Chapter Text
“No- no, don’t do the dance…”
Crowley muttered, waving his hand, his voice rough as the words left his mouth. So much it had been, so little remained.
“Well?” Aziraphale answered, as he stopped moving, looking him in the eyes.
“Eh, eh… I forgive you.” He murmured quietly, his voice slightly muffled as his gaze drifted to the floor.
“Eh, I didn’t-”
“I forgive you.” He spat out, raising and lowering his eyebrows as he looked back at him.
Aziraphale smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he did. “Thank you.” He said, his voice as soft as ever. Softer than Crowley remembered it. So soft, it almost reminded him of Aziraphale for a moment. Not this Aziraphale. The one he had been mourning ever since that confession years ago. He feared that, if he had looked into those blue eyes for a second more, he might have caught a glimpse of who he used to be.
His expression softened slightly, his eyebrows unfurling as he sighed through his nose quietly. Aziraphale looked around, his eyes dancing across the books stacked on those shelves, still remaining strong after decades. Or at least, that's what he had tried to tell himself. Those weren’t his books. Nor were the shelves that surrounded them. He looked back at Crowley, swallowing before speaking.
“Well… there’s just us.” He said, walking slowly towards Crowley, his shoes echoing his steps over the wooden floor as he did so. His gaze drifted to the shelves once again, his shoulders swaying with each step. “In the whole of everything.” He said, taking a breath, before speaking once again. “It’s a place for us.” He spoke while attempting to paint his voice with that jolly tone of always. Even if he knew Crowley could see right through him. He always had.
“We’ve got nothing.” He said without flinching.
“Well, we’ve got each other.” Aziraphale answered, his smile not wavering. “And we’ve probably got some cocoa.” He continued, his voice way too joyous for the context they were currently in, as he walked away from Crowley. “And we’ve got lots of books.” He spun around, smiling.
Crowley reached the top of one of the shelves, picking up a book. “Have we?” He murmured, as his hand flipped through the pages. Blank, shining white paper looked back at him. “Good luck reading these.” He spoke as he threw the book in the air towards Aziraphale. Aziraphale caught the book, eyeing it as Crowley walked away, continuing to inspect more books. “But that’s…” Aziraphale looked back up, putting the book Crowley had handed (thrown at) him down as he quickly reached for the shelves, grabbing another one. He looked through it, the poor paper meeting the same fate as its fellow coworkers. “Even the Dickens…” Crowley threw the book he was looking at back into the air. It met the ground with a small thud as he grabbed another one.
“Well, if… if it’s all come to this, then…” Aziraphale struggled to speak, as Crowley threw yet another book in the air. “There must be some sort of answer here, finally…” He spoke rushedly, as his hands flipped through the blank pages as quickly as he physically could. He put it down, grabbing another one. “To everything.” He said. Crowley grabbed another book, this time not throwing it in the air, but looking through its blankness as he walked back to Aziraphale. “Oh, yeah, one hundred thousand blank books but one with all the answers in them. Doesn’t sound very likely, does it?”
Aziraphale swallowed as he looked up, before the bell at the front door of the book shop rang quietly in the distance. He looked towards the entrance, putting down the book as he walked. A figure stood before them, dressed in black, seemingly inspecting one of the books as if it held some sort of information Aziraphale and Crowley had failed to find.
“Can I… Can I help you…?” Aziraphale eyed the figure. “I- I’m afraid all the books appear to be blank. Even the Dickens.” He breathed, before Crowley broke the silence, his voice rough.“I know you.”
The figure looked up, staring back at him. “You do, yes.”
Aziraphale's gaze softened, looking at him. “Oh, yes, there is…” He pointed at him.
“ something familiar… about you.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Last time you saw me, I was a thousand feet high…” Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised. “bright red, lots of horns and fabulous teeth, arguing with my son…” The figure smiled. Aziraphale did too. But there was an awfully big difference between their smiles. “Satan. You’re Satan.” He said, forcing a grin.
“That’s really just a… a job title. It means the Adversary.” His smile didn’t falter. Aziraphale’s did. It dropped pretty quickly, actually. Crowley raised an eyebrow. “And I don’t know if I still have a job, but yes. I was the Satan for a very long time.”
Aziraphale attempted to force a smile once more, but it stayed as an attempt. Satan’s eyes drifted to Crowley. “Hello, Crowley.”
“How are you still here?” He growled, his eyes wide, sharp as he took off his glasses. Aziraphale looked at them, biting his tongue.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” He smiled. Crowley almost spat as he answered. “Oh, we were never friends.” His voice lowered as he spoke. “I want answers and I want them now.”
“I don’t give answers.” Satan responded, his smile dropping slightly before it came back. “And God definitely doesn’t.”
“So,” Aziraphale jumped in, his eyebrows raising as he smiled. “You’re the devil.” He swallowed. “Hm. It can’t have been much fun for you.” He said, his voice losing some of that light-hearted tone. Satan looked back at him. “Fun?”
Aziraphale flinched. “It’s not about having fun.” Satan continued. “It’s about pride. And honour. It’s about refusing to acknowledge humans as superior.” His teeth shone as he spoke. “It’s about challenging God.”
“Yeeah, but you never really did, did you?” Crowley’s eyebrows raised.
“Excuse me? The great revolt- the War in Heaven? What was that then, eh?” He looked at him, eyebrows raised as well. “A two week holiday in Marbella?”
Aziraphale bit the inside of his mouth looking at Crowley for a second, before looking back towards him.
“You knew what we didn’t know, didn’t you?” Crowley spat. “You knew we couldn’t win. You were never going to win, were you? That wasn’t the plan!”
“I didn’t know that, I thought we had a chance. And so did you. That’s why you joined up.”
“I don’t remember why I joined you, not anymore.” Crowley looked at him, sizing him up. “I was tired. And I was angry, I wanted it all to make sense. And you seemed to care.”
Satan looked at him. “I did care.”
“Nah. You were just doing your job.” He spoke. He leaned towards Aziraphale, his gaze not drifting from Satan. “Do you have a pen?”
Aziraphale nodded. “Mm-hmm.” He looked at Satan for a second more, before looking at Crowley, beginning to reach for a pen. His hand brushed against the demon’s shoulder, and he breathed in. Satan eyed him.
Aziraphale opened a small box, offering it towards Crowley. Inside it rested a variety of pens, laying against the soft, golden velvet that covered the insides. “What kind of pen do you need?”
Crowley reached blindly, his gaze still on Satan, settling on the first pen his hand laid upon. He opened the black metal cap with his mouth. “Pass me a book.”
“Which book?” Aziraphale answered. He looked at Aziraphale, his eyebrows raising. “Well, it doesn’t matter, they’re all blank, angel.” Aziraphale's heart missed a beat. “Whichever one you give me is the right one.” Satan looked at them as Aziraphale passed him a book. “Bleak House.”
Aziraphale stared at Crowley, looking at his hands as the demon wrote on the book. He breathed. Maybe it was due to the book being written on, maybe it was due to Crowley’s hands alone. He looked back at him, composing himself. “But- But that isn’t… the… The Book of Life.”
Crowley looked up, and into his eyes. “It is if we say it is.”
Satan’s gaze drifted between the both of them. “What are you two idiots doing now?”
“I want answers.”
“Oh- no, no, you- you can’t do that.” Aziraphale stuttered. Crowley grinned, his eyes wide. “Oh, yes we can.” He moved his hand, offering the book to Aziraphale. “Do you want to write it?”
Aziraphale stared at him, his eyes wide, before taking the book roughly. “Give me the pen.” He said. Crowley bit back a smile, looking back at Satan.
Aziraphale walked back to his desk, sitting down, before beginning to write.
“There were four of them in that bookshop,
which was the whole world.
An angel, a former demon, the Devil himself,
and one other, one who was there,
because They were omnipresent.
They had always been there.
They would always be there…”
The room slowly lit up as Aziraphale’s fingers finished writing the sentence, his gaze still settled on the ink. Crowley’s hand laid on his right shoulder carefully. Aziraphale instantly looked up. At his hand. At him. And then, at God.
He stood up from his chair slowly. Crowley walked forward.
“As you say, Aziraphale, you do not really need to summon me. I was already here.” She smiled.
“Yes, you can be everywhere, but… that doesn’t mean… you’ll talk to us, Lord.”
“So, Crowley, what’s your question?” She looked at him. Crowley’s eyes hadn’t moved since she had appeared. They sat there, settled. “I thought you didn’t… answer. Questions.”
“Time is done, Crowley. I’ll answer one question from you.” She sat back on her chair. “But it had better be a good one.”
Crowley breathed in. “Oh, it’s a good one. Well… it’s the only one I’ve got.”
Aziraphale couldn’t help but look at him.
“It’s not the Problem of Evil, is it?” Satan spoke. “Because I can tell you, I’m over being blamed for that one.”
“No, no, not… exactly that.” He shook his head softly. “No, just…” He swallowed, looking back at Aziraphale.
“Ask.”
Crowley looked at God, before walking up to her, standing in front of her. He cleared his throat. Loudly. Before speaking.
“Why make people… and then punish them for behaving like people?” He said.
God nodded quietly.
“Humans are gonna human, no matter what we do. There’s nothing we can ever do about that-”
“Oh, it is the Problem of Evil.” Satan cut him off. “Hah- told ya. So predictable.”
“No, no, no, it’s not the Problem of Evil. It’s the- It’s the problem of everything.” He pointed. “But let’s talk about people. They are born into a world… that is against them in a thousand different ways, and then devote most of their energy to making it worse.” He looked at God.
“Where you'll find the real grace and the real… heart-stopping evil… is right inside the human mind. But a person isn't the worst thing they've ever done, any more than they're the best thing they've ever done. Why make them that way?” He waved his hands.
“That’s free will.” Aziraphale spoke from across the room.
“Free will? Nah-” He waved his head dramatically. “It’s just a card trick, isn’t it? The suckers think they’re playing for real.” God sighed, waving her head gently.
“But the dealer knows. Nobody finds the lady unless she wants them to.” He said, leaning against one of the columns, crossing his arms.
Aziraphale’s gaze drifted up.
“What about you, Aziraphale?” She spoke.
“Er, me…?” His eyebrows raised.
“You. Do you have a burning question?” She smiled. They all looked at him.
Aziraphale stopped breathing for a second, looking at Crowley. Crowley stared back at him, his eyes strong. His eyes. He looked at the floor before looking back at God.
“I just wish it’d been easier.” He sighed. “I just wanted to do the right thing.”
“You what?” Satan spoke. God’s eyebrows furrowed. “You just wanted to be left alone to read.” He continued. Aziraphale’s face dropped. “You wanted to consume all the yummy human food. The lovely human music.”
“You say that as if it negates me wanting to do the right thing.”
“Aziraphale, you were the first angel to lie to me.”
Aziraphale’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at her. Crowley eyed God, before looking back at him.
“You were lazy. Gluttonous. Prideful.” She stared into his eyes. Aziraphale blinked.
“Quite true. And I was also the second best angel you ever had.”
“You were what?”
“The second best angel-”
“Who do you think the best angel was?” Satan stepped in.
Aziraphale’s eyes drifted as they settled on Crowley. He breathed. Crowley didn’t.
He walked up to him. “This one.” He murmured. Crowley frowned.
“I was a terrible angel…”
Aziraphale stepped even closer. And for once, Crowley allowed himself to actually look into his eyes. For as he looked, what was staring back at him was recognisable, just this once. A sight he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in for a very long time. Aziraphale.
“No, no. No, you were the best of us. You cared so much about everything.” Aziraphale smiled sweetly. Crowley swallowed saliva as his expression softened, trying to keep the tears away. “You were an artist. You wanted to understand, to make better art… The rest of us, we were just characters in her book. We didn't ask questions… You were the only one of us who... genuinely believed there had to be a... a sensible purpose to it all.” He smiled. God looked at them.
“Er- I'm nobody's character.” Satan said. “If I'm just a part of her story, then... what am I doing still here?”
Aziraphale looked between God and Satan. “Do you want me to tell him, or will you…?”
“I'm interested in what you have to say, angel.” She spoke.
Satan looked at her, before looking back at Aziraphale.
“Because it's a tidy way to finish.” He swallowed “Two of you, Deity and the Adversary, facing off. And even shaking hands.” Crowley looked at Aziraphale, having remained in that position. “And then it all ends for good. The cosmic game of chess... is over. When really you've just been a stand-in in a cosmic game of solitaire.”
Satan scoffed, chuckling. “Ridiculous.”
Aziraphale looked at her. “You know, Lord, I... I do have a question.”
“Ask it then.”
“Why... why give me Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice broke slightly. Crowley breathed as the words left his mouth.
“Why make me complete... and then take it away?” He uttered out. Crowley walked towards him.
“You know you won't get an answer.”
God stood up slowly.
“Because... you were able to value what most people never even know they have. Your love for him…” Aziraphale swallowed back tears. He couldn’t see it, but behind him, Crowley’s feelings weren’t as different as he thought they would have been. “was the messiest, silliest, most predictable thing in the universe.” She smiled. “ And it always made me smile. But that was then. That universe is over. As I think are both of you.” She said, moving her hand. The room began to shake.
“No--whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, stop!” Crowley shouted. God stopped it immediately. He breathed, before speaking again.
“You still haven't answered the first question.” He pointed at her. “What I want to know is... why did you think it was a good idea, even a sensible idea... to make an infinite universe... run it for 6,000 years, and then just…” He waved his hands. “tip the board over? The whole thing is lunacy.”
“Everything ends.” She spoke, her voice firm, her eyes dead set on Crowley. The demon frowned. “ A story doesn't have to go beyond the last page of its book, Crowley, and that story is over.”
“I don't accept that.” He spat back, clenching his fist. “And I do not accept that you're the one that gets to make all these decisions. Why should that be?” His eyes pierced through her. At the end of the day, his very nature would still shine through, no matter the situation. Even at the very end of the universe, Crowley stayed as defiant. Asking questions. Despising answers.
She smiled.
“Very well. I'll let you choose.” Crowley’s frown softened. Aziraphale stared at her. “This decision, this one decision, can be yours. What do you want? Do you want me to put everything back the way it was?” Satan’s eyes widened, looking at them.
Crowley looked at Aziraphale.
“Can we talk?”
“Very well. I'll give you privacy.” God said, waving her finger.
In front of them, a large, green tree stood, its apples a bright, crimson red. Vines wrapped around the books, flowers blooming behind them. It made Crowley want to vomit. The yellow-golden lights shone above them, casting the bookshop in an almost unrecognisable glow. Aziraphale’s breath hitched.
“So... what do you want?” He spoke. He looked directly at Crowley.
“Me? Why me?”
“Because I only want one thing. And that's not what this is about anymore.” He took a step towards him. “What do you want, Crowley?”
Crowley looked up, the golden hues of the lights reflecting on his face. He almost looked angelical. Intrusive thought, Aziraphale told himself. Or maybe it was a full-circle kind of moment.
“What is it about then?” He said.
“Sorry?”
“I said what is it about, what is this about, that has nothing to do with this.” He waved his hands, looking at him. Crowley wasn’t mad. Aziraphale could tell. But he wasn’t putting down his walls, at least not yet.
“Well this is about humanity… It’s… It’s about the universe, I-” His voice broke.
“Then how could that not have anything to do with what you want, angel?” Crowley’s voice raised, yellow eyes dancing on him. “How could it-”
“I want you, Crowley.”
Crowley’s voice quieted instantly, looking him deep in the eyes. Aziraphale held his gaze, even if it felt like it could, somehow, hurt him physically. Crowley’s expression was hesitant, unsure. Like he couldn’t even bring himself to listen to Aziraphale.
“Don’t mess with me, angel.” He growled. But just this once, there was no real bite behind it. “That’s a bit egocentric, don’t you think? For one of your kind.” He attempted to joke.
Aziraphale took a step towards him, carefully, slowly.
Before grabbing the collar of Crowley’s jacket, slamming him against the tree as their lips crashed together. “Ngk-”
Crowley’s eyes widened before he melted into it, his hands sliding into Aziraphale’s hair, grabbing at what he could. Aziraphale’s mouth shifted to a better position, groaning into the kiss.
When they pulled back, Crowley’s eyes were wide, staring at him. “And here I thought I was the one who did all the collar pulling…”
Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile, giggling. That excused a small smile out of Crowley, their foreheads pressing together for a second. Crowley swallowed, looking at the angel’s face slowly. He stroked his cheek, biting his lip as his eyes shone once more. Aziraphale smiled directly at him, before he pushed him away.
“Alright, alright, enough of this. We can address this later. Back to world-ending, universal chaos, all that stuff…” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley looked at him, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Would you trust me if I told ya I have a plan?” The demon smirked slightly.
Aziraphale’s gaze laid on him for a few seconds, observing him softly before nodding, sniffling, “Tell me about it.”
“God said she’d give us privacy, right? So she isn’t watching right now, technically.” Crowley spoke, walking across the room. He looked up, reaching to pick up a book from the shelves.
“Give me that pen, angel.”
Aziraphale smiled for a few seconds before realising what Crowley had actually asked him, reaching for the pen. He handed it to him, their hands touching for a few seconds. Crowley tore a page from the book, taking a breath. Aziraphale looked into his eyes.
“Okay, so you and I are strong, angel. We’ve always been, together. You remember the miracle we did? Years ago? When the whole thing happened with Gabriel?” He said, looking at Aziraphale, his eyes soft. Aziraphale nodded.
Crowley nodded back, opening the pen, once again with his mouth. He used the book as support, preparing to write on the torn page. His hand shook slightly.. “You will have to ask God for a God-less universe, okay? You know, no angels, no demons, no hell, no heaven…” Aziraphale frowned, looking at him. The golden lights almost made his eyes look green. “But-”
“Trust me, angel. I've got the rest of it under control.”
Aziraphale nodded, slightly unsure but deciding to trust him. As if he hadn’t always trusted him.
“So, what do you want for us?”
“Sorry?” Aziraphale blinked. Crowley nodded.
“I thought- we were talking about… the plan…”
“It’s the most important part of it.” Crowley murmured quietly. “Trust me. What do you want for us?”
Aziraphale looked into the demon’s golden eyes. “What do you want for us, Crowley?”
Crowley bit his tongue.
I want… I want us.” He bit back a sob. Aziraphale’s chest hurt upon hearing the sound.
He looked down at his hand, holding the pen. “I want… things to be the way they were. With you. With Nina, and Maggie, and the bookshop…” He smiled, his eyes slightly watering. “And my car… And maybe even… I don’t know, uh, us in a real house. With a garden. Where the plants could grow, and a real bed…”
“We have a real bed.” Aziraphale spoke.
“No we don’t. Do we have a real bed?” Crowley frowned.
“Of course. It’s in the apartment. Upstairs.”
“You have an apartment?? Upstairs??” Crowley’s eyebrows raised.
“Yes??” Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised as well. “Did you not know??”
“Of course not?! You’ve never told me! So I was breaking my back sleeping on that damn car, after breaking my back on that damn couch, and you never told me you had a bed you don’t even use?”
Aziraphale frowned. “Who told you I don’t use the bed?”
“You don’t even sleep, angel!” He shouted.
“It’s really comfortable, okay?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Crowley looked at him, his eyes wide before he bursted out laughing, his eyes slightly teary. Aziraphale grinned, looking at him, his eyes shining as well. Crowley smiled, looking back up at him.
“But I do get your point, yes. A real house would be nice.”
Crowley smiled, grabbing the pen once again before beginning to write on the torn paper.
“There were two of them in that bookshop,
which was their whole world.
Something close to an angel,
Something laying along the lines of a demon,
and no other, only the human life outside, as
it had always been, and as it would be until the end…”
“Make sure to write that all the books are back to normal, dear…” He smiled sheepishly. Crowley rolled his eyes, smiling. Aziraphale.
“And all the books within the bookshop had turned
back to their original state.” He eyed the paper, before writing the final statement.
“And the car was black.”
“Alright, done. Let’s go, angel.” He straightened himself up, looking at Aziraphale. Aziraphale smiled, leaning in to kiss him. Crowley kissed him back quietly, as he folded the torn paper, putting it in his pocket. A tear ran down his cheek.
“So, then he says, "I've got a better idea, let's not and say we did." So, I thought, well, there you go.” Satan said. Him and God laughed, before looking up at the two men approaching them then. “Yes?” She spoke. “Made your decision?” Spoke Satan.
“We want you to create another universe.” Aziraphale looked directly at her, his eyes attempting to be as serious as he could. Inside him, he could’ve sworn something was spinning. The two stood by each other, the closeness making something inside his bones ache. Not due to sadness this time. He was impatient.
“One without angels. Or demons. No god. No satan.” Crowley said, his voice as serious as ever. God’s eyebrows raised. “A universe without a Heaven and without a Hell.”
“No great plan, nothing ineffable.” Aziraphale continued. “It just starts with a Big Bang and ends billions of years later, with the Heat Death of the Universe.”
Satan’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Or, you know, however it stops. Heat Death isn't a dealbreaker…” Crowley muttered, raising his eyebrows. Aziraphale looked at him, nodding.
“You're asking God to create a…. Godless universe?” She raised an eyebrow. “Neither of you could ever exist in such a universe, you understand?”
“Wait. You're not gonna indulge them in this nonsense, are you?” Satan looked at her.
“Yes. Yes, I think I am.” She smiled. Satan looked down.
“You two fully comprehend the cost?”
Crowley breathed, looking at her. “We know what we're asking for…” He said. His hand reached for the angel’s, holding on to it. Aziraphale squeezed back, like his life depended on it. And in some kind of twisted way, it might have had for a few moments. His other hand went into his pocket, gripping the paper.
“Very well. I'll make it. I'll make the Universe your way. I'll even let an Earth happen. Eventually, there'll be humans and life, in all of its mundane glory. Something that both of you will neither know or experience, though.” She looked between them, smiling.
“That doesn't matter.” Aziraphale held his breath.
“Say goodbye then.” She smiled, beginning to raise her hand. Things started fading away slowly. Herself, Satan, the bookshop, even Aziraphale and Crowley themselves. That’s when Aziraphale closed his eyes tightly. And Crowley acted.
He let go of Aziraphale’s hand, pulling out the note. God’s eyes widened, but it was way too late. Crowley jumped forward, reaching for the makeshift Book of Life. He opened it wide, looking at its only written page. He then unfolded the torn page with a swift motion, licking it to stick it to the blank page next to the written one.
And then he tore the original page, closing the book quickly, and crumbling the original page, throwing it onto the ground.
Then, everything went black.
A few seconds later, Crowley’s eyes opened slowly, his lashes having rested carefully against the skin of his cheeks. He was laying on the floor, his body curled up on himself. A strong wave of familiarity washed over him from the position. The scars on his back worked as an alibi.
However, this once, he wasn’t surrounded by that dark, burning liquid. Instead, the carpet underneath him seemed almost gentle, compared to it.
He opened his eyes, looking up. Beside him sat Aziraphale. Seemingly just as disoriented as him. But that’s when he slowly realised. Aziraphale. There. With him. His plan had worked. “Angel…”
Aziraphale turned around. His eyes widened. “Crowley…?”
Crowley sat up, looking at him. Aziraphale’s eyes watered. Around them, the bookshop looked as it had always been. The morning light shone dimly through the wooden-framed windows, making the texture of Crowley’s jacket stand out. There were a few books spattered across the ground, probably having fallen due to the rumbling. The world had almost ended, either way.
Aziraphale reached for the closest book nearby, opening it. Inside, words stared back at him. Which was ironic, because in that moment, he could’ve sworn that he had no words left.
He looked back at the demon. Crowley looked back at him, smiling sweetly. A few stray tears escaped from his eyes.
He sighed shakily, reaching for Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale squeezed his hand back, smiling.
“It’s us now.” He uttered out. Aziraphale breathed.
“We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Crowley lunged towards him, faster than he had lunged towards the book, but gently. His knees laid on the carpet, one on each side of Aziraphale’s thighs. He kissed him deeply, his arms wrapping around the angel’s neck. Aziraphale closed his eyes, kissing him back, his hands settling on the demon’s cheeks.
Crowley breathed out, his jaw sliding down to Aziraphale’s neck, kissing at the soft skin. Aziraphale’s breath hitched, pulling Crowley’s hair as he panted.
“Six thousand years…” He muttered under his breath, his voice muffled by Aziraphale’s skin. “Six thousand damn years… And to think they could’ve taken you from me…” He growled, his hands reaching down to stroke Aziraphale’s thighs through the thick wool.
Aziraphale’s hand covered his own mouth. “Dear…”
“You feel even more real than before.” His warm breath ghosted against Aziraphale’s neck.
“Show me that damn bed of yours.” He growled.
Aziraphale smiled, his thoughts feeling dizzy. Crowley looked up from his neck, groaning. He stood up, pulling Aziraphale with him. His eyes drifted towards the window before they widened.
“My car!”