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Perhaps he had seen too many romantic movies, and had developed unrealistic expectations, but still, Crowley found Aziraphale’s reaction to his declaration to be just a wee bit disappointing.
It happened not long after their release from Heavenly and Hellish service. Free to do and say whatever he wanted to do and say, Crowley knew that what he wanted to do was spend all his time with his best friend, and what he wanted to say was exactly what he did say, during a walk in their favorite park.
“Angel?” He paused by a particularly majestic tree, so that its shadow could hide his eyes from passersby.
Aziraphale halted beside him. “Yes?”
Crowley took off his sunglasses and took a step closer. He smiled. “I love you.”
“How nice of you to say so.”
Crowley waited.
Nothing happened.
“Um,” Aziraphale said after an awkward few moments, “was that all?” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Because the sushi restaurant opens in fifteen minutes, and I do like to arrive early before the lunch rush.”
This never happened in the movies. Where were the big swooning exclamations of delight? Why hadn’t he gotten a gasping, tear-streaked reply, and what the Heaven happened to that hug he’d been looking forward to?
“Ngk,” he said.
“That isn’t a real word, my dear.”
“You’re supposed to say it back!” Crowley flailed his arms, just because he could.
Aziraphale pursed his lips, and then his face brightened. “Ah. I see. Do stop gyrating like a demented windmill. Of course I love you, too.”
“Oh.” Crowley dropped his arms. “Oh, good. That’s great. Thanks.” What the bloody hell just happened?
“Now, then, can we move along? I am quite peckish.” Aziraphale started off down the path.
“But…but…” After putting his sunglasses back on, Crowley trotted after to catch him up. “Aren’t you going to say more than that? I just—you just—we just—this is important!”
“I’m not sure what you wish me to say. You love me, and I love you. I have known this for thousands of years. I presume you have, too. How on Earth would we have ever managed to become friends otherwise?”
“Er…yeah, I suppose so…but these are words, not feelings! Spoken out loud!”
“Yes, and quite nicely, too. It was a lovely gesture, taking off your sunglasses. I do enjoy seeing your eyes.”
“Um, thanks. I guess.” Crowley simply could not figure out why his confession had failed to capture the grand emotional high which always seemed to occur when love was declared on screen.
Then again, those stories were fiction. This was reality. Had all those films steered him wrong? Did people not really behave in those ways in the real world? No hearts thumping, no flowers showering down, no fireworks…and not a single note of swelling, dramatic music to be heard.
Damn.
“Humans are a bunch of lying cheats,” he said as they strolled out of the park.
“I’m afraid I’m not following your train of thought,” Aziraphale replied.
“They promised me fireworks.”
“Who did? And why do you want fireworks?”
“Symbolic ones, not the real kind. Too noisy.”
“Ah. For what purpose?”
“To accentuate the declaration of love that I just made!”
“Hm. I am not familiar with this tradition. Is it a tradition, or did you make it up yourself?”
“You never go to the movies, that’s your trouble.” Maybe that was the problem. “The only romantic scenes you see are in books, and since you haven’t read anything written in this century, or the last one for that matter, no wonder you don’t have any idea how these things go.”
“Not true at all. I have performed countless blessings and miracles for people who needed a slight push to come together. It was one of my favorite tasks. However, I do not recall seeing any fireworks blasting off when the two people in question kissed each other. I should think that would be rather startling.”
“Aha!” Crowley said in triumph. “But you saw how they reacted! With lots of loving words, right? And embraces? And kissing!”
Aziraphale stopped in the middle of the pavement to stare at him. “Was that what you were expecting?”
“Yes! Well, I mean, at least a hug!”
“Oh.” Aziraphale fingered his chin a moment, and then said, “I really had no idea. You might have mentioned it earlier.”
“You were in a hurry to eat sushi!”
“Yes, and the restaurant is just up ahead, but if you would like a hug, then I am perfectly willing to accommodate your request.”
“Oh, you are, are you? Willing to accommodate me? Seriously?” Crowley felt an arm-flailing moment coming on, and tried to suppress it. “Angel, have you ever heard of acting spontaneously? You know, like just doing something without pondering first? Because you just feel like it? Because the person you love is standing there being needy and upset and confused and maybe it would feel nice to make them feel better because—”
Aziraphale grabbed his arm and pulled him into an embrace. “Shush. Stop that.”
“Urph.” Crowley felt strong arms wrap around him. Warmth enveloped him, and he nearly swooned. He put his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders and nuzzled his hair with his cheek. Heaven. Well, better than that, actually.
“Is this alright, my dear?”
“Mm hm.”
“I don’t truly know what you need…But whatever it is, I would like to give it to you as best I can.”
“This is good.” Crowley held on a while longer, lost in bliss, and then he pulled out of the embrace. “Sorry. I’m an idiot.”
“No, you aren’t.” Aziraphale smiled. “I believe you are merely being romantic, and I was not on the…same page?”
“Something like that.”
Aziraphale sighed. “I do tend to overthink things, I suppose.”
“Possibly. You know, a little bit.”
“It’s simply that I have never had to think overly much about how much I love you. Or how much you loved me. And so it did not dawn upon me that such declarations warranted any sort of extravagant response. They were quite true, you see, and they had been for a long, long time.”
“Right.” Crowley nodded. “Not exactly a surprise, then.”
“Not at all.”
“Even though it was the first time ever hearing it, or saying it, aloud?”
“I have heard it within my heart,” Aziraphale replied. “And seen it within your eyes so many, many times. That is why I enjoy looking at your eyes without those glasses on.”
“Got it.” Crowley smiled. “Always there. Nothing new.” He sighed. “Maybe I have watched too many romantic movies.”
“I believe that you have strong emotions,” Aziraphale said, “which rise to the surface quite easily, and—rather spontaneously. While I, too, have strong feelings, yet I tend to stifle them whenever possible, as I do find them distracting. My natural inclination is to be quiet, and comfortable, and to not be bothered by things which might upset my routine, or be…disturbing in any way.”
“Uh huh. Yeah, I know that.” Crowley sighed. They were opposites in many ways. And yet, he had always felt drawn to Aziraphale’s calmness, for he needed it. Whenever he felt overwhelmed by things, especially by the ineffable insanity of the Great Plan, and wanted to shout at the whole world, Aziraphale was there to keep him steady, and to be sensible.
He had needed that contrast to his own nature, to complement it, and he loved Aziraphale for being who he was, and for wanting to be there for him.
And Aziraphale needed him to occasionally jolt him out of complacency, to show him the more exciting things the world could offer, to give him a taste of that wildness which dwelled deep within, carefully shut away. He could safely touch the fire with Crowley’s help—without ever getting burned.
“Lunch time,” Aziraphale said. “Come along, please. You like the dragon roll, yes?”
“Yup.” He even ate all of it whenever they went out for sushi. “And let’s have plum wine, okay?”
They went to the restaurant, and throughout the meal, Crowley pretended everything was tickety-boo, though he also formed an idea for what to do after lunch.
He was going to show Aziraphale what he meant by fireworks.
*
After their meal, Crowley asked Aziraphale to his flat, offered him more wine, and then invited him to watch The Princess Bride.
“Ah,” Aziraphale said to this suggestion, “would that be one of those romantic cinematographic shows which you believe have led you astray?”
“It’s mostly a comedy. Lots of action, too. But yeah, there’s romance in it. And true love.”
“You placed a rather odd emphasis on those words.”
“Yeah, you’ll see. Indulge me, Angel?”
“Very well, my dear.”
They settled in on the sofa together. Crowley turned on the television, found the film, and just before hitting Play, he dimmed the living room lights.
*
When the end credits rolled, Crowley left the lights low. Aziraphale had laughed a lot during the movie, and had slowly inched closer to him during the more romantic scenes, and had clutched his arm during the sword fights.
They were now sitting thigh to thigh. They had finished off the bottle of wine some time ago, but Crowley had no intention of moving to go fetch a new one.
“So,” he said as he flicked off the TV, “what did you think?”
“I can see why you said ‘true love’ that way earlier. Most amusing.”
“Um hm.”
“The sword fighting was splendidly entertaining. I was rooting for Inigo all the way.”
“Great character, yeah.”
“All the characters were well drawn, I thought. I must ask, is Miracle Max supposed to be an angel in disguise?”
“Probably. You never know.”
“And do you see yourself as a dread pirate? Am I meant to be the Princess?”
“Nah. You’re more of the helpful farm boy type, I think.”
“Ah. Would that make you the Princess, then? I merely assumed that I was, because of the way you tend to come to my rescue.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not exact matches, you know. Just an example of…well…true love.”
“I did not see any fireworks, my dear, but I take your point.”
“The music swelled at the end. And there was a horse. Riding off into the sunset on a horse is pretty romantic.”
“You hate riding horses. So do I.”
“Point taken.”
Aziraphale went a bit quiet then, and Crowley wondered if he had chosen the right movie with which to express his feelings about romance. There certainly were plenty of ones he had seen which were not comedy adventures—movies that focused intensely on the couple and their relationship—but that had not seemed like them to him.
“Angel? What are you thinking about?”
“I am thinking about why you picked this particular story to show me.”
Ah. “I thought you’d like it.”
“I did. But…well, I was under the impression that it would be about a romance. I have read novels, you see, which are considered romantic. Austen, Bronte, and the like. It is possible that I am not remembering them thoroughly, yet as far as I can recall, they did not contain very much in the way of sword fights, or pirates, or daring escapes from fiery swamp pits infested with enormous members of the rodent family.”
“Right. No, probably not.”
“And while your choice did have a romance within it, that element did not dominate the overall story.”
“Yeah, I know.” He had chosen the best movie, after all, and he knew why. “That’s because it doesn’t. For us, I mean. Not that I want to have any more daring adventures together—we’ve had enough of those. It’s more about the…I don’t know…the sort of…” Gah. What was he trying to say?
“Perhaps it’s about the general tone of our relationship?”
Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s what I meant. Overall, an enjoyable story, with danger that’s always overcome, and with just enough laughter, and at times, a little romance.”
“And we are two friends who enjoy each other’s company, and wish to do fun things together, and who sometimes also like to express—” Aziraphale waved a hand at the darkened living room. “To express our love in as many ways as possible.”
“Which, at times, can be more romantic, yes.” Crowley had an old-fashioned CD-player in the living room. He snapped his fingers, and told it silently to play romantic instrumental music or else.
Violin music wafted softly into the room.
“Very nice,” Aziraphale said. “I am sensing a certain mood here right now.” He took Crowley’s hand in his. “And I feel like making a spontaneous gesture of affection.”
Crowley looked at their hands, so suddenly joined without any prompting. Did his friend finally understand what he needed? “That sounds good.”
Aziraphale pressed his hand gently, and then he leaned in to place a light kiss on Crowley’s forehead. “I do feel true love for you. It has been such a strong foundation of my long life here on Earth, as has the love which I knew you gave to me, that it seemed the same to me as breathing. I am afraid that I took it for granted.”
Crowley tried hard to keep his body from trembling out of sheer joy, and failed. He felt as if those damned fireworks were going off inside his chest. “I didn’t know that, Angel,” he said with a little crack in his voice. “I didn’t know.”
“Yet you knew that I loved you?”
“Yes.” Crowley brought their joined hands to his lips, and kissed Aziraphale’s fingertips. “I did. I just…didn’t know it was so strong that I never had to say it out loud at all. That it was just… there.” He put his other hand on Aziraphale’s chest. “Always.” Like breathing… like life itself…a person didn’t need to constantly shout to the universe, I am alive, I am breathing!
“I believe,” Aziraphale said, “now that I think back on it, that I ought to have hugged you in the park.”
“It was sort of what I was expecting.”
“And perhaps gone all giddy with happiness, and given you a kiss?”
Crowley lifted an eyebrow. “On the lips?”
“Possibly.” Aziraphale smiled. “I rather messed up your big moment, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did do that.” Crowley felt a shiver of anticipation along his spine. “I think you’re doing a nice job of making up for it now.”
“The romance within that motion picture was quite instructive. The lighting in here is conducive to closeness, and the music is definitely creating feelings of an emotionally moving nature.”
“You don’t analyze romance, Angel. You just go for it.”
“I know that now. I also happen to know this particular piece of music very well, and there is an extremely romantic movement coming up in…about one and a half minutes…which I am intending to make good use of.”
Crowley shook his head. “I’m not a patient person. You’re making my chest go all weird and quivery.”
“Shhh. Just wait….besides, my abdomen feels all fluttery, so the tension is mutual.”
Crowley waited, every nerve on end. Only a minute more, surely…how could sixty seconds last so long… come on …he listened as the strains of the orchestral music filled the room, and a solitary violin rose above the sound, rising and falling as it wove into an intensely dramatic movement. And then the piece slowed, and quieted, and the solo violin seemed to dance upon the air as if questing for its lost accompaniment…until the rest of the violins returned little by little, and the sound grew in volume once more, and the tempo suddenly caught fire as the music swelled, as all the instruments played together towards a swirling crescendo—
And suddenly Aziraphale’s lips were on his own, and Crowley fell headlong into a kiss.
All the trembling and quivering vanished in a touch. As their lips met, as their arms went round each other, holding tight, as their eyes closed and the music soared, Crowley felt everything that had ever been uncertain in his world dissolve into nothingness, and he felt all the cracks heal over, and the wholeness of his world became a new strength within him. He kissed Aziraphale, and was loved by Aziraphale, and it felt like breathing the fire of life itself.
Of course it had always been there. No wonder his Angel had been so nonchalant about that declaration of love…he may as well have been declaring the truth of existing. It was fundamental. He had not told Aziraphale that he loved him. He had told him that the sun rose in the east, and the stars shone at night. He had told him everything that he already knew and nothing new, and as he lost himself in that beautiful caress, Crowley lost himself to the truth of love—that it was not a separate thought from the rest of his mind, that it was not a different word from the whole of his vocabulary, that it lived in every cell of his being, that it had spoken to Aziraphale every hour of every day for as long as he had known him.
The music slowed, and as the final notes died away, they broke apart.
They stayed in their embrace.
Crowley opened his eyes to gaze upon a pair of shining angelic ones looking at him with amazement.
“You’re so beautiful,” Crowley said softly. He touched Aziraphale’s hair, brushing through the curled strands. “Can I have another go at what I tried to tell you in the park?”
“You may.”
“Angel, there is a joy that radiates from within you that captures me in its glow every day. I hear music when you smile. I feel whole whenever you are near. I’ve been swept away by your love, and you are like breathing to me now. Like life itself, you are all things to me.” He kissed Aziraphale’s temple. “Please let me love you forever.”
“Oh, my dear…” Aziraphale gasped, and he touched Crowley’s cheek. “That was…oh, my.”
Crowley smiled. “Romantic?”
Aziraphale nodded. “So terribly romantic. May I have another try at my response, please?”
“By all means.”
“Yes. Well. I…you…it’s rather overwhelming.”
“Take your time. I know it’s not easy for you, after keeping everything neatly and tidily tucked away in that mental compartment you have for strong feelings for so long. But you don’t need to keep them safe any more.”
“No. No, I don’t.” Aziraphale sighed. “Thank you.”
“And if you don't want to say a single word, I’ll still know how you feel.”
“Yes, that is true. But I would like to say something. Because if you had told me those things back at the park, I would like to believe that I would have said that I loved you straight away, and would have hugged you quite fiercely, and even—possibly—gone giddy with joy.”
“You’re good at doing that, Angel. When you’re truly having fun.”
“That’s why I said ‘possibly’. This is a bit different than fun…not that it isn’t, just, that it’s quite a bit more than that.”
“Yeah, I’d like to think so.”
“Oh, Crowley. My dearest friend.” Aziraphale pulled him into a tight embrace, and whispered in his ear. “I wish we could start over. From the very beginning, without constraints of any kind. I wish that when we stood on the Wall of Eden that I could have taken you in my arms, because I wanted to—I was so overjoyed to see you again. I wish I had not felt forced to hide away my feelings for so long that they settled into such a quiet state. What I said earlier…in the park and later on…about how I already knew about our love for each other…because it was familiar to me, and not extraordinary—how could it be, when it was never allowed a chance to become extraordinary? But it is.”
“Don’t fret over it, Angel. I understand.”
“Do you? Truly?”
Crowley nodded, his cheek brushing against Aziraphale’s cheek. “It was both. Familiar and extraordinary. You kept hold of the one, while I kept hoping for the other.”
“Ah. And now…now they have joined together.”
“In a way.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in both hands. “In a way, we are starting over.”
“Oh. Yes. Starting over, without all that nonsense about keeping things inside. Yes, I like that idea.” Aziraphale paused. “Are you holding my face this way as a hint that you would like another kiss?”
“I am, although I want to do something first.”
“Hm?”
Crowley let go for a few moments to snap his fingers. The TV set turned on, and he gave it a little miraculous suggestion as to what to play.
“Right.” He cupped Aziraphale’s face once more. “Will you let me have another kiss now?”
Aziraphale smiled. “As you wish,” he replied.
As their lips met again in a long, familiar, and extraordinary kiss, in the background, across the huge TV screen, the longest, brightest, and most astonishing fireworks erupted, in one rolling explosion of color after another.
And Crowley thoroughly enjoyed every single blast.
***