Chapter Text
SOHO, LONDON
He was just so damn tired of carrying this weight around, this constant feeling of loss wherever he went. Two months had already gone by since Aziraphale had taken off with Metatron, since he’d basically left him standing there with his heart wide open and then just walked away. He could still feel that kiss on his lips, the last desperate move to make him understand, the moment he’d laid his soul bare for the first time in 4000 years.
And ever since then, he’d been wandering around London trying to find anything that could distract him from this damn weight, anything that could help him forget that bloody angel, even just for a little while. The ridiculous amount of alcohol he’d downed in those first weeks had only shoved him into this sad, blurry space between dreams and reality. Nope, none of it had fixed a thing, it had just reminded him of those nights he’d spent with Aziraphale in the bookshop, laughing at their silly jokes and trading those meaningful looks.
So here he was today, in a nightclub where Aziraphel would never have set foot in his life, with a complete stranger running his tongue down his neck.
They were in a dark corridor, filled with pipes and machinery, the man making desperate sounds as he tried to unbutton Crowley's shirt. Crowley was beginning to let himself go, to forget, to let the temptation he himself had offered intoxicate him. And just as he was grabbing him from behind, his cynical smile flashing, a huge noise went off. Before they knew what was happening, a bunch of water pipes blew up and everything turned into a total mess.
A jet of water hit Crowley straight in the face, knocking him to the floor and sending his glasses flying. The guy stared at him from the ground too, and Crowley saw the moment he froze in shock when he noticed his snake eyes. Seconds later, he was sprinting down the hallway, tripping over broken pipes and screaming. Crowley forgot about him right away as a burning fury started growing in his chest, and before he even realized it, his black wings had fully spread out. This wasn’t an accident—he knew it. He could feel His presence, His gaze, His confusion. Then, slamming the floor with all his strength, he yelled,
“Aziraphale!! I know it was you!!”
And a second later Aziraphale was standing in front of him. He was glowing, as always, but he didn’t have his usual gentle look, that kind and slightly teasing smile. He was shining with fury, eyes half closed and fists clenched. Crowley’s heart skipped a beat and he began to get up, but right then Aziraphale raised a hand toward him and Crowley was sent flying into the wall, ending up pinned there with his wings spread out. Crowley could feel his power, this wasn’t the same as before. It was far more primitive, filled with rage and desperation. Much closer to his own. He couldn’t help but smile sarcastically.
“Hello, Aziraphale. Welcome to the World.”
Aziraphale moved closer without lowering his arm, stopping just a few centimeters from him, still pinned against the wall.
“What have you done to me, Crowley?”
Crowley’s sarcastic smile vanished, and he looked at him genuinely surprised.
“What do you mean, what have I done?”
Aziraphale glared at him with fury, but unable to stop drinking in the sight of the demon hanging there, his magnificent black wings fully spread, his red hair wet and dripping, and those eyes, those eyes that hadn’t left him for the past two months, locked on him.
“You know very well!! You’ve done something, I haven’t been able to concentrate for a single minute since I left. You keep slipping into my mind and dragging me with you. I close my eyes and all I see is you!”
Crowley stared at him, stunned, and murmured hoarsely “And you think I’ve put some sort of spell on you?”
“Of course!! I can’t think about anything but you!"
“Neither can I!!” Crowley shouted back, furious.
This took Aziraphale by surprise; he stepped back, eyes confused.
“Then… what…?” he muttered, looking around in confusion.
The sound of Crowley’s sarcastic laugh made him snap his head up. The demon was staring at him with mocking eyes and a sharp smile, and said:
“Vavoom, Angel!”
Aziraphale jolted, and with his gaze completely unfocused, he started stumbling backwards. He tripped over one of the pipes and fell flat on his back, ending up sitting in the middle of the flooded floor. From down there, he lifted his eyes toward Crowley, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and vanished.
At that very moment, Crowley felt the pressure pinning him to the wall suddenly release, and he dropped to his knees. He slammed his hand into the water and growled.
“Damn you, Aziraphale.”