale that, well, because that's what he is. He never thought that it could be a term of endearment for humans. Maybe that's why people kept assuming they were dating.
"Look at you two, you're the hard bitten one, that can't trust anyone ever again, and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one who still believes in magic and people doing good and all that." Nina waves one of her hands in Crowley's general direction, trying to get through to him.
"Why are you telling me this? I don't understand."
Crowley questions as he leans to the side a little in the chair he was sitting in, crossing one of his legs over the other. He doesn't get what the girls are going on about. She's gotten them all wrong. How would she know anything about their relationship?
"That's why we're telling you, because you don't understand." Maggie adds in softly, leaning forward for emphasis. "Because you and Mr. Fell, don't talk to each other."
"We talk all the time. bla bla bla bla. I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny back. It's great."
"But you never say what you're truly thinking. That's all we needed. It's what you two need as well."
Crowley was left there without words for a moment. Say what he's truly feeling? He's been doing that for centuries, always speaking his mind. That's what got him kicked out, right?
"I do do that, mind you, Maggie. What do you want me to say? Oh, I want to run away together, Alpha Centauri is out, so maybe I'll find a different place."
"But why did you want to run away with Mr. Fell? Why didn't you just go alone unless there's a reason you wanted to go with him."
Crowley pauses, looking down slightly as his eyes dart to the side. He's never truly thought about why he wanted to run away with him. He knew Aziraphale liked earth. Maybe there's another reason other than wanting to get away from heaven and hell.
"Because I wanted to get away from all of heavens and hells nonsense! I didn't want Aziraphale dealing with that as well."
"So you care for him?"
"He's my friend, isn't that what you people do?"
"Is that the only way you care for him?"
Crowley doesn't know how to respond. It's odd how these girls seem to take his tangled thoughts and sting them out. He's left thinking, and he typically doesn't like thinking too hard about their relationship.
"No."
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Crowley was cleaning up the book shop after the whole fight thing or whatever that truly was. He slides the carpet back over the symbol on the ground and miracles the book shelves to turn around. He walks over to the chair he has been sitting in before and slides it back in the desk, then back out. He groans and plays with it a little, nervousness creeping into his stomach.
Aziraphale was on his mind and how he was going to confess. That's what the girls told him to do anyway. He's definitely thought about it a few times here and there, but never thought he'd truly go through with it.
But he won't lie, getting to call him his angel does have a nice ring to it.
His thoughts were interrupted when the shop bell rang. He looks up, seeing Aziraphale looking quite amused. Crowley can't help but fiddle with anything in his grasp. He reaches up and fixes the string scarf around his neck, making the metal part face down evenly against his chest.
"What's that look for angel? What did the Metatron say?"
"Oh, Crowley. It was quite a surprise. He took me to the French restaurant and asked me about the next archangel."
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"Mh, Michael?"
Aziraphale and the Metatron were sitting at the same table him and Crowley had sat at right before the meeting. The Metatron had given him that coffee that he couldn't deny was delicious, and they sat there since it caught Aziraphale's eye. The Metatron just had asked him who he thought should be the next Archangel after a bit of chatting.
"Oh, don't be silly! No, no, there's only one candidate who makes the slightest bit of sense."
"Who?"
"You, Aziraphale. You're a leader. You don't just tell people what they want to hear. Heaven needs someone like you to rule it."
Aziraphale was drinking the coffee and almost choked when he heard the response. He lowered the cup and thought of a response, stumbling over his words a little.
"Oh. Well, my bookshop, and well, my friend Crowley."
"Well, you know. If you wanted to work with him, it would be a little irregular, but it's certainly in your jurisdiction to restore your friend."
"Restore, as in?" Aziraphale asked a little amused.
"Back to heaven and a more heavenly state, become an angel again." The Metatron said matter-of-fact.
Aziraphale held back a snort. Crowley, an angel again. He wouldn't be caught dead even stepping into heaven again, let alone be an angel. He put the coffee down on the table, and places his hands in his lap.
"A kind offer truly, but I think I'll pass. I quite like my life on Earth."
When Aziraphale answers, the Metatron clearly looks a little upset, mad even. He quickly collects himself and leans forward slightly in his chair, glancing down at the table and then Aziraphale.
"I don't think you know what I'm offering. You'll have all the power, and your 'ahem', friend Crowley could come with you."
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in amusement. This man was trying so hard to get Aziraphale to join him. He chuckled gently at the silly thought to himself.
"I'm sure I know what you're purposing, but my answer is still the same."
Aziraphale stands up, miracling a few pounds into his pocket and pulling it out, placing it on the table.
"Thanks for the coffee, but I must get going."
The Metatron looks surprised and a little offended as Aziraphale just gets up and walks back, with a pep in his step even. He takes a deep breath and interlocks his fingers, resting them on the table.
"He'll come around. He has to."
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"Wow, sounds like a story."
Crowley was listening half-heartedly the whole time, standing there as Aziraphale explained his encounter with the Metatron. He would normally have similar options to the angel, but his nerves got the better of him, and Aziraphale immediately noticed, but he guessed wrong, like always.
"Oh dear, you look quite sickly. Do you need to lay down? I have a spare bedroom in the flat."
Aziraphale's voice was dripping with concern, stepping closer to examine the demons face. Aziraphale was always so caring.
"No angel, I'm fine." Crowley defused the situation. Even though Aziraphale wasn't convinced, he dropped it.
"There's actually something I was planning on telling you." Crowley added after a beat of silence.
"Oh, well, go ahead, dear, I'm all ears." Aziraphale looks at him with those soft eyes, that stupid smile that he always couldn't help smiling back at. It made him pause. What if he ruins this? Them, he means. What if Aziraphale doesn't feel the same and things don't go back to normal. He doesn't want to lose the angel. That's worse than anything he can think of.
"Would you like to dine at the Ritz with me? They have a good special this week. And with these past hours, I think we need a little alcohol. whaddya say?"
Aziraphale paused. That did sound good. His smile returned and he takes a step towards the demon, his hand reaching to lay on Crowley's upper arm for a moment, but Crowley can feel it sting his skin, and that's what he wants, so Aziraphale couldn't fade away, ever.
"That does sound fine. Shall we go then?"
It took a hot minute for Crowleys mind to clear up, and then he nodded. He grabs his glasses and slips them on. He walks out of the bookshop, Aziraphale following behind. They get into the Bentley, Crowley making a big deal of opening the door for the angel. They drive down the road, speeding as always.
Once they get to the restaurant and miracle a table available for them, a server walks them to a table. They sit down, and Aziraphale picks up the menu, looking over it. Crowley doesn't bother. He knows what he'll get, angel food cake. The server comes over and takes out a pad.
"Hello, gentlemen. What can I get for you this afternoon?"
"Oh, may I get the crepes, and my good friend here will get the angel food cake." Aziraphale responses, using a soft public voice whenever Aziraphale wanted to sound polite.
"And a whiskey." Crowley added in quickly.
Crowley was oddly surprised. Afternoon? When did it possibly get so late? It felt like maybe 30 minutes from the whole fight to now. The server walked away, and Aziraphale started talking. Just about anything was on the table. As the server filled their glasses with a white wine (much to Crowley's displeasure), Aziraphale was talking about what happened when Crowley disappeared to help the humans.
Crowley was listening closely and occasionally nodded along, but he wasn't really listening. His mind was on the confession plan. Was he ever going to? He's been planning it for years at this point, and it's going to eat him alive if he doesn't do it soon. That's when their food arrived, and Aziraphale thanked the server before digging into his food.
Crowley just watched as always, holding his glass while getting a refill as Aziraphale talked his ear off. He loved the sound of the angels voice. He really couldn't get tired of listening to it. It was soothing in any context, drowning out any other noise around them.
Aziraphale seemed to notice his uncharacteristic silence and paused his talking. He leans forward and puts his fork down on his plate.
"Are you alright, dear? Something on your mind?" Aziraphale's voice was filled with concern, making Crowley feel a little bad for worrying the angel. He lifted up his head and looked down at his plate of food he hadn't started yet.
"Yeah, 'm good. Pretty tired from the day you know."
"Oh, I'm quite aware. I think we should rest when we get back to the bookshop. It's been quite a day."
Crowley couldn't agree more. It may only be the afternoon, but gosh, he wanted to sleep for at least a week straight. Aziraphale offered to pay and wouldn't take no for an answer. Aziraphale took the angel food cake that Crowley didn't eat and walked out together.
It was a nice cloudy day, a cool breeze blowing through the air and making it quite the perfect late summer day. The two walked down the road, and all the way to Aziraphale's bookshop. The angel unlocked the door and walked in, Crowley right behind. The demon immediately took off his glasses, put them on the horse statue on the angels pay desk, and set himself down on the couch, sighing deeply as his body relaxed into the cushions.
Aziraphale was taking off his jacket and putting it on the coat rack near the door. He was watching Crowley and felt a smile creep up on his face. The demon has truly done so much for him. He wishes there was a way to show his gratitude for him, some way to show how much he truly cares for Crowley. He walked to his desk, picked up a book from the pile on his desk of books he's in the middle of reading, and took a seat next to a sprawled out Crowley.
Aziraphale's useless reading glasses were perched on his nose, opening the book from where the bookmark was, and he started reading as a way to relax. Crowley was sitting on the couch, taking up most of it. His arms against the back of the couch with his legs hanging off it. He lifts his head to glance at the angel, seeing his stupid little glasses and focused expression. The demon felt a small smile form on his face as he was watching, listening to the soft sound of breathing and page turning.
This contentment that settled over them made Crowley calm. This is what he wanted, being with Aziraphale for eternity where Heaven and Hell couldn't touch them. He wanted to drag Aziraphale away from them so they both wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. Maybe they could even live like humans and do what they do. That's what they've been doing for years anyway.
Crowley is no stranger to human relationships. He's watched people interact. Holding hand in a park, sitting down and leaning on each other, even giving kisses. He's wanted to maybe do that with Aziraphale, hold his hand, and get up in his business. He's thought about kissing the angel before, and he's imagined what it would he like. However, he's incredibly worried he'll mess it up immediately and ruin the moment.
Crowley was so deep in thought that he didn't notice he's been staring. When he finally snaps back to reality, he spots Aziraphale looking right back. He felt his face heat up slightly, and he miracles his glasses back on his face, hiding his flustered expression.
"Something on your mind, dear?" Aziraphale's voice was surprisingly soft, melting the poor demons' walls. He looks back at the angel, faking a normal expression.
"No, not really."
Aziraphale didn't like that response. He closed the door on his lap and took off his glasses, folding them and placing them down on the little side table next to the couch. He looks over at the demon, meeting the black tint of the glasses.
"You know you can talk to me, somethings clearly been bothering you since this morning." The angels voice was laced with compassion. It was Aziraphale's nature to be nice. This didn't mean anything.
Crowley was battling himself internally. He wanted to confess so badly, tell the angel how he felt. He held back. He didn't want to mess this up and ruin what they had. He was happy with the life he formed, something stupid like confessing would break that immediately. On the other hand, he couldn't stop thinking about how nice it would be to be with Aziraphale.
Doing all the things that he's seen in real life and in movies is something he's been yearning for for a while now. Being like that would be amazing, just being together so Heaven and Hell couldn't touch them again. Something like that seems like he could reach it, but it was just out of his grasp. The fear of losing Aziraphale was too strong to get the confession out.
"Nah, nothing."
Aziraphale was visibly disappointed, but he dropped the subject and reopened his book. He didn't bother with the glasses. He was too busy thinking anyway. He noticed Crowley acting differently all day after that conversation with Maggie and Nina. He spotted them walking out of the bookshop just as he got back from talking with the Metatron. He brushed it off at first, but now he's connecting the dots. He'll talk with them tomorrow and possibly get answers.
12 am rolled around, and Aziraphale was completely engulfed in his book. The boy the book was about, whose name was Daniel, he was a skater boy, and he was crushing on a nerd boy. He liked the book since it spun around the stereotype, and it was a cute little love stroy. He picked it since it reminded him of Crowley and himself, for some reason.
He suddenly remembered he was a person, to some extent. He snaps out from the world he was in and noticed that nothing really changed, well, except Crowley was asleep next to him on the couch. He somehow got to lie down with Aziraphale not noticing, and he was passed out. Aziraphale watched Crowley's chest rise and fall for a moment before he snapped the book closed and put it down.
Aziraphale stood up and grabbed the blanket he drapped over the back of the couch, and he put it over Crowley. He went to reach over to the side table to click off the lamp that was shining a soft golden light when Crowley stirred. He slowly opened his eyes and grumbled something. He noticed the blanket over him and looked oddly confused. For some odd reason, Aziraphale got nervous, worrying he didn't do something right. Before he could apologize, Crowley pulled the blanket closer and closed his eyes again.
Right, don't overthink this. Aziraphale took the glasses off the floor and folded them, putting them on the side table. He didn't technically need to sleep, but he was exhausted from the day. He turned off the lamp and walked up to the flat above the bookshop, finding the makeshift bed he owns to sleep on. He passed out almost immediately, his body relaxing after one of the most stressful days of his life.
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Crowley wakes up from the sunlight shining through the window. He opens his eyes and blinks the sleep from his eyes before sitting up and leaning against the back of the couch. He notices Aziraphale isn't anywhere, and he stands up, tossing the blanket haphazardly before entering the flat above the bookshop.
"Aziraphale? You up here?"
He didn't get a response. Crowley wanted to be disappointed, but he wasn't really, Aziraphale disappeared all the time, not like he didn't do the same. He miracles his clothing to be fresh and walks out. Maybe he'll find the angel, or just cause general mischief. Little did he know that Aziraphale was going on an adventure, looking for clues.
A few minutes earlier, despite the fact he was still exhausted, he woke up around 8 am. to when the coffee shop "Give me coffee or give me death," and he walked in. Nina was flipping down chairs and washing off tables. She looked up and half-waved before going back to work. She didn't even open yet, but after the whole experience with Aziraphale, she didn't question anything anymore.
"Ah, hello there, Nina! May I speak with you this morning?"
"Yeah, sure. Hit me." Nina didn't look up, and she sounded busy. She put down the last chair and grabbed a disinfectant wipe, cleaning the table.
"Well, you and your friend Maggie talked with my friend Crowley when I stepped out. I just wanted to know, what did you talk about? If it's not too personal, of course." Aziraphale was quite nervous. He didn't want to overstep privacy, but he wanted to know why Crowley was acting strange.
Nina looked a little amused, smirking softly as she cleaned. She was wondering if Crowley confessed, and this confirmed that he didn't. Maggie walked in, holding oatmilk and cinnamon. She paused when she saw her boss in the coffee shop, a little surprised. Nina informed Maggie on what was going on, while Aziraphale stood there, helpless to do anything since no one's given him an answer yet.
"Mr. Fell, we talked about your relationship with your boyfriend." Maggie said softly, putting the oatmilk and cinnamon on the counter. "And how he was going to confess to you."
For a moment, it was like the world stopped around him. Confess? Crowley was going to confess? The idea alone made his cheeks warm up. His hands hover at his sides for a moment before they come up at his front. He tries to stutter out a response to a very amused Nina.
"Confess? I- no- Crowley isn't-" Aziraphale's words trail off slowly, unable to form a proper thought. He takes a deep breath and clears his head. "Crowley wouldn't confess. He doesn't even like me like that. I mean, sure, he's done a lot for me, like saving my books and always being around when I really need it. It doesn't mean anything."
It was clear that Aziraphale was so oblivious that not even glasses could make him see what was in front of him. Nina sighed weakly and leaned up, quickly thanking Maggie, who looked quite proud of herself. She went behind the counter and took the groceries into her hands.
"I swear, both of you are more stupid than a pack of jack rabbits."
"What does that-"
"Doesn't matter. I don't have the energy or patience for this right now, I'm very busy. Go find out yourself, see how stupid you look."
Aziraphale listened to Nina and nodded as his eyes darted to the line of people outside the coffee shop. He felt guilt bubble up and waved to Maggie as he started walking out. "Right. Thanks. Have a lovely day!"
Aziraphale walks out of the coffee shop, the bell above the door making a soft chime sound as the door hits it. The sound of cars and busy streets with people littered around them fill his already overwhelmed head. He decides to walk back to his bookshop. He needs a way to distract himself.
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He opens the door to his bookshop, hearing another bell as the door hits it, although this one is arguably more pleasant. He walks in and takes off his overcoat, hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. Aziraphale glances at the couch, silently hoping Crowley is still there. He wasn't. He pushed down the feeling of disappointment and went over to the couch, folding the blanket as he pondered Maggie's confession.
As he was folding the blanket, he caught a whiff of a faint smell of alcohol and smoke. He looked around, wondering if he spilled something last night, and then he realized it came from the blanket. The blanket Crowley was covered in. Aziraphale quickly tried to reason with himself. Maybe he imagined it. He brought it a little closer to his face and quickly put it down. He didn't imagine it.
Aziraphale felt his face burn. The tips of his ears red with a flush over his cheeks. He quickly put down the blanket over the back of the couch and sat down on it. Why did he notice that? He felt so embarrassed and a little creepy. Was it even creepy? Crowley admitted he knew what he smelt like, but that was completely an off-hand comment. Why was he even making such a big deal out of this? It didn't matter. He still felt so embarrassed and incredibly silly.
Drinking was a habit that Aziraphale knew Crowley had. He didn't try to hide it either. The occasional temptation to go to the pub (always failed) or dig around Aziraphale's cabinet for a bottle of wine or rye. Smoking was a habit Crowley picked up around 1950. He saw some other demons start doing it and thought little of it until Aziraphale surprisingly offered him one. Crowley doesn't do it much anymore, but it always lingers.
A good distraction. That's what Aziraphale needs. He stands up abruptly and walks over to his bookshelf. There's a pile of books he's been meaning to read for quite a while, and one catches his eye. Three Lives by American author Gertrude Stein. It was written in 1909. Crowley got it for him as a present because he "liked the cover art." He's put it off since it didn't look like something he'd be into, but he picks it up. He holds it in two hands and gently rubs his thumb over the slightly rough texture.
Aziraphale walks back to the couch and sits down, and he just looks at the cover for a minute. This was a gift, so it was special. It wasn't going to bite him, so why was he scared of it? He leans back and grabs the blanket on the back of the couch, and throws it over his lap. Maybe a day of reading could be relaxing. It could take his mind off of things.
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Crowley has been gallivanting around town, ignoring Nina and Maggie's words. What do they know? They don't know what could be at stake if he confesses his "undying" love or whatever. However, he's made a promise to himself. He won't go back to the bookshop if he wasn't going to confess to the angel. He doesn't know if he'll ever go back.
What would they even do as a couple? What would change besides a stupid title that didn't mean anything? He continues walking, his hands in pockets, and a sudden purpose. He's seen it in a film, and he definitely found it stupid, but Aziraphale was very humored by it, calling it romantic or something. He didn't see the appeal, but he understood what Aziraphale wanted, and he was going to do that.
He continues walking, not really knowing what he was supposed to look for. A stand, maybe? It might be a shop. He pauses when he finds it. 3 big wooden baskets with at least 30 different types of flowers. They were in a store window, and he rushed it. It's a small little store, with a counter and shelves full of more baskets with flowers. There's too much. How will he pick?
A younger boy, maybe even a teenager, walks out of 2 small doors behind the counter. He has gum in his mouth, and he blows a bubble before walking up to the edge of the counter and rests his forearms against the marble finish.
"Need help with anything?"
His tone indicates he was sick of his job. The name tag on the olive green apron said his name was Ben. Crowley didn't really care. He needed a minute to think.
"No." Crowley mumbles back before going to the farthest shelving unit and looking over it. If he was to get flowers for Aziraphale, they needed to be perfect. Not even a single withered pedle. None worked, so he moved down to the next shelving unit, looking over that one, too. He goes through all of them and still couldn't find one was that perfect. It didn't help he didn't know what he wanted.
Ben was sitting behind the counter, helping some other customers when Crowley practically shoved them out of the way. "Apparently, I do need help."
Ben didn't even care anymore. He popped the bubble of gum being blown out of his mouth before leaning against the counter.
"I'm looking for yellow flowers. Like an ember yellow. You got that?"
Crowley sounded a little annoyed. He didn't have any more patience left, and he wanted this to be done quicker.
Ben reluctantly gets up and walks towards the shelves with the flowers. He grabs some Ember lilies. "Like these?"
Crowley shakes his head. What idiot would pick those? These aren't even close to good enough.
"Absolutely not. Pick another."
Crowley can spot Ben's eyeroll and resists one himself. Ben walks down to another shelve and pulls out an orange Dahlia pinnata. "This is the only other ember flower we own, so this or nothing."
Ben's tone was as annoyed as Crowley felt, until he saw those flowers. Those were the ones he wanted. Aziraphale would love them, and that all he cared about. When Ben didn't get an answer, he just put the flower back and walked away back to the counter.
Crowley started to look through the big selection of Dahlia pinnata, but he's really only looking at the orange and yellow ones. He assumed Aziraphale liked yellow when the angel changed his car to be yellow. The color was similar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Crowley was digging through the boxes, trying to find the ones that were perfect. They can't have a single dent or withered pedle.
It must have been 20 minutes before Crowley dragged himself over to the counter, very disappointed in himself. He could only find 3 that were up to his standards, but he didn't want to only give the angel 3 flowers, so he picked out about 10. Ben blew another bubble as he wrapped the flowers in a white paper and plastic before handing it back and clicking the register.
"12 pounds. Please and thank you."
Ben drags out his words. He's a little sick with dealing with this man.
Crowley grumbles something about the price being ridiculous for 10 flowers and slams down the money. He didn't even bother to grab the change before he grabbed the flowers and hightails out of the shop. He drags himself down the road and gets in his Bentley, putting the flowers on the passenger seat. He puts his hands on the steering wheel and just leans forward, staring at the flowers. Is he really going to go through with this?
His mind keeps bouncing between doing this and throwing the flowers in the river. If Aziraphale rejects him, what is he going to do? Where would he go? He didn't want to lose the angel, and that's a possibility if he does this. He leans back up and rubs his eyes under his glasses with one of his hands. He needs to do this. Even if Aziraphale doesn't like him the same way, that doesn't matter. He can still be around him. Right?
What seems like a blink of an eye, Crowley has been driving around for hours. It was 10 am when the demon got the flowers, and now it's almost 8 pm. Aziraphale's called him in that time frame, and Crowley didn't pick up. He wanted this to be a surprise, and he would let this slip if he talked to the angel. Finally, he gained enough courage and drove to Aziraphale's house. Now he's standing in front of the door, flowers in hand. He's sweating, acting like a nervous wreck and confident all at once.
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Aziraphale has been reading the gifted book front to back. He was wrong. He loved it. Over the course of the day, Aziraphale has read almost all the books in his pile. He's in the middle of a library book about space, and laughing about how inaccurate it was when a knock on the door caught his attention. He puts the book down and takes the blanket off his lap, and he slowly rises to his feet. He makes it to the door and opens it, smiling wider when he spots Crowley.
"Ah, hello dear. I haven't heard from you all day." Aziraphale sounded very content and stepped aside to let Crowley in. "How was your day?"
"Yeah, my day was fine. Didn't do much." Crowley answered after a bit of hesitation. The demon then walks in with the flowers behind his back. The angel notices the way Crowley walks in, clearly hiding something behind him. He keeps his polite smile, though his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What's that?"
Crowley glances away and squeezes the flowers a little harder so the plastic crinkles slightly. He swallows, trying to get out what he practiced for hours before this. He takes a deep breath and let's out his shaky confession.
"We've been together a long time. I mean, we've been on this plant a lot long together, like, friends, I'd say. And, I mean-"
Crowley couldn't seem to finish it. His throat closed up, and it felt dry. Aziraphale was looking at Crowley like a dear in the headlights, which made Crowley nervous. But he's in too deep. He needs to keep going. He won't chicken out again.
"Angel. You know I do things for you. And don't get me wrong, I like doing them. Dinners, walks, anything. I- I like it all. And, I hope you also like doing it with me. And, I saw what beelzebub and Gabriel, or Maggie and Nina- Mh." Crowley's voice got shaky from nervousness, and he glued his gaze to the floor. He doesn't know where he wants to continue with this, but from the way the angel was looking at him, his confidence was crumbling.
Aziraphale's expression doesn't change. A million thoughts running through his head. Maggie and Nina were right. They were right! The angel doesn't know how to respond, but he's so happy. Crowley might feel the same way, but he needs words to confirm it. He needs the confession, and he wasn't going to rush Crowley at all. He takes a mini step forward, his eyes seeming to sparkle the more the realization settles in.
The demon felt himself almost involuntary steps back as the angel steps forward. It was dangerous to get him so close, since he still didn't know what the angel was thinking. But, the look in the angels eyes gave him the strength to continue.
"Listen, Aziraphale. I really enjoy your company. I really enjoy you. So, do you want to be together, like, a couple?"
Once Crowley finished, he waited. Aziraphale's expression twisted into one of pure shock once the demon looked back. He instantly wanted to double down, admit this was a joke, and leave. He paused when Aziraphale finally moved. He stepped closer with his hands in front of him clasped together. His smile was so wide it might just jump off his face. Even though Crowley went off script, it seems it wasn't needed.
"Do you really mean that?" Aziraphale questions, his voice quiet and almost giddy with emotion.
Crowley isn't able to get words out anymore. He just pulls the flowers away from behind him and holds them out, his gaze off to the side. He hears a soft gasp and feels the bouquet leave his hands. Well, panic averted. He likes them after all. Once Crowley looks back, he sees Aziraphale walked away, and he feels like he can breathe. The angel was putting them down on the side table next to his couch. Since they were still technically in the doorway, the demon walked in further and took off his glasses, putting them on the horse statue next to the pay desk.
Crowley leaned against the wall. He felt like it was over. He could move on and never bring this up again. But like usual, the angel ruined that plan. Aziraphale walked over and stood in front of Crowley. He recounted everything he knew from romance movies and literature, and before he could second guess himself, he leaned up, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips onto Crowleys.
Crowley felt nothing but shock. What was he supposed to do? Where should he put his hands? He quickly decided not to overthink this. He can't ruin this. His hands go to the sides of the angels arms, and his eyes slip shut as he squeezes his arms tighter, struggling not to freak out. Crowley knew very little on kissing, but he didn't expect he'd forget everything as soon as it happened, so he'll copy the angel. He presses back, but that's all he does.
When Aziraphale pulls back, Crowley looks at him with a red flushed face. Aziraphale has a light blush on his face and a dumb huge smile. "Yes, I want to." Aziraphale said softly after a moment of silence, his voice quiet.
Crowley was silenced with that response. He leans his head forward and puts it on his angels shoulder, mostly to hide his embarrassment and flushed face. "You- ngk, angel. Why did you do that?"
Aziraphale finally gets his chance and wraps his arms around his demon. He's been doing so many things new and bold today. Crowley was nervous nothing would change, guess he was wrong. "Because I wanted to. Isn't that enough reason?"
That stupid soft tone his angel used was going to kill Crowley. His hands were still on his arms, but he slowly let go and slid them under Aziraphale's arms, wrapping them around him and holding him close. Maybe we could get used to this. If this was what he could finally do with his angel, maybe he didn't mind.
And he was right. Calling him his angel does have a nice ring to it.