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Crowley doesn’t like thunderstorms.
In fact, he didn’t like any of those things that made people move closer to each other. A storm, the cold, things that many humans found scary or uncomfortable. Things that, in the company of someone else, don’t seem so bad anymore.
But he particularly disliked thunderstorms.
He wasn’t scared of them. Didn’t really understand why anyone would be scared of them. Not anymore at least, what with lightning rods and everything. The chances of actually being harmed were very low, but then again, fear wasn’t something you could cure with logic.
And that was something Crowley did understand. Fear. The question of what if? What if I get wet? What if I get crushed by a falling tree? What if I get struck by lightning? What if Hell finds out he wasn’t actually immune to holy water? What if they come for him? What if they come for Aziraphale?
He didn’t like thunderstorms because of how they made him feel.
The thought of someone curling up next to the person they love, feeling safe despite the fear or unease the loud thunder might cause.
When you thought about it, it was rather ridiculous. That a situation could make a person feel scared to death but then when the person they cared most about was next to them, they somehow felt safe. As if, even if this would be their end, there was nothing much to worry about because the most important thing, the most important person, was there with them.
Ridiculous and yet when earth had been close to its destruction, all Crowley had wanted to do was be with Aziraphale, run away with him. And it would have been fine. They would have been fine. Because they had each other.
He didn’t like thunderstorms because they made him feel lonely. He didn’t have anyone to curl up next to. He didn’t have Aziraphale. At least not like that.
Crowley was standing in front of one of the windows in his flat. The dark blue of a stormy evening was interrupted only by a few lit widows and the streetlights illuminating the road below. Crowley watched the moving pattern of raindrops falling onto its wet surface.
It had been raining almost nonstop these past four days and while he didn’t exactly love sunny days, this definitely had a negative effect on his mood. Especially with the occasional thunder growling in the distance and lightning lighting up the sky.
Maybe his bad mood was also due to the fact that he hadn’t heard from Aziraphale in a few weeks. Two weeks and four days to be exact (Yes, he had counted.) Which really wasn’t that long, but it felt like years.
He could have called himself or just showed up at Aziraphale’s bookshop but ever since (almost) Armageddon he felt he was being clingy and he didn’t want to bother Aziraphale. Really, he had to get a grip on himself. But what if Aziraphale was in danger? Nonono, the fact that he’d been counting days was already a sign that his mind was simply putting too much focus on it.
It wasn’t just worry though tugging at his heart and attention. He missed Aziraphale. Two bloody weeks and he already missed the angel. Crowley groaned at himself.
Plants, he thought. That’s what he would do now. He would go water his plants, let out his frustration, maybe hold a monologue about unrequited love and then go watch a movie just like he had every night since it started raining.
Just when he was about to leave the room, he heard his telephone ringing. There were only three options as to who this might be. Either it was someone from Hell, the guy who kept calling about his unpaid rent or it was Aziraphale. He was next to the telephone in an instant, peering down at the calling number. His heart did a little jump before he picked up, answering with a way too casual “Yes?”
“Hello, it’s Aziraphale.” Hearing his voice felt like a relief. Not because he had worried (although he definitely had); it was the kind you feel when entering a warm room after spending some time outside in the cold. “Yeah I know, I recognized your number.”
He was leaning with his hip against the table, one hand on its surface and the other holding the phone. He looked very casual if you were to ask him.
“Oh, right. Well, I was wondering whether you’re free on Saturday?” Aziraphale asked. As if he had anything else to do now that he didn’t get orders and tasks from hell anymore. “Sure, what’s on Saturday?”
There was a beat of silence. “A bonfire.” Crowley groaned “A bonfire?”
“Just hear me out. Yesterday I met Anathema and she told me about how Newt's grandmother and her husband are organising this bonfire for their anniversary. They do it every year, quite a lovely tradition if you ask me, and she sort of invited us to come.”
Crowley looked at the window with a frown. “With this kind of weather? No chance they’ll be able to light a bonfire.” He heard the rustling of paper. “It’s in two days so maybe it’ll change but if not- well, I’m sure a little miracle won’t hurt.”
Crowley thought about it. He hadn’t spoken to either Anathema or Newt since he had seen them that day on the air base and even then they had barely exchanged words. And it wouldn’t be just them, there’d be other people. But it was Aziraphale asking him to go and faced with the alternative of more rainy days alone in his flat, of course he said “Alright, where is it exactly this bonfire is taking place?”
He could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice when he told him the location and any attempt at immediate regret vanished. “… it’s on a beach. And I know it’s a bit out of town but I thought you could drive us?” Crowley made an agreeing noise.
“Wonderful! Pick me up at around 2pm?” Aziraphale asked. “Yep.”
He thought that was it but then “Oh, and don’t forget to wear warm clothes! We’ll be by the sea, so it’ll most likely be windy.” Crowley rolled his eyes, though it was more affectionate than anything else. “Yes, yes, I know Angle.”
“Alright, see you Saturday.” Said Aziraphale.
“Bye.”
The two weeks and four days were forgotten and Crowley decided that the plants could wait until tomorrow.
Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by growling thunder and Crowley growled back.
When he sat down to watch a movie, he instantly stood up again, restless with questions like, did he even own any warm clothes that looked at least half decent?
But after a good deal of trying to answer them, when his couch did receive him with its usual comfort and he put on a movie, he felt satisfied letting his thoughts go, knowing when they did return, they`d revolve around the fact that he’d see Aziraphale.
----------
It was exactly 5 minutes to 2pm when Crowley’s Bentley pulled up in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop.
Clothing-wise, Crowley had settled for leather trousers, a sweater and a coat on top, plus a scarf if needed. His hair was getting longer and right now it was just that bit too long because sometimes a strand would fall in front of his glasses and it was quite bothersome.
Crowley thought about going inside the bookshop but decided that honking would do the job.
It did work because shortly after, Aziraphale came out of the door, locking it from outside before heading for the Bentley.
He was wearing a knitted sweater and tartan trousers. Now whether tartan was stylish was definitely arguable but Crowley had started to find his Angel's fondness for tartan rather endearing. He would never admit that out loud though.
Aziraphale opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat, leaning back to put the jacket he’d been carrying on the backseat before turning back to look at him.
“You could have just come inside instead of startling the whole neighbourhood.”
Crowley started driving as he replied with a simple “I know.”
It was still raining, which made it harder to navigate through the streets of London but the traffic wasn’t too bad.
He let his fingers lightly drum on the steering wheel as they were standing by a red light. Usually, Crowley would ignore things like traffic lights but he had decided to drive a little more carefully today. It’d be a longer drive and he didn’t want Aziraphale getting car sick.
“So, what have you been up to these past few weeks?” Crowley asked.
“Not much really. I tidied up the bookshop a bit and then a few days ago I visited some second-hand bookshops to see if I could find anything interesting. Which was rather a bad idea because I did find a couple books so then I had to carry them home while trying to shield them from the rain. It was quite the task, let me tell you.”
“Is that where you met Anathema?”
“Yes, she was looking for cooking books if I remember correctly? Said she sort of gave up on the whole witchcraft thing and now wanted to try something new.”
He nodded. “Anything from upstairs?”
“No. Anything from downstairs?” So Aziraphale hadn’t heard from their former authorities either. That was good.
“Nah.”
“And you? What have you been, um… up to?”
“Oh, just the usual.”
The silence was filled by the constant pitter patter of rain hitting the car.
“Music?” Crowley asked, giving the angel a short questioning glace.
“Why not.”
Having the confirmation, Crowley blindly reached for the music, though his hand didn’t get far because it bumped into Aziraphale’s, who was doing the same thing.
Crowley immediately pulled back, while Aziraphale froze and just stared at his hand for a moment.
“Sorry.” The angel said.
“No uh, it's fine, you choose.” Crowley tried to focus on the road.
Aziraphale took the first CD his hand landed on, he probably knew that most of the music wasn’t what it said on the label anyway. It turned out to be Queen. Surprise!
They had left central London behind them. The more distance they put between the buzzing city and themselves, the less cars there were on the streets and Crowley could finally drive faster.
Long away by Queen started playing.
They arrived at their destination one and a half hours later. Crowley didn’t exactly know where it was they were driving but he knew what turnings to take and what roads to follow. It was basic demon instinct.
He stopped at a small parking lot near the beach.
It had stopped raining a while ago and although the clouds were still there, Aziraphale had been right about the wind. The clouds moved at a rapid pace which gave them occasional moments of sun but also moments of complete cloud covered sky.
Crowley got out of the car. There was a light breeze and he heard the sound of seagulls coming from somewhere in the distance. Aziraphale got his jacket and put it on, reaching back another time. He shut the door and held out a pile of fabric. “You want to take this with you?”
There was another breeze that ruffled Aziraphale’s hair a bit. Crowley had the wild notion to run his hand through it. He blinked and tried to remember what the angel had said but then his gaze fell on the thing Aziraphale was holding and recognized what looked like a large green spaghetti noodle as his scarf. “Oh, yeah, thanks.”
When he reached for it their fingers lightly brushed and Crowley quickly threw the scarf around his neck. He liked to think it looked stylish like that but it probably did just look like a big green spaghetti noodle.
They made their way over a small dam-like hill. Crowley spotted a man behind them who seemed to be heading in the same direction.
When they reached the beach they could already see what probably was a decently big pile of wood.
“Didn’t you say something about arriving early and helping them set up the fire?”
Aziraphale frowned. “Maybe they thought it would rain later so they decided to set it up earlier?” They were now getting closer and there seemed to be a handful of people already.
“I certainly don’t mind.” Crowley said.
“Actually,” The demon wiped his head around and saw that the man he’d spotted before had caught up and was now talking to them. “This is just the base layer. At least I think so because last time it was definitely bigger.”
They both just stared for a second before Aziraphale politely asked whether he was a friend of the Pulcifer family.
“Oh, my bad, how rude of me not to introduce myself.” Crowley wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to because frankly he didn’t care. “I’m Jeff and yes, I’m a friend of the family.”
Aziraphale gave him a smile “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Aziraphale and this is Crowley.” The demon forced a smile and waved awkwardly “And we’re also friends of the family. Sort of.”
Jeff nodded “But you’re not from this town, are you? I’ve never seen you around.”
“Ah, no. We’re from, eh…“ Aziraphale gave Crowley a questioning look but then just said “London.”
Around the yet to be bon fire stood a couple tables and Jeff went to greet the people that were already there. Aziraphale nudged Crowley and pointed to where the ocean hit the sand. There were a few kids playing.
“Isn’t that Adam and his friends?”
Now that he had said it Crowley recognized them as well.
“Oh, it is. I suppose Anathema invited them too.”
The last time Aziraphale and Crowley had seen them was when they checked up on the four kids a few weeks after the apocalypse.
Anathema came walking towards them, dragging Newt with her.
“Hey, I’m glad you could make it.” She said.
As usual, Aziraphale did the polite banter which Crowley was thankful for.
“We’re glad to be here. Is there anything we can help with?”
Okay maybe not so thankful anymore.
“Um, yes. Right now, someone is getting the rest of the wood and some benches so when they arrive you could help carry the stuff from the parking lot over here.”
“Alright, well, we don’t want to hold you up, you look very busy.”
“I am.” She gave them a nod and smiled before leaving with Newt to talk to someone else.
“You didn’t have to offer them our help.”
“But it’s polite! And it’s also sort of why we’re here.” Aziraphale shortly looked back to where they had entered the beach. “Though that is a long way to carry benches.”
“And what for? I mean this looks like the whole town will come.”
Aziraphale yelped when suddenly a voice came from next to them.
“You’re not completely wrong, mate. I’m not sure whether you’ll get to hear the story so I’m just gonna tell you.” Somehow Jeff had yet again overheard them asking a question.
“So, fifty years ago Matilda and Noah, they’re over there,” Jeff pointed at an elderly couple to their left “got married and twelve years later they moved here. They had a tradition of making a fire every year on their marriage anniversary and because it’s a small town everyone knew about it after a few years. You have to know they’re really nice people, everybody here loves them. So, for their 20 th anniversary they invited a bunch of people over and for their 25 th even more and from there on every 5 years they celebrated together with whoever would come. By now it will probably be almost the whole town. It’s become quite the town tradition. And as you may know, this year we’re celebrating their 50 th anniversary. So yeah, that’s the story.” He looked really happy about getting to tell them this.
Crowley had to admit that was something you didn’t hear every day.
Aziraphale seemed to be impressed as well. “Fifty years? That’s a long time for a human marriage to last.” The angel didn’t even have time to worry about the way he worded that because Jeff just laughed “Yeah, us humans aren’t that great at staying with one person for that long, are we?” Aziraphale laughed nervously and replied “I guess not.”
“How long have you two been together?” Jeff asked.
“For about twenty years? We met at my job. I was a park guard.” Aziraphale smiled.
Crowley did a double take at the angel and then looked at Jeff to make sure the sentence he just heard wasn’t a product of his imagination but the man just smiled warmly in return.
“Well, I hope you have a good time today.”
“A park-guard?” Crowley asked when Jeff was gone.
“There is some truth to it.”
“Wha- Did you think of this beforehand?” The angel’s nonchalance was so disorienting that for an absurd second he thought he’d somehow missed a major shift in their relationship but now Aziraphale looked slightly embarrassed.
“I thought people might ask questions and since our status here today is that we’re a couple I thought it’d be good to have something that isn’t ‘We met 6000 years ago in the garden of Eden.’”
Ah, that made sense. Hold on- “Our status is that we’re a couple?” He repeated lamely.
“Well, Anathema definitely thinks that’s what we are.”
A worried expression crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Or if you’re uncomfortable with that we could just tell her we’re not of course, I don’t think-“
“No, no, I’m fine with it.” He interrupted because he was. Maybe a little too fine…
It didn’t matter, Crowley decided. Humans loved their statuses and they were much easier to interact with if the status they’d assigned you in their head aligned with the one you had, so this was clever really. Just a shift in how they introduced themselves, a bit of performative interaction and if anyone bothered to know, the story of their normal, totally human existences. No biggie.
“No biggie.” He said and cringed at himself but the angel looked delighted.
“Great, should we say hello to Matilda and Noah?”
For a moment Crowley was confused but then he remembered. “Oh yes, the couple, I guess we should.”
They spotted the pair not far away and walked over to them. “Mrs. Pulcifer, Mr. Pulcifer? Hi, we are friends of Newt and Anathema.”
Matilda gave them a warm smile. “Hello, she said she invited some friends! Oh, and please call us Matilda and Noah.” Noah nodded. “It’s wonderful to have you here today. Where are you from?”
To his own surprise Crowley was the one who replied. “London.”
Matilda raised her eyebrows. “Oh, the big city. So you drove here?”
“Yeah, I drove us. That’s how I knew he really wanted to come. He hates my driving.”
That made Matilda chuckle. Crowley didn’t know why he even participated in this conversation. It felt like some couple-to-couple talk. Maybe that’s exactly why he liked it.
Aziraphale eyed him. “You drive like a madman.”
He frowned. “Less today though.”
“Wait, that was on purpose?”
He looked at Aziraphale, suddenly very aware of the other two pairs of eyes watching them and shrugged, mumbling “Didn’t want you getting car sick.”
The angel looked like he was about to call him a four-letter word but then instead turned his attention back to Matilda and Noah. “Sorry, um, we wanted to congratulate you! Such a long relationship is rare, you must have something special.”
Matilda briefly looked at Noah and you could see the fondness in her eyes.
“Thank you. You two seem like you have something special too.”
Crowley felt himself blush and silently cursed his blood vessels which apparently weren’t in on the pretence of it.
Something behind them had caught Noah’s attention. “Did you want to help carry things? Because I think they’re going now.”
Crowley and Aziraphale looked behind them and saw a group of people starting to walk towards the beach exit.
“Oh yeah. It was lovely talking to you two.”
They joined the small group that was heaving benches from the parking lot to the tables. Adam and his friends joined them as well though they didn’t really help but instead pretend the group were their hostages. They were playing pirates.
It didn’t come as a surprise that Jeff loved to talk and Crowley half-heartedly swore to himself that he would never do anything like this again.
Aziraphale didn’t look too excited either and somehow ended up joining in on playing pirates except, he wasn’t one, he was the main hostage and being questioned.
More people started arriving and he decided that everything was better than carrying benches across the beach so Crowley asked to be a hostage as well and the kids tied Aziraphale and him to one of the benches already at its destination.
"I hate this." Crowley said, staring at a seagull that had, with every minute gone by without him moving, moved closer and was now standing by his right foot.
The kids had left to do something else but he was still sitting on the sand with his back against Aziraphale’s. He had simply surrendered to whatever this day was. The seagull cocked its head to the side.
Aziraphale sighed. "Yeah, I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea."
Crowley wasn’t sure whether he meant the whole trip or just the playing hostages thing.
"Do you think we can untie ourselves? There are more and more people coming and this is getting embarrassing."
"Mhm, we should probably stand up."
Before they could do any such thing, a little girl abruptly stopped in front of Crowley startling the bird by his feet into leaving in a clumsy take off.
"I am here to retrieve the hostages so we can cook you over our fire."
Crowley blinked in confusion. "Wot?"
He could feel Aziraphale trying to turn around. "Who said that?"
The girl narrowed her eyes. "I am Rose and I asked whether you want to sit with us by our campfire." She must have arrived only minutes ago.
"As long as you untie us."
She thought about it for longer than necessary and then said "Deal."
Rose turned out to be one of Newt's cousins and they were now sitting around a small campfire the Them, as they called themselves, had made together with Rose and her friend.
They were sat on pillows, a bit away from the big pile of wood that had grown even bigger in the last 30 minutes.
"We aren’t allowed to stay longer than 6pm since we are here without our parents. That means we’ll miss the big fire, so we made our own." Adam explained. Pepper continued “Anathema and Newt took us here with their car" not the blue one Brian noted, "but on our way back we’ll take the train."
Wensleydale nodded enthusiastically. "My parents usually don’t let me take the train on my own but they said today is an exception."
"Well, you’re not alone, are you? You’ve got us." Pepper argued.
"You know what I mean. Alone without parents."
Crowley looked next to him at Aziraphale, not quite knowing how to behave in this group of kids. Aziraphale seemed a bit lost as well before he asked "And what gives us the honor of sitting here with you?"
Adam looked over at them. "First of all, you’re still our hostages and we demanded you to be here," these kids really had some attitude "but also because you were the only adults that took us being pirates seriously and that deserves recognition."
Crowley nodded slowly "Thanks?"
And because they didn’t really have a better offer, they stayed.
One of the kids got marshmallows and they pushed twigs through them so they could hold them above the fire.
"Come on, just try it!" Aziraphale held out a second twig with a marshmallow on it as he was trying to convince Crowley to at least hold it over the fire.
"Fine." He took the twig.
"What, no not that close!" Aziraphale gently guided Crowley’s hand so that the marshmallow was at a good height above the small flames, at the side of the fire.
The kids had gotten into an argument about how to select the crew captain. Pepper thought the women should be captains since they were way smarter which Rose and her friend agreed with, Adam thought they should vote and got Wensleydale on his side, and Brain thought a pirate crew should fight it out and whoever wins becomes captain.
"It looks like it’s three, against two, against one so the women win." Pepper announced and Rose and her friend high-fived to celebrate.
Crowley felt a hand on his. The angel had reached out to turn his hand so the marshmallow wouldn’t burn on one side, which it probably would have with Crowley zoned in on what the kids were doing.
Before he could stare at where the angel's touch had left a tingling sensation for too long, their being addressed made him snap back to reality.
"Wait, what about them?" Brain pointed at Aziraphale and Crowley. "Shouldn’t we hear what the hostages have to say?" Everyone nodded.
"I think," Crowley said and tried to figure out what he thought, "you should think about who’d be the best captain and not what would be the best way to choose a captain."
Yep, that sounded reasonable.
"And listen more to each other. Talk with each other instead of against each other. Together you should talk it through." The angel added and Crowley nodded.
"As a crew."
Aziraphale pointed at Crowley as if to emphasise what he had said. "Exactly, talk it through as a crew."
Adam seemed to think about it. "I don’t know, that sounds kinda boring." The kids agreed on that one.
"How do I know it’s done?" Crowley asked and Aziraphale took a look at his marshmallow. "When you see it starting to melt or it has a gold brown colour."
Aziraphale had already pulled his marshmallow from the fire and started eating it. Crowley watched suspiciously.
"The texture seems weird." Crowley observed while Aziraphale fought with the marshmallow that was sticking to his finger.
"It’s just really sticky." Said Rose's friend. "I don’t actually like marshmallows, I just think they’re fun to eat." That made Crowley even more sceptical.
He was now watching his marshmallow like it was his baby.
"You know it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to taste good." Aziraphale told him.
"I know, it’s not done yet." Crowley said but then took a closer look to be sure and "Actually, yeah no it’s done."
"You’ll probably have to wait a second until it cools down. You can try a piece from mine if you want."
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the gooey white thing hanging from Aziraphale’s twig. He reached out and pulled a piece off it before holding it in front of his face to take a closer look. Aziraphale chuckled. "It’s not toxic in case you’re wondering."
Crowley took a bit. "Wha- that’s so sweet! That’s like pure sugar!"
Rose's friend giggled "That’s like the whole point."
Crowley looked at Aziraphale like a dog whose owner stepped on their paw.
"You don’t have to eat it dear." Aziraphale pointed out.
Crowley did eat his piece and tried to get the sticky remains off his fingers, eventually using teeth and tongue but he didn’t even worry about the ridiculousness of it anymore since he had already been in some humiliating situations today.
When he was done, he caught Aziraphale staring and almost dropped his twig. Again, he cursed his blood vessels because he was definitely blushing.
"Nooooo!" Rose whined after her marshmallow had melted too much and fallen into the flames.
"Here, you can have mine." There was a big grin on her face as she accepted Crowley’s marshmallow stick. “Thanks.”
By now the air around them was filled with talking and there was a proper crowd of people. On the tables were bowls and plates of food the people had brought with them and the benches were mostly filled.
When he thought about it, Crowley probably much preferred sitting with the kids over listening to boring conversations the adults were having.
Aziraphale and a few of the kids got some food from the tables before sitting back down at the campfire that was now fighting for its life, with most of the twigs it was made of having burnt down.
Crowley and Aziraphale sat in comfortable conversation while watching some of the kids steal branches from the big wood pile like they were out to steal the queens’ corgis.
It all really felt like it was more of a random celebration rather than the one of only two people but he had the suspicion that for whatever reason that was how the two wanted it to be.
Newt briefly came by to check up on the kids and when everyone was sat Matilda, Anathema and Jeff, who was apparently really good friends with the couple, said a few words.
After a while, Newt came back to get the Them and drive them to the train station.
It was slowly getting darker and once Newt was back, they’d finally light the big bonfire. Crowley was at one of the tables where they collected the used plates. Rose and her friend had begged him to carry their plates and cutlery here for them and because he wanted to stand up anyway, since sitting on the ground without anything to lean against got pretty uncomfortable after a while, he did it and took Aziraphale’s used plate too.
When he walked back to their little campfire, he saw that Aziraphale wasn’t there anymore and instead spotted him standing a bit more far away at the shoreline.
He walked up to him.
Aziraphale was watching as a wave rolled toward the beach, crashed and withdrew again just for the next wave to come and do the same.
Crowley watched Aziraphale’s eyes travel up to the horizon, a slight smile spreading across his face.
"It’s beautiful, isn’t it?" The angel said.
Crowley followed his gaze to the horizon. The sky was covered by clouds yet leaving some spaces where you could see the sky. The sun must have been setting somewhere behind them because the edges of the lower clouds were painted a glowing orange. The sky in the distance just above the sea was dark; it was probably storming over there.
He looked back at Aziraphale, at the way the weak orange light put a warm hue on his face, the way his almost white hair reflected the orange colours, the way he could see the clouds in Aziraphale’s eyes. He looked truly relaxed.
"Yeah, it is." He answered.
Maybe he put a little too much honesty into these words because Aziraphale gave him a little surprised look before looking at the sea again.
"You know, I thought maybe it’d be nice to get a cottage somewhere by the sea. Imagine going for a walk at the beach in the morning, maybe even sitting down and reading a nice book! Ah, well no, you don’t want to get sand between your pages but it’d be lovely anyway."
By the sea. Away from London. Away from him.
"What about your bookshop?" Crowley asked.
"Well, of course it’d be sad to say goodbye to it but as long as I have somewhere else to store my books, it’d be alright. It’s hardly a shop anyway"
They had spent centuries not seeing each other but somehow now only the thought of Aziraphale moving away even if he stayed in England stung.
Crowley shrugged. "If that’s what you want."
He could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him as he occupied himself with drawing stars in the wet sand with his foot.
"You could come with me."
Crowley’s head shot up. Aziraphale was looking at him and Crowley couldn’t find anything in his expression that told him he was joking. It was an honest suggestion.
This time it was Crowley who almost shrieked when Jeff's voice suddenly came from behind them.
"Heyyy, I hope I’m not interrupting an intimate moment or something." He laughed, not waiting for an answer. "I saw you’ve been hanging with the kids and then I just saw you here standing by yourselves and thought 'let’s check if everything’s alright with the London chaps though they’re probably just admiring the sea' I mean you don’t get to see it that often, right?"
Crowley was definitely not plotting some demonic miracle to ruin this guy’s day.
"Right. Yes, we were actually just admiring the sea." Aziraphale said, trying to hide his obvious irritation at the man’s sudden appearance.
Jeff took a look at the horizon himself. "We got really lucky with the weather today. I mean, for one moment we even thought we’d have to cancel the bonfire. And see the clouds back there? That’s definitely a thunderstorm. But don’t worry, it’ll probably pass us."
Crowley really wasn’t worried and he also really didn’t want to talk about thunderstorms.
"Say how’s the weather in London?"
He was staring at the dark clouds and definitely not thinking about setting this man’s car on fire.
"Similar to how it is here, I think. Just lots of rain and thunderstorms." The angel willed himself to smile. Jeff nodded.
Lightning flashed across the patch of dark sky Crowley was starting at.
"See! That was lightning. By the way did you know that a lightning bolt is hotter than the sun?"
This time Crowley answered.
"No, I didn’t. I hate thunderstorms." He said in an almost growl that most beings would have taken as their sign to leave. Jeff was not most beings.
"Oh, well they’re quite fascinating really. But I guess you can’t help what you’re scared of." He shrugged and had the nerve to give him a sympathetic smile.
“Well, I never said I was scared of them. I just don’t like them.” Crowley was so irritated by the man’s talent not to take anything personally, he forgot to sound mean.
Aziraphale was looking at him with an odd expression he couldn’t quite read. The angel was probably displeased about Crowley’s rudeness.
"Anyways, I think they’re gonna light the bonfire pretty soon, just so you know. Don’t wanna miss that."
Aziraphale chirped into the conversation again to say thank you.
When Jeff walked away, he stumbled and looked very confused to find that his shoe laces were tied together. Crowley grinned mischievously. That’ll do.
"Really?" Aziraphale gave him an accusing look.
"Come on, you cannot tell me he didn’t annoy you at least a bit."
Aziraphale scowled. "I’m sure he meant well."
He rolled his eyes but yelped when something cold suddenly touched his ankle, jumping back from the water a particularly big wave had brought there.
He cursed while Aziraphale, who had been quick enough to avoid the water, gave a startled laugh. Crowley glowered at the angel which only made him laugh harder.
“I didn’t do anything!” Aziraphale said through subsiding laughter holding up his hands in transparency.
Crowley growled at his snake skin boots that somehow, physics be damned, hadn’t stopped the water from sloshing up his boot and right inside. “Stupid nature.”
There was still laughter though it wasn’t coming from Aziraphale.
Crowley irritably looked around and found the two girls coming towards them though that plan was being sabotaged by the fit of laughter shaking Rose who was one more funny thing away from rolling on the ground. One more, because Jeff stumbling over his own feet had already been hilarious.
Aziraphale sighed, the dizzying feeling of laughter leaving him, and watched the girls with bemusement. Crowley just stood next to him with crossed arms quietly mumbling “I can feel my toes touching.” Because he might be in a bit of a mood but he wasn’t about to ruin these kids’ fun.
Beneath his arms his heart was still beating fast. Unlike his mind it wasn’t so easily distracted and still processed what the angel had said before Jeff had interrupted them. Any attempt from his mind to grasp it now was squashed by the two giggling friends demanding their attention.
The girls dragged them back to where they had sat before and as they walked Crowley’s feet suddenly found themselves miraculously dry. When Crowley gave a confused look, first at his boots and then at his companion, there was no reaction except for a little smug smile moving around the angel’s lips and Crowley found himself helplessly charmed.
Rose and her friend showed them their “trick” which involved blowing into the embers of their extinguished campfire as hard as they could. They seemed impossibly pleased with themselves and then continued to, as kids had a talent for, Crowley noted, happily take up their time.
They were steered across the beach, questioned to no end and Crowley was starting to grow suspicious as to why they hadn’t encountered any parents yet. He didn’t need to spend much thought on that though before the answer delivered itself.
The odd pair of four were by the tables because together with the girls Aziraphale seemed to have found a new joy in judging the food people had brought.
Rose, her friend and Aziraphale were discussing which cake was their favourite when suddenly one of the girls ducked behind the table pulling the other with her.
They were whispering agitatedly and Crowley stepped next to a confused Aziraphale so he could hear.
"She’s right there!" "But we can talk to her! Your mom might let us stay!"
Aha. Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged knowing looks and it didn’t take long for Crowley to spot a frowning woman, clearly looking for someone, coming towards them from behind.
He could feel his knee behind grabbed and irritability looked down at Rose who was now actively using him as a sight shield from underneath the table.
"You know, I don’t think that’s gonna work." He informed her but only got a whispered "Don’t look down!" in response.
Crowley leaned conspiratorially towards Aziraphale. "I think we are being used here."
"Seems so." The angel said, stealing a glance downwards. "I do not want to get in a quarrel with anyone’s mother."
"Hello, by any chance have you two gents seen two little girls?" asked a bright voice.
They turned around and were faced with a woman that had an undeniable resemblance with the girl currently clutching Crowley’s ankles.
He gave her a big smile. "Very sorry to be of no help but I don’t think we have. What have the little buggers done?"
Beside him Aziraphale nervously moved from one leg to the other.
"Nothing I know of yet. Just can’t find them." She sighed.
Crowley shortly wondered if Aziraphale and him standing so close together was at all suspicious but then, with a little excited thud of his stupid heart, remembered that couples stood like that all the time. Which was what they were presenting themselves as.
"The moment I look for them,” she opened her hands in front of her “poof, gone. They have to get up early for school tomorrow." She explained conscientiously to which Crowley had the natural reaction of huffing and going "Well, that’s hardly an appealing argument against running round a big fire and latching onto random strangers."
He found Aziraphale giving him a rather stern look so he added "But of course, school’s important and all that."
The woman’s wary gaze moved from Crowley to the small space between the angel and him, a disbelieving frown starting to form on her forehead.
Crowley’s spontaneous-problem-solving-system kicked in and before anything could be given away Crowley sneaked an arm around Aziraphale’s waist, closing the gap in pulling him snug to his side.
It was only one astonishing blink of Aziraphale’s eyes before, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, the angel put his arm around Crowley as well.
"We’ll let you know if we see them."
The woman couldn’t have looked more doubtful at Crowley’s statement so Aziraphale, partly because the kids were relying on them and because he realised he hadn’t said a word in this conversation and felt ridiculously incriminated by it, added "Yes, two little girls, if we see them, we’ll tell them to go find their mother and...” Crowley looked at Aziraphale with an easy smirk but internally very much stumbled when he realized how close the angels face was. “School is important!"
That made the woman crack an amused smile "I hardly think that’ll get them to me but thank you."
She left and when she was at a safe distance two grinning girls tumbled out from under the table.
"We did it!" They cheered, not paying any mind to Crowley and Aziraphale.
"I think we deserve a bit of credit as well." Noted the angel which didn’t get much of a reaction from Rose but her friend leapt forward, wrapping her arms around Aziraphale’s waist and with the sincerest of smiles said "Thank you."
Rose cheekily stuck her tongue out at them and then the two were off.
Crowley still had his arm lazily snuck around Aziraphale and was starting to grow terribly comfortable with the angels around him.
For a moment they peacefully watched the kids dash away and disappear behind other people.
"ROSE TERESA PULCIFER!" yelled a voice, now not so bright anymore.
"Uh oh." Uttered Crowley.
"It seems our efforts were in vain." Aziraphale stated plainly and Crowley leaned his head to the side.
"Eh, maybe, but they were fun."
He looked at the angel and there was a small smile curling around his mouth.
"I suppose... maybe a little."
Crowley smiled too. Stupidly so.
Until someone told them "Oi, you’re blocking the sodas!"
Him and Aziraphale had separated.
The angel was on a mission to find Mrs. Cornfall, who supposedly was the one that had made the filled pieces of chocolate Aziraphale had been absolutely delighted by, so on his own, Crowley strolled along the tables.
Which he then immediately regretted when he was practically forced to (like every person Anathema met by the tables) try and give his opinion on the dish Anathema had made.
She was particularly keen to know his opinion since “I know, you wouldn’t bother to lie.”
It actually turned out to be pretty good and Crowley found himself somewhat intrigued by what Anathema told him about her cooking journey so far.
Not long after she’d left, people started cheering.
Trying to detect the source of their joy Crowley looked around and eventually his eyes fell on the slim figure that was walking towards them.
Some people waved at the figure that, in the dark, wasn’t more than a growing black silhouette but Crowley realised that it must be Newt.
He didn’t really understand the big reaction but then again while he had restrained himself from drinking alcohol, not wanting to go through the process of sobering up, he still had to drive them back to London after all, the others didn’t hold back so by now a good part of their small crowd was at least tipsy.
Aside from that, the mood was just really good. Once the sky had fully darkened, the people switched from eating to drinking, talking more loudly and some even started dancing to soft music that came from a big bluetooth speaker.
Crowley felt a bit out of place in that cheery atmosphere but every smile the good food or the happy people drew from Aziraphale made him feel more at ease in it.
Aziraphale’s offer hadn’t been spoken of again but now that his mind finally had had time to catch up, he hadn’t been able to get rid of the thought of living with Aziraphale.
Was that really something the angel wanted? Could he want to see him every day? To always have him around?
The phrase was on repeat inside of his head. You could come with me .
Crowley had been around long enough to know that home wasn’t a place.
He had once thought heaven to be his home... then he didn’t anymore.
Hell had never occurred to him as a place to call home.
Earth was where he chose to be, yet its places kept changing, never the same for more than half a century.
But he knew that in the presence of a specific Angel, any place, no matter how fleeting or familiar, could feel like home.
And to have an actual physical space they could call theirs ?
They had spent centuries hiding so just the possibility of it seemed surreal but there was nothing trying to keep them apart anymore. Nothing external anyway.
The sound of chatter changed around him, from casual conversations to excited anticipation accompanied by the rustling of people moving around to find a good spot around the woodpile. Which was something Cowley realised they should probably do as well.
He was about to look for Aziraphale but found the angel already heading towards him.
They claimed two of the few spots left on a bench that was facing the soon-to-be fire while Aziraphale disappointedly told him he didn’t have any luck in finding Mrs. Cronfall (but talked to other interesting people).
Once everyone had settled down, an anticipating silence fell over their crowd.
It was colder now and Crowley and Aziraphale sat close together, their shoulders almost touching.
A bit to the left Crowley saw Matilda and her husband sitting on a bench. They had a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and were smiling at Anathema and Newt who were approaching the woodpile, stopping in front of a rope that was lying on the ground.
Newt squatted down to it but lost his balance and would have landed face first in the sand if it wasn’t for Anathema who caught him. There was laughter coming from around them and Anathema was laughing too as she helped him back up. “Let me do it.”
Newt nodded gratefully and gave the matches to Anathema who dramatically bowed down, lit the match and let it fall onto the rope. It instantly caught fire and the flame quickly travelled down the rope into the centre of the woodpile. There was an explosive flame followed by ohhhs and woahhhs as people marvelled at the growing fire. Crowley did too.
There is a pureness in the force of nature which makes it impossible not to admire it.
“Can’t lie, that was pretty cool.” Crowley said.
When he turned his head, he found Aziraphale already looking at him with a smile on his face. “Your hair looks like flames in this light.” The angel muttered, lost in observation.
Crowley shrugged dumbly. “I could use a haircut.”
They rarely commented on each other’s appearances so this threw him a little off centre, which he completely lost sight of when the angel stopped inspecting his hair to mindlessly reach out and gently push back a strand that had fallen onto his forehead.
Aziraphale’s hand barely grazed his face but for a moment Crowley forgot to breathe. Literally.
It was when the angels’ eyes left his hair and caught his eyes instead that he quickly pulled back, away from the breach of their familiar physical boundaries. “Sorry.” He said to the air, sheepishly.
Crowley wanted to tell him not to be but his body didn’t react, much more reluctant to the uncertainty of what would follow if he did. This wasn’t like the little ordeal where they’d stood arm in arm, there was no one watching them now and the space between them, occupied only by their own awarenesses, felt charged and fragile.
He was glad when the angel turned his head to him again and continued like nothing had happened.
"You could just miracle yourself a new hair style like you usually do."
"Well yes, but... didn’t have that moment yet." A cool breeze blew around them and Crowley shivered which caused a small frown to appear on the angel’s face. "You know, a moment of inspirational hair-changing magic."
"I’m afraid I don’t. Are you cold?"
It took him a moment to register the question. "I’m fine."
But as soon as he said it, he became very aware of the cold of night, the fire doing little to warm them from this distance, sending all of its warmth to the sky instead.
"Oh, but they have blankets over there! Hold on, I’ll get one."
Before he could say anything the angel was up and away, returning a moment later with a fluffy blanket successfully held up in his hands.
Crowley started protesting but stopped when he felt the shell of warmth settle around his shoulders and instead scowled at Aziraphale while his heart was beating happily in his chest.
"That better?"
"Yes." He said reluctantly and the angel beamed.
"I could get you another one, I think they have enou-
"Ahhwkajms." Said Crowley while hiding his face against Aziraphale’s shoulder, feeling additional warmth in his cheeks. "Stop be-mothering me."
"But you don’t have a mother. Someone has to do the job." He heard Aziraphale say above him in the most matter-of-fact voice and Crowley burst out laughing.
He stopped hiding and looked at the angel through laughter wet eyes, at his white eyebrows raised in confusion and his mouth tilted up in amusement and Crowley loved it. All of it.
He sniffed "Well, thanks.”
Something had eased between them and Crowley felt lighter than before. “You warm enough?”
“I think so.” Aziraphale scrunched up his nose “It’s just the wind that’s a bit cold.”
Crowley didn’t need to hear more, he lifted one side of the blanket above the angel who took the invitation, scooching closer and gripping the blanket where Crowley held it over his shoulder.
He felt Aziraphale’s shoulder against his.
The sky had cleared a bit above them allowing patches of stars to peek through and the fire was so tall that when Crowley’s eyes followed the sparks flying up, they reached the sky and almost looked like stars.
Soft music started playing and Matilda and Noah got up to dance and softly swing to a song that was probably all too familiar to them.
Everyone else watched huddled up to their lovers or friends or enjoying the moment by themselves.
Crowley couldn’t believe that he was sitting here with those people and his angel at his side. After spending a day surrounded by and interacting with people, he didn’t really know doing such human things… he didn’t know he could feel this human and he would have never thought that he could enjoy it this much.
Aziraphale’s eyes followed the swaying couple, a soft smile on his lips.
“Do you think we could have something like that?”
There were so many ways to interpret Aziraphale’s question that he blanked and took the most literal approach.
"Well, we’d have to get married first."
Aziraphale looked at him like he didn’t think he’d asked the question aloud. "Oh no I mean…" he didn’t look quite sure what he meant, "well, angels and demons in general."
Right… Crowley didn’t know where this was coming from but he knew he’d just voiced an idea that lay in the direction of other ideas he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about so he quickly continued "Well, I don’t think many could... they’d have to be at least a bit human. Not to love I suppose but to have a relationship in that sense... And I mean the circumstances of heaven and hell aren’t exactly ideal to find and keep up a partnership."
He took a breath to stop himself from spitting out random thoughts.
"Or you know love can conquer all if you wanna believe in that." Crowley added.
Aziraphale looked at him with an almost offended certainty in his eyes. "It can."
It was a funny thing to believe, Crowley thought. A nice thing but one that left a burnt and bitter taste in his mouth. If love could conquer all, why had it been so hard for them?
The history of their relationship was filled with obstacles so high their shadows were still looming over them now.
But you see deep down Crowley was an optimist. He was. And they were here now. They had made it this far. He just had no idea where they were going from here or what exactly here even was.
"Can it?" Crowley asked.
Aziraphale’s attentive eyes searched his face, probably wondering just as much what they were actually talking about. The ambiguousness of it hung heavy between them.
"I suppose the phrasing is a bit romanticised. Of course, love doesn’t conquer anything for you but it can be worth conquering anything for, maybe that’s a more logical way of saying it. It can give the strength and motivation to concur all. And if you choose it to be that greatest motivation for you, you’ll be rewarded. Because in the end that’s what you’ll have left. Love. Because-"
"It’s good." Crowley finished, a simpler version of the reason Aziraphale would have given but no less true.
He knew that this wasn’t just someone philosophising over the meaning of a phrase. This was someone who’d lived by its sometimes fragile truth, had clung to it when all seemed unsure.
Aziraphale believed in God and good but in the end what those things encompassed to him was love. He believed in love. He was its strongest soldier.
Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s slightly astonished expression.
It was a quiet and genuine smile, coming from a place deep within and after a moment of recovering from the surprise of being known, Aziraphale returned it.
Crowley could lose himself in the angel's soft crinkled eyes but it all felt too honest all of a sudden.
Being in a state of physical and emotional intimacy like this he could feel the ice between his buried wants and the surface of reality melting. Dangerously close to the clear width of a window.
Crowley looked away to let his gaze wander, bringing himself back to their neutral surroundings.
On the opposite end of the circle of people, shortly before where they disappeared from his sight behind the fire, he spotted Rose sitting on the lap of her mother, leaning tiredly against her, exhausted from a day spent successfully. The girls must have convinced her to let them stay.
"Crowley?"
"Hm?"
He returned his gaze to Aziraphale only when nothing followed but the angel wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, his gaze laid unfocused on the fire, his brows furrowed in a thoughtful frown. Crowley left him to his thoughts.
Aziraphale was brought back from wherever his mind had taken him. The music had apparently stopped and someone must have said something because people started to move.
His gaze fell on Crowley who looked like he knew what was happening and didn’t like it.
“Nooo, they’re gonna make us dance! A Waltz or something.”
Aziraphale instantly brightened at that, it had been way too long since he’d last partaken in a proper dance and suddenly it was clear to him that the people standing up and moving from their places, were looking for dance partners.
When their eyes met, Crowley wore a mild expression of defeat, not even trying to argue.
“Would you give me the honour?” asked Aziraphale who was now standing and holding out one arm. “Mhm, whatever.” Crowley growled but a small smile betrayed his act.
Aziraphale was beaming and if he wasn’t careful, he might actually start to glow.
Crowley took his arm and together they walked, like the others, closer to the fire and onto the beach not occupied by benches or tables, leaving their fluffy blanket behind.
“Angel, I really don’t think I’m good at this kind of dancing.” Around them other couples started positioning themselves for the dance.
“That’s alright dear, I’ll lead. You just need to follow.”
They stopped and Crowley steadied himself by trying to obtain a somewhat solid posture.
Blue eyes met black shades and maybe Aziraphale was imagining it but he was sure he could see Crowley’s eyes behind them.
There was someone shouting, "I hope everyone has found a dance partner. Don’t be shy to shout if you’re still looking for one, nobody who doesn’t want to is dancing on their own tonight... Everyone good?… Lovely!"
Crowley shuffled his feet in the sand. "I mean, will it even work? Can you waltz on sand?"
"Well, we’ll certainly find out. The right hand goes on the shoulder and the left in the air next to us. May I?" His right hand was hovering in the air. "Yeah, sure, course."
Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s shoulder and took the demon’s right hand.
Crowley thought he knew the basic step but was still glad when Aziraphale explained it to him.
A gentle tune started playing and Aziraphale gave him an encouraging smile before he started moving. Crowley was staring at their feet, trying his best not to miss a step.
It worked for a little while but as soon as he looked at Aziraphale he somehow managed to stumble over his own feet.
Before he could fall onto his ass or worse, into another dancing couple, Aziraphale caught him by the waist. "Oh dear."
Crowley let the strong arm around his middle steady him and huffed out a breath. "Sorry."
"Oh, it’s alright, I don’t mind." The angel thought for a moment while the other people around them kept dancing, some looking like professionals, some stumbling their way through it.
"Maybe it would be easier if we were closer? You’d have to make smaller steps, less room to misstep."
Crowley doubted that being closer to Aziraphale would do any good for his dancing skills, let alone his thinking skills but he nodded anyway.
"Mhm, okay. So, your right hand goes on my back and your left goes on top of my shoulder."
Crowley tried to follow the instructions as best as he could and a few moments later they were almost standing chest to chest. Slowly they started to move again.
To Crowley’s surprise it actually was easier this way and they soon found a good rhythm. Being so close he could instantly tell which way Aziraphale was moving next and he didn’t even have to think anymore, it was as if they were moving as one.
Crowley felt slightly dizzy and he couldn’t tell whether it was because of the turning or the fact that he could literally feel Aziraphale’s breathing. The angel was smiling softly at him.
It was out before he could stop himself.
"This what you did to seduce unexpecting humans in the nineteenth century?"
To his surprise, Aziraphale barely hesitated before answering.
"Oh, certainly not. This kind of dancing used to be highly improper. I do use it to seduce unexpecting demons though. One demon that is."
Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled and any clever reply was stunned into quiet amazement alongside Crowley.
Everything around them had become a blur; the only clear thing left in the world were orange eyes fixed on blue ones.
The repetitive movement was hypnotising and Crowley let his head slowly fall slightly forward.
Aziraphale did the same and maybe he wanted to lay his head on the demon’s shoulder or do something else, but in the end their foreheads met in the middle. Crowley let his eyes fall shut, just feeling the warmth of their bodies pressed together accompanied by the warmth blossoming inside of his chest.
The gentle and rarely listened to voice inside of his head reassuring him that this is okay, this is allowed, you can enjoy it.
If Crowley would have died right then and there, he wouldn’t have been scared because he never felt more at peace.
Aziraphale had closed his eyes as well but had half a mind to keep leading their dance.
When the music stopped and the two did as well, they didn’t immediately move away.
Aziraphale was looking at him, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened. His gaze wandered over Crowley’s face, from his eyes to his lips. Crowley was buzzing with a feeling he couldn’t quite name, he wanted to do so many things but instead he just stood there.
Aziraphale tore his eyes back to Crowley’s, closed his mouth and took a step back.
He smiled. "That was lovely."
Crowley cleared his throat and willed himself to look away from the angel. "Yeah."
His hands, having left Aziraphale, didn’t know what to do, as if having lost their purpose.
"Thanks for, uh, teaching me."
"Oh, it was my pleasure."
They stood at a safe distance and there was a heaviness threatening to join them but then suddenly the music was back.
This time it wasn’t a classical song but rather sounded like upbeat country pop. Aziraphale was the face of utter confusion and Crowley felt slightly startled by the sudden change as well but then a wave of excitement hit him.
He grinned "Now that’s more like it!" Not a second later he was moving to the upbeat 80s music, doing dance moves that really looked quite goofy but he pulled it off somehow.
Aziraphale watched fondly.
"No way, look Matilda and Noah are doing a choreography or something!"
And indeed, they were. Aziraphale gaped at how quickly they were doing it.
"I think it’s called line dance."
"Something like that. It looks quite easy, look people are joining in." Crowley focused on the steps and just one repeat later he was dancing along with them, getting the feel of it way quicker than with the waltz.
Aziraphale couldn’t seem to get it right but tried not to be embarrassed and instead just gave his attention to the redhead in front of him who for some reason had decided that he was totally into line dancing.
Crowley put a hand on his belt and did a lasso movement which made Aziraphale chuckle.
There was a rhythmic build up in the song and Crowley whirled his imaginary lasso again, letting go when it came round to the front.
Aziraphale knew it landed around him.
Crowley smirked, pulling the invisible lasso in. The angel rolled his eyes but went along, moving closer with every pull until he was standing right in front of the demon smiling back at him.
When the chorus came on again, they both danced their own little dances while looking at each other, not caring what anybody else was doing. Not around them or in the world or the spaces above and below.
Aziraphale felt his heart beating in his chest.
It was ridiculous. And it was silly. And it was the most fun he’d had in ages.
When the song was over everyone cheered and clapped. Matilda and Noah thanked everyone who had come to celebrate with them.
A couple people lingered by the fire or sat back down but a good amount started to leave.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other questioningly and agreed nonverbally that it was time to go.
There was the echo of a buzzing running through Crowley, though it was more of a pleasant hum and he swayed, more than usual anyway, as he walked despite not having drunk anything.
Anathema saw them approaching and smiled. She looked a lot less tense than at the beginning of the evening. "Hey, you’re gonna leave?"
"We will. But this evening was very nice, thank you for inviting us."
"Oh, of course. I still don’t really know who or what you guys are but you seem like good beings. Beautiful aura. And Newt said the kids really liked you." Anathema smiled again trying to hide the fact that she was tipsy despite having preached she wouldn’t drink.
"Oh, er, thank you?"
Crowley gave her a suave salute goodbye and the two stood for a moment as she walked over to Newt sliding against him with an exhaustion she didn't show to anyone else. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and Crowley became aware of himself watching so he left them to their unseen world.
“Once I’m home I. Need. Alcohol.” He looked next to him at Aziraphale who pondered this “I wouldn’t say no to a glass either.” The angel smiled and held out his hand. “Let’s go?”
His hand slid easily into the angels, more by reflex of body than a decision of his mind which was hung up on the implication that they might spend more time together and not go their separate ways right away.
Before they were off, Jeff popped up one last time to say goodbye. Aziraphale asked if they should help clear away stuff, an offer purely made out of politeness, Crowley could tell, but the man assured them they didn’t need to, they still had a long drive home after all.
Jeff sent a big smile their way as they left, apparently having forgotten about Crowley’s earlier rudeness and a half-asleep rose waved at them as they walked past before everything got quieter.
The empty beach greeted them with a friendly kind of darkness. There was an easy air to it and their hands swung lightly between them.
A few raindrops started falling and Aziraphale looked up in amazement.
"Perfect timing." murmured Crowley.
Their comfortable silence was replaced by Aziraphale’s pondering "There’s just something about homemade food..."
"Hm?"
"I mean I do love fine foods in restaurants but homemade food is special somehow."
"Maybe it’s because they aren’t scared their food will get sent back because someone thinks the meat was roasted for one second too long."
"I never do that!"
"No, I know you don’t."
"I suppose there is a lot of pressure on the chefs and cooks in more expensive restaurants."
Crowley started singing, "Pressure! pushing down on the chefs, pushing down on cooks- Anyway, I think I heard someone say the lady who made the chocolates is an actual chocolatier."
"Really? I wish I could have met her."
"Like you haven’t met a hundred chocolatiers already."
Aziraphale pouted. "Everyone’s special in their own way."
In the dark, they almost didn’t find the exit leading to the carpark.
When the Bentley came into view, Crowley felt an odd twinge of reluctance that caused him to slow down a little but just a few seconds later, Aziraphale already let go of his hand. They entered the car, Crowley letting himself fall into the driver’s seat.
He breathed in the familiar smell of old leather and turned to Aziraphale, the idea of a sentence forming on his tongue but the angel was already looking at him expectantly. “Shall we start?”
"Right, yeah. Back to the bookshop."
The Bentleys headlights were the only lights around as they drove through the countryside and occasional suburbs on their way back to London. Except for the rain that had set in again it was quiet.
Aziraphale was usually the one keeping up conversation after such an event but he’d gone quite a while ago, leaving a weirdly tense silence between them.
"Music?" Crowley asked because the silence was starting to make him nervous.
Aziraphale just shrugged. "If you want to."
The demon’s eyes wandered to the place where he kept his music but then decided against it, not really feeling like listening to anything.
Had he done something wrong? His memories of the day were starting to feel fuzzy as he went through them, trying to find an explanation.
The first thing that stood out was Aziraphale saying they could pretend to be a couple because that’s what Anathema thought they were. He had agreed.
Though in the end they hadn’t really acted upon this had they? Only in some instances, they had been closer than usual. But they had been closer in general. Had that been part of the act?
There was the creeping awareness that to Crowley none of it had felt appropriately fake or meaningless but he pushed it away. (Though he couldn’t stop the thought of, if any of it had meant anything, shouldn’t something happen or at least be different?)
Maybe Aziraphale was feeling regret about the whole thing. Or maybe Crowley was overthinking and he was just tired.
The angel in question was looking out the side window into nothing but blackness, occasionally looking over at Crowley or checking what speed they were going at.
They had both taken off their jackets because it was more comfortable and the Bentley had been warm enough to do so the moment the thought had crossed Crowley’s mind.
Aziraphale was fiddling with the fabric of his sweater, a nervous habit he’d developed and once Crowley noticed, he was sure something was wrong.
The longer his questions went unanswered and unasked the more unease spread through Crowley.
An incoming call disrupted the silence.
Aziraphale looked up and Crowley frowned, recognizing the ringing.
He looked over at his calling system but the number shown on the screen wasn’t familiar to the demon. Him and Aziraphale shared a suspicious look. "Maybe it’s Anathema?"
“Accept call.” Crowley said in a tone any other person would use to say ‘decline call’.
"Sorry to disturb you Mr. Crowley but-
He groaned ”Are you serious? It’s like 10pm, I said I’d pay the bills on Sunday, didn’t I? Isn’t that early enough?"
"Sir, you’re 2 months behin-
"Yes and who cares?!" Crowley did not have the nerve for this right now.
"Well- Whatever, that’s not why I called. You’re not home, are you?"
"That’s none of your business." The man had heard this sentence from Crowley at least 10 times in the past two months.
"Right, since you’re still alive and well I’m assuming no."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"There is a gas leak in your building so you’ll have to stay somewhere else for the night."
"Wha- Gas? That’s ridiculous! I PAY for that flat!” The man uttered a doubtful "Do you now?",
“And whoever that money goes to is in charge of making sure everyth-"
"Okay I’m sorry I can’t do anything about it. Do you want me to look for hotel rooms in your area?" (Crowley lived in the kind of fancy flat that had people who asked and did such things for you) He didn’t really consider the offer before answering.
"No."
"No?"
"No!"
"Alright, fine. I’m very much looking forward to calling you on monday, to remind you that yes, you have to actually pa-"
Crowley leaned forward to manually press end call and then fell back against his seat with a thump.
"You’d think with how often Hell forgot about checking in or making sure temptations were actually made they would also forget they’re still paying my rent but no! THAT they notice."
He felt a wave of emotions was about to crash down on him and was trying his best to keep them at bay but this new problem really wasn’t helping.
"Well, I don’t think Heaven and Hell take our existence so lightly anymore. Can’t you just perform a little miracle?"
"Oh, I have. If miracles have any effect on humans that man is gonna know first. A gas leak! In my flat! Can you believe it?"
"I do think you’re overreacting a bit. And it’s not like the gas can actually harm you."
Crowley’s voice was steadily rising in volume. "Oh, I’m overreacting, am I? I just spent the whole day socialising with humans without consuming any alcohol along the way, I have to drive, the- the bloody thunderstorms, and now this?!"
He didn’t mention one thing. The thing that was affecting him the most.
Aziraphale’s sudden closeness, even if it came from a place of pretense, after years of keeping him at a safe distance and his just as sudden silence. The things that laid unspoken between them.
He didn’t know what was going on inside of the angel and he could just ask. He wanted to ask.
What’s wrong? What was today? What are we? and Can I hold your hand again?
But he was scared. He was scared of the answers.
"Crowley, it’s fine-"
"It's not fine !" He snapped.
For a moment they were looking at each other before Aziraphale looked away, head held high, and Crowley stared out at the road.
They were both angry now. Outside thunder growled and Crowley was clenching the wheel.
The silence stretched out a while longer.
They could have sat there like that for the rest of the ride. It probably would have been easier.
But Crowley didn’t want that. He really really didn’t want that. So he took a breath and broke the silence.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell."
He looked over at Aziraphale who was looking at his hands. All anger was gone again and the energy shifted into something sadder, something more honest.
Aziraphale’s voice was a little quiet when he asked "Why do you dislike thunderstorms?"
Crowley blinked in confusion. "What?"
The angel just looked at him, his brows knit together in a worried frown.
And then he remembered the weird look Aziraphale had given him when he had stated his opinion on thunderstorms back at the beach.
"You- you’ve been worried about that ?"
"I-" he trailed off looking away and then back at Crowley who was considering just letting the car drive itself so he could properly look at Aziraphale.
"I guess I’ve just been wondering."
Crowley shrugged but it looked defensive. "I don’t know, I just don’t like them. Why- what did you think?"
He knew he couldn’t get away with just that but he was looking for his words. And courage.
"It’s probably silly and I’m just being dramatic but I thought it’s because maybe it reminds you of the day we met." Aziraphale said this all very quickly.
He blinked. "But... that was 6000 years ago."
"Well... I don’t know, it was quite memorable. At least to me"
Crowley closed his eyes for a moment. He had known this was coming. He knew he had to be honest eventually.
"I mean, you’re not entirely wrong."
Aziraphale shook his head. "But that’s not- meeting you was- no not even the best thing that happened to me... I really don't know what my life would be without you."
The meaningfulness of those words made Crowley’s heart ache.
"Angel... you’re not wrong because they do remind me of the day we met. Of you."
Crowley shrugged again but this time it was a gesture of surrender.
"They make me miss you."
There was the kind of silence that existed before hearts got broken, or mended, and Crowley couldn’t look at Aziraphale.
"But I’m always around? My dear, you’re always more than welcome at the bookshop, you know that and you can always just call, I’d instantly come to you."
Crowley sighed. Why was this so hard to talk about? "I just- I just don’t want to ask too much of you."
There was a pause. Then, "I do want you to ask though. Even if it might be too much. If it is then I’ll tell you. It’s alright."
Aziraphale’s expression was determined and Crowley wanted to believe him. Still his first instinct told him:
It wasn’t alright last time. He almost said it. But that was long ago now.
Crowley ran a hand across his face and let out a frustrated noise. "Why do we have to deal with these emotions? We’re not even human."
"They are complicated, aren’t they? Would you rather not feel them?"
If he had asked this question a hundred years ago Crowley would’ve taken longer to reply but with where he was now it came fairly quick.
"No. Course not. S’ just hard sometimes."
"I know." Aziraphale understood. Better than anybody probably. "I suppose that’s just part of it."
"Suppose it is."
The angel gave him a wistful smile.
He had things to ask Aziraphale and now he knew they were welcome to be asked. He was still scared though and for the moment he decided to just sit with it.
He couldn’t quite believe the thunderstorm thing was all the reason for Aziraphale’s behaviour either…
But the heaviness of something old and angry from being ignored was slowly, finally, starting to untangle itself between them.
"So, what will you do now? About your flat."
"I don’t know. Might just sleep in the car." He imagined it. Dropping Aziraphale off at the bookshop, watching him leave and just... staying exactly where he was. Though that might be weird so he’d probably park somewhere else. Not in front of the bookshop.
"In here?" Aziraphale looked around the car.
"Yup."
"But this is your car." He sounded almost offended.
"Lots of people sleep in their car."
"Oh, out of the question, you will stay at my place."
Crowley gaped at him.
"If you like, I mean." Aziraphale added a little nervously, adjusting the way he was sitting and not looking at Crowley.
It took him a moment to articulate his answer. "Okay."
"Okay?" Despite the confidence with which he had announced it, the angel almost sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
"Yeah. If you’re sure..."
Aziraphale frowned. And then he smiled. He was sure.
When they parked in front of the bookshop it was pouring. Water was flowing down the car windows and there was occasional lightning followed by thunder.
"Oh dear, I’m afraid we’re gonna get wet."
Crowley turned off the engine. "We’re gonna be fine, it’s only like 5 steps." He grabbed their jackets from the backseat, handed Aziraphale his and then as if the rain didn’t exist stepped outside the Bentley.
The demon froze, realising that he’d be soaked in seconds and then just strolled over to Aziraphale’s side of the car and opened the door for him.
The angel looked up at Crowley and said "That is very kind of you but just so you know I am going to run to that door." And then he swung his jacket over his head and strode to the bookshop, Crowley following close behind.
When the door had shut behind them Aziraphale looked down on himself. He had managed to stay fairly dry. He looked up and clasped a hand over his mouth when he saw a completely wet Crowley dripping onto his carpet.
The demon frowned. "I might have underestimated the situation a bit- Are you laughing at me?!"
Aziraphale dropped his hand pretending to be shocked. "No! No, I would never. Now, I’ll change and get you some dry clothes." He turned on the light in the bookshop on his way to find clothes.
"You’re not that wet." Crowley said, puzzled.
"No but I smell terribly of smoke."
The demon sniffed at his own clothes as Aziraphale turned to search in a different room calling "Don’t drip on any of the books!" in Crowley's direction.
He quickly returned with two towels, the smallest of his sweaters and pyjama pants. Aziraphale himself had kept on the tartan trousers and changed into a simple light shirt with his blazer cardigan on top.
"This is the best I could find.” He gave the sweater a sorry look. “Bit dusty. I don’t recall when I last wore this."
The angel gestured for Crowley to lift his feet so he could put one towel beneath him and then handed him the other one.
He hesitated for a moment.
"Do you, er, need help with anything?"
Crowley glanced down at his trousers but shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine."
Aziraphale went to get wine.
When he came back Crowley was just pulling the sweater on and an invisible force stopped the angel in his tracks, inviting him to watch an unperceived Crowley. The sweater was still too big and so were the pyjama pants but the demon didn’t look bothered.
The subsiding red colour of Crowley’s face suggested that he had been bothered by something though but the pile of black leather that was Crowley’s pants and now at the other side of the room, quickly solved this mystery. The angel could only imagine they’d gotten this far via an angry toss after they’d been trickily peeled from Crowley’s legs. As if on cue Crowley walked over to them, picking the fabric up and folding it neatly before dropping it next to the sweater he had taken off.
Seeing Crowley in his clothes, no matter how few times Aziraphale had actually worn them, made him feel all warm inside and somewhere in the back of his mind he registered there was a strong urge to hug him.
He should probably move now.
The demon adjusted Aziraphale’s sweater a little and then brought the sleeve up to his face to, for a short moment, bury his nose in it, eyes falling shut for a gentle secret second.
It was fair to say that Aziraphale was rendered useless by fondness as he watched the demon flop back down onto the couch and wiggle a couple times to make himself comfortable.
He pushed back his still damp hair and it was then that Crowley looked up, seeing Aziraphale with the wine bottle and wine glasses standing in the doorway.
"How long have you been standing there?"
That seemed to unfreeze the angel because he started walking again like he never even stopped. "Oh, um, I just came in."
He put the bottle and glasses on a little table, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.
"S comfy." Crowley said gesturing at the clothes then he leaned forward to see what wine Aziraphale had chosen.
The angel smiled and busied himself by turning on a few more lights. Candles? Yes. But… no, better not.
Aziraphale patted down his cardigan and then sat down opposite of Crowley.
The demon was just about to pour them a glass of wine when his eyes caught on something in the corner of the room. With four long strides he was at his subject of attention.
First Aziraphale couldn’t see what the demon had crouched down to but then Crowley moved, revealing a little plant. Crowley’s plant. It was the one that had been sentenced (by Crowley) to suffer for spots it did not carry.
It had sat next to what the demon called 'The Executor' when Aziraphale came to his place that night after almost-Armageddon, and despite not knowing what the next day would bring, he had insisted on saving and taking it under his wing instead.
(He still wasn’t entirely sure if the demon would’ve ever gone through with the actual shredding but safe was safe.)
Fact was: the plant had looked better next to possible gruesome death than it did now. Its once rich, dark green leaves were now wilted and brown around the edges.
"Angel, you can’t save one of my plants from the Executor and then let it die in your bookshop." Crowley patted the soil and looked very displeased.
Aziraphale felt a bit guilty when he realised how completely he’d forgotten the little fellow. "Oh. You’re absolutely right."
He filled their glasses with wine while searching for a term he’d once heard. Ah. Right.
"I don’t think I’m fit to be a plant-mom."
Crowley looked at him like he’d just said something horrible. "I’m not a plant-mom."
"Hm." He swirled his wine. "I think you are. A plant parent. As far as I understand, it means you care for and lov-
"Don’t you dare ever say something like that in front of my plants." There was a growl in his voice but Aziraphale just blinked innocently. Before he could say anything else, Crowley gathered the plant in his arms and was off to hold it under water.
Aziraphale had wondered before why Crowley didn’t live in a place that had a garden where he could grow and tend to as many plants as he wanted. He had also thought about the fact that a garden practically came hand in hand with a countryside cottage.
Aziraphale emptied his wine glass and refilled it before Crowley was back.
It had been quite a day. As soon as they had started their journey back home, Aziraphale had begun to regret his idea of pretending to be a couple. Not because of the things that happened because of it but the way they did.
At once he had realised the foolishness of inviting Crowley into an idea of pretence while hoping for it to lead somewhere real. The cowardice of it.
And only when he, surprisingly for the first time during this whole ordeal, fell into the pit of overthinking, worrying it had all meant nothing to Crowley did he see, standing out like lighting in a grey sky, the strangeness of one particular fact. Crowley’s dislike of thunderstorms.
Which had started a whole other spiral of thoughts that, to be fair, had been dismantled fairly quickly but now he couldn’t ignore the double moral of asking Crowley to be honest, to tell Aziraphale what he wanted while he himself wasn’t acting with honest intent.
But he still could. And he would. Aziraphale owed this to Crowley. And to himself.
Outside the wind blew through the streets and rain lashed against the shop window.
The angel sighed relaxing into his environment. He loved his bookshop, he really did. It had been a place of shelter and comfort for so many years but nowadays he had this want, this need to live somewhere that really felt like home. Not just to him but also to Crowley. That’s what he really wished for.
The demon flapped back down onto the couch and scrunched up his nose a little. "Gonna have to wipe its memory once it’s back with the others."
"Plants have memories?"
Crowley shrugged. "Mine do. Anyway, the boy..."
Aziraphale blinked at the sudden topic change before catching up.
"Adam? Well, he seemed like a normal teenager to me."
"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Good for him. Good for the whole world probably."
Crowley didn’t have much time to enjoy the comfort of the couch or even drink one single bottle of wine because after the demon had pushed his still damp hair out of his face for what felt like the hundredth time, Aziraphale leaned forward looking delighted by an idea he’d just gotten.
"I think I’ve just had a- what did you call it? A moment of magical hair-changing inspiration?”
Crowley, already having forgotten about his word invention, looked clueless into Aziraphale twinkling eyes.
“I could cut your hair.”
The demon looked a little bewildered. "What?"
"I could give you a haircut. I was a barber back in, oh I don’t even know when but they said I was one of their best. I bet if I could find the right equipment... well, that is if you want me to."
"Uhh, why not?" He sat up a little straighter. "Like right now?"
"Is now not a good time?"
"No no, I suppose now’s good."
Aziraphale excitedly clapped his hands onto his upper thighs before standing up.
"Oh, this is going to be fun. I’ll go look for my old barber tool set. The man who taught me the craft gave it to me as a gift when I stopped working in his shop. Lovely man. Right, maybe you can sit on the chair instead? Makes your hair more accessible for me."
"Yup." The demon said and went over to the chair.
"I’ll be right back."
Aziraphale, happy to have a practical task, roamed through shelves and cupboards until he found the neatly rolled up piece of leather which contained most tools needed for a broad variety of haircuts.
"Found it!" He called out before seconds later standing in complete darkness.
All the lights had died and Aziraphale froze for a moment, alarmed, but then he realised it must be a power cut caused by the storm. Leather roll in one hand, he used the other to blindly reach for a lighter he knew must be somewhere on the table next to him.
Once he felt it in his hand, he turned and headed back to the living room, confidently walking towards it despite not seeing anything. In his 100 years of owning the bookshop he’d rarely ever experienced anything like this. He shook his head.
Suddenly something hit his shoulder.
"Bloody hell!" Aziraphale exclaimed at the same time as Crowley yelled "Holy shit!"
Aziraphale held the lighter in front of him like it was his flaming sword. In the light the little flame gave he could make out Crowley, whose expression went from startled to confused when he looked at the lighter which was right in front of his face.
"Er." Aziraphale said and lowered the lighter a little.
Crowley raised his eyebrows and then just burst into laughter, toppling over while Aziraphale stared at him still looking a little shocked but smiling nonetheless.
"No way you just said that!" Crowley said a big grin on his face.
"Said what?"
"Bloody hell."
Aziraphale frowned. "I did not say that."
"Oh, you definitely did."
He seemed to remember but he also remembered something else. Triumphantly he pointed the hand he held his tool set in at Crowley.
"But you, my dear boy, said 'holy shit'."
Crowley feigned skepticism. "Nahh, I don’t think so."
"No no, I heard it with my own ears."
They were standing close now with the lighter flame between them casting their faces into dark orange light.
"I mean... wouldn’t be worse than fancying an angel, would it?" Crowley said this so casually the demon didn’t even realise until a few seconds later what he’d just said.
Aziraphale stared at Crowley with a blank expression. His thumb slipped off the top of the lighter and its flame died. They were enveloped by silence and darkness.
Out of reflex he brought back the flame but when he saw Crowley’s alarmed expression he decidedly let it go out again.
Aziraphale took a couple seconds to process what he’d just heard. Had it been a joke?
‘Fancy' wasn’t a word he’d ever thought anyone would use in relation to him. Especially not Crowley. It was silly somehow. But he figured he didn’t mind.
Once he realised that going over every definition he’d ever heard of the word 'fancy' wouldn’t help him figure out how Crowley actually felt about him, he turned the lighter back on to find... nothing. Crowley was gone.
He whirled around with the light in hand but didn’t see him anywhere.
For a moment he worried the demon had left completely but then he saw soft light coming from the living room.
He followed it back to where he had initially left Crowley and there he was. Sitting on the chair like he’d never left, surrounded by candles that were lit all around the room. It looked rather beautiful.
Crowley cleared his throat. "Uh, I think the power went out."
"Yes. Yes, I think it did."
He could tell Crowley was nervous but he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say so he just went along with it.
"I found my equipment." The leather roll was presented cheerfully.
"Good. Great. You think you can do it by candle light? S' a little dark."
He let out a breath and tried to let go of what had happened with it. For now at least.
Then he smiled. He really was excited to do this.
"Won’t be a problem."
It should have been a problem but it wasn’t. And if the candles were shining brighter than any candle normally would neither of them commented on it.
While taking in the state of Crowley’s hair Aziraphale’s eyes caught on the dark shades he was still wearing. "Can I take these off?"
Crowley made a questioning "Hm?” noise looking a little lost but then nodded.
The angel gently removed Crowley’s glasses and after putting them on a table his gaze found Crowley’s again but this time it was met with flaming orange eyes. Despite their demonic nature Aziraphale thought he’d always loved them.
With the soft light shining from a candle somewhere on a shelf behind Aziraphale, the Angel's hair was glowing warmly. It reminded Crowley of the way he looked at the beach. Just now the admiration in his eyes wasn't directed at a pretty sunset but at him.
Aziraphale smiled softly, his hands fluttering in the air before he took a step closer and calmly reached forward to tuck a strand of hair back behind Crowley’s ear.
"So, just a little shorter again? Or would you like a different haircut?"
"Nuh, just shorter is fine but you can do whatever really."
On Aziraphale’s second inspection he ran his hand through Crowley’s hair and moved it around a little. Even though in recent years Crowley had made it look a little spikier, he found out it was just as soft as he’d always imagined it’d be when he used to marvel at Crowley’s long wavy hair. He wondered what it felt like when it was dry.
Aziraphale stepped back and smirked at the mess he’d made of Crowley’s hair. The demon huffed and turned slightly red which Aziraphale didn’t see because he was already busy rolling out the piece leather and choosing what tools he’d need first.
Aziraphale started with combing Crowley’s hair. At first the demon seemed a little stiff. He kept his eyes cast somewhere behind the angel’s head but after a little while the awkwardness ebbed away and Crowley relaxed, his eyes curiously tracking Aziraphale’s every move or even falling shut on occasion.
Aziraphale worked in a determined, concentrated way but still talked to Crowley while cleverly wielding scissors and razors and the demon could imagine what a good job he must have done in the time he worked as a barber.
Aziraphale told him about the man he learned most of his haircutting skills from, the fact that he’d learned most of his skills from his wife who sometimes visited the shop during closing hours to gossip about customers and hear about what haircuts they’d done that day.
At some point, Crowley had his eyes closed, Aziraphale withdrew his hands and stayed silent until Crowley looked at him and saw the angel looking at the side of his face.
"Do you want me to shave off your sideburns so this can move up again?" The angel tentatively touched the snake tattoo that was dangerously close to the edge of Crowley’s jaw. Crowley felt a shiver run through his body at the touch.
"It does move, doesn’t it?"
"Mm little attention seeker that one. Always needs to be seen."
There was so little space between them that they instinctively talked quieter.
"Reminds me of someone I know."
A grin spread across Crowley’s face. "Bastard."
Aziraphale smiled sweetly. "Off?"
"Sure."
It felt like they had taken these 2 by 2 metres of space and made them their own.
Their own little space where they were so close Crowley could smell Aziraphale’s scent as he moved around him and he could hear his bright voice talk to him and he could feel his gentle hands moving through his hair.
Even the sound of thunder he used to dislike so much he now found soothing in a way. Crowley wanted to stay here forever.
But he knew they couldn’t. And when they would eventually return to reality there were things they had to talk about.
Once the thought had crossed Crowley’s mind, he couldn’t let it go and so when Aziraphale was occupied with perfecting the haircut he opened his mouth to take the first step.
"I’m sorry for what I said earlier." He didn’t look at Aziraphale.
"Hm?" The angel kept working.
"The- about me, uh, fancying..." He couldn’t finish the sentence.
"Oh."
The angels’ eyes moved to Crowley’s face, hands going still before sinking to his sides.
Crowley was angry at himself. For having said it, knowing it might make Aziraphale uncomfortable. For his choice of words and the way he said them. Like it wasn’t important. Like this wasn’t Aziraphale, them, he was talking about, like there could be anything more important.
If Aziraphale knew about how he’d felt for over 6000 years, the thoughts and desires he’s had and the one’s he didn’t allow himself to have, maybe then he’d understand. But if he knew all that he'd probably never talk to Crowley again.
Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale’s eyes framed by drawn together brows. There was so much emotion in his gaze as it moved across Crowley’s face, trying to read him.
And then he looked at him like he did understand. All of it.
The pain, the love, the fear, the joy, the desire...
When he spoke, Aziraphale’s voice was rough with emotion and earnesty. "Crowley, I would never take your companionship so lightly as to abandon it simply because you said something I wasn’t ready to hear. And I- I’m truly sorry if I ever made you feel like that was the case."
Suddenly Crowley’s throat felt a little tight and he swallowed trying to find what he could say but not feeling like anything was right so he just said, "I don’t think I could ever abandon you."
Aziraphale slightly shook his head. “No, me neither." He looked at his hands and then back up again. "I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s okay and... It’s all been a bit difficult but now... well things have changed and I think I might be ready."
There was a silence in which Crowley was the face of utter befuddlement.
"Okay what are we talking about here? Ready for what?"
Aziraphale prepared himself, took a breath- and then changed his mind.
"I think it’s better if we have this conversation when I’m done with your hair." The second the words were out he was in motion again doing something by the tool set.
"Wo- No! Angel! Ready for what?" Crowley exclaimed a little exasperated.
"Oh shush, you can wait another 10 minutes." He replied, unfazed by the demon’s outcry. Aziraphale’s hands were steady and he smiled to himself while Crowley opened and closed his mouth like a fish but the angel's thoughts were already miles away, racing 10 minutes into the future and straying in their unvarying past.
"This is insane. You’re insane." Crowley eventually muttered.
Aziraphale put the comb and scissors aside and gently tilted Crowley's chin up so he could get a good look at how the haircut looked from the front. He nodded slowly. "I think my work here is done."
Crowley watched with wide eyes as Aziraphale proceeded to lean in and.. blow on the demon’s hair. A warm tickling sensation ran across his scalp.
"What did you just do?"
"Oh, I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Just a small miracle to get your hair dry. I don’t have a hairdryer."
Aziraphale ran his hands through the demon’s hair in an attempt to style it or at least that’s what he told himself was the reason. Reluctantly the angel stepped back and got Crowley a mirror, a little nervous whether the demon would like what he’d done even though it was very similar to the hairstyle he’d had before. After inspecting himself in the mirror Crowley smiled his upside-down smile and Aziraphale could only return it.
"I like it. Looks good."
"I agree."
He got a broom and quickly swept up Crowley’s cut off hair. The demon had offered to help but Aziraphale refused and told him he could open another bottle of wine.
While Aziraphale was somewhere in the back of the bookshop Crowley looked down at their glasses and saw they still had an opened wine bottle there but he realised he didn’t feel like drinking.
He also didn’t feel like sitting down so he just stood there a little awkwardly, waiting for Aziraphale to return.
When Aziraphale came back Crowley was standing by a bookshelf looking at the worn-down spines. He knew they wouldn’t simply go back to drinking and chatting and felt both excited and terrified about that.
Aziraphale stopped a few steps away from Crowley who turned around when he heard the footsteps.
"So…" The demon leaned against a table, putting his weight on his arm that rested on a book which immediately slipped away under the weight. Somehow, he was able to catch himself and shot a fear-of-Crowley-filled glance at the book before straightening up. "What might you be ready for?"
They hadn’t talked about the dancing or the hand holding or the idea of moving into a cottage together and maybe it was because Aziraphale was so used to not talking about those things and Crowley was too scared to.
Whatever it was the angel’s ‘I might be ready’ had disabled whatever security locks Crowley had left and now he wanted to know.
When Aziraphale didn’t reply immediately the demon hurriedly added
"I mean you don’t have to say. An- and if you’re not ready for whatever you said you might be ready for or just not ready to talk about what you might be ready for, that’s fine too. Totally. No pressure."
Aziraphale’s hands worried at the fabric of his cardigan. "I do want to talk about it. It’s just…"
Where could he start? Where could he possibly start with their thousands of years long history? He looked at Crowley who was standing a little closer now but still giving him enough space. The open and curious expression in his eyes so filled with hope, always filled with hope.
Aziraphale looked up. An action of habit but the steady comfort of belief he used to find in heaven's direction wasn’t there anymore. Instead, it felt like the invisible presence of it, the part of heaven that was rooted in his mind, his being, his past, was weighing him down.
He wouldn’t try to hold it up anymore.
Crowley waited patiently until Aziraphale found his voice. He would spend the rest of eternity waiting for him.
“I know it hasn’t always been easy for us.” He faltered realizing the understatement.
Aziraphale had always felt it but for most of his past he’d deliberately not felt it. The difficulty of it. And the truthfulness of it as well. His truth.
It was horribly stressful to suppress his emotions but he’d gotten so used to it. It was all he ever did in heaven. But he didn’t belong to that place anymore. If he ever had.
He belonged here, surrounded by the things he loved. Here with Crowley.
And he still believed in Her love. But he also believed in his own.
“It never was, was it?” He said quietly. Crowley didn’t move, the recognition of this simple truth feeling too heavy already.
“You’re the brave one Crowley, out of the two of us, you know that but I-
He willed himself to continue.
"My point is, there were things that weren’t safe to do or even think about because of heaven and hell more or less always having an eye on us. But now that that’s changed... well it’s hard to let old habits die but I don’t want to feel like heaven is always looming over my shoulder anymore. I- I don’t want that worry to control my thoughts and decisions anymore.
I want to be able to let you say those kinds of things and not feel like running away because you don’t deserve that and I don’t either. I-"
Aziraphale’s hands were moving rapidly through the air while he talked and the angel’s eyes had moved away from Crowley, frantically looking around.
"I want to be able to openly and unapologetically love- love- love-
Crowley had been frozen in place by surprise and shook but the second he saw how overwhelming this was for Aziraphale as well he was moving, the sheer importance of making sure his angel was okay washing over him, giving him composure.
His hands found Aziraphale’s shoulders giving them a light squeeze. "Hey."
Aziraphale turned his head and immediately relaxed a little when he saw Crowley, his hands falling against the demon’s chest.
He made a little oh noise noticing the tears in his own eyes and looked up trying not to let them fall. "I’m terribly sorry, this is not how I imagined this to go."
"Please Angel, you’ve got nothing to apologise for."
There was a beat of silence in which Crowley didn’t know what to do. He took a shaky breath. "Shit, I don’t think I’m any better at this."
Aziraphale gave a small laugh and Crowley smiled at him.
"I could- we could, I don’t know, try a hug? I think-
The angel’s arms were around him before he could even finish the sentence.
For a second Crowley was perplexed but then he gingerly did the same.
Though he’d often wanted to indulge in this way of giving or receiving comfort he couldn’t remember ever hugging someone. Watching humans do it sometimes made his heart ache a little but there wasn’t anyone he’d really want to be that close to except for Aziraphale.
The angel on the other hand had a fair amount of experience with hugging. The difference probably lay in the way they presented themselves and Aziraphale sometimes cursed his polite manner which had led to customers hugging him in thankfulness for being so kind.
Aziraphale mostly didn’t mind though and it made him rather sad that these people seemed to not have enough kindness in their lives.
Either way those hugs never actually meant anything to him. This one did.
Aziraphale’s arms were slung around Crowley, holding him close while his head rested on the demon’s shoulder. Crowley buried his nose in the angel’s soft locks, his hands clasping the fabric of Aziraphale’s sweater.
He closed his eyes, feeling his angel’s presence and getting lost in it. These bodies were merely shapes containing their otherworldly essence but in that moment he somehow felt as if there was nothing at all between them.
Their heart beats slowed, lining up, then going back to their own rhythm.
Crowley’s voice was soft and intimate. "Everything you said... I want that too. For you. For us. And please don’t ever apologise for feeling the way you feel." He whispered close to Aziraphale’s ear and the angel squeezed him, whispering into his shoulder. "Thank you."
They stayed like this for a while.
“Shall we continue our talk in a sitting position and finish that bottle of wine?” Aziraphale suggested eventually to which Crowley made an agreeing noise and reluctantly let go of him.
It took them a moment, separated by the space between them, to remember how to stand on their own. Aziraphale looked up at him with shining eyes and Crowley thought he was the most beautiful thing in the whole wide universe.
They sat back down, Crowley onto the couch and Aziraphale, who poured them another glass of wine, onto the armchair. They had been in this constellation a million times before yet Crowley couldn’t quite settle into the familiarity.
Despite all the emotion openly clinging to him, Aziraphale felt lighter, liberatingly so and it was with much more repose that he could now ask Crowley “So... you... fancy me?”
The demon almost choked on the sip of wine he was taking and cleared his throat.
"Well, that- I mean- Yeah." He groaned, annoyed by his own inability to just talk about it. After a moment he started again.
"It’s difficult to place us in the concept of human relationships. I know what I want and where that falls in their categories of platonic, romantic, sexual, it’s just… not that simple. Or maybe it is, I don’t know. 'Fancy' definitely doesn’t do it justice."
Crowley avoided the angel's gaze and continued to do so when Aziraphale asked "What do you want?"
The blanket that often laid over the couch’s armrest was pulled half over Crowley’s lap as he pulled at a string in the weaved fabric, swallowing nervously.
Before he could worry too much the couch next to him dipped and when he looked up Aziraphale was there sitting next to him.
One of Aziraphale’s hands was on his knee, palm upturned. Crowley recognized the offer and he wanted to hold Aziraphale’s hand, like he had when they danced and on their way back to the Bentley. He didn’t do it though.
"That. That’s what I want." His voice sounded hoarse with honesty and Aziraphale frowned at his own hand. "I want to be close to you. Physically. I want to touch you, hold hands, maybe even... I don’t know. But I’ve been wanting to- well, that."
He quickly looked at where Aziraphale’s hand had been, half expecting it to not be there anymore now that he had revealed he wanted to take it.
"Thank you for telling me." The angel's hand was still there, open and willing.
When he dared to look up, the angel wore an incredibly soft expression. "I think I want that too."
It took the demon a moment. He wants it too? He wants it too. He wants it too!
Slowly Crowley’s hand found its way into Aziraphale’s. He watched as their fingers interlaced, feeling a grounding warmth run through him.
Aziraphale adored Crowley’s orange eyes and the quiet smile on his face. But there was something he had to get off his chest.
"I think I might have taken advantage of the whole pretending to be a human couple thing. I used it as an excuse to do some things I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do otherwise and then I got frustrated because it didn’t actually change anything since you thought it was just an act. An act that I invented… I’m sorry."
His smile barely wavered, instead Crowley just scrunched up his nose a little as he said "Eh, I’m glad you did though. And I think I took a little advantage of it as well."
Aziraphale could never keep up with how quickly and earnestly Crowley forgave him, he was sure to frown at himself in the future but for now, he didn’t.
"You know, we don’t have to do anything we don’t want to. After all there are no rules on how to behave as a couple of supernatural entities on earth."
Crowley snorted as he leaned back against the couch. "No, there aren’t."
He watched Aziraphale lean back as well and when his back hit the couch, Crowley let himself fall to the side until his head lay on the angel’s shoulder.
Aziraphale smiled down at their intertwined hands.
“We make up our own rules.”
They stayed in content silence for a while before they resumed conversation.
It wasn’t solely talking of feelings or desires, now that they knew they could talk about those things they didn’t seem as urgent anymore so the familiarity of their banter and theorising was happily returned to.
The first brightness soon crept into the cloudy night sky and the wine bottle, they hadn’t opened another, was finally empty. Crowley’s head was lying in Aziraphale’s lap.
"S’ almost morning.” The demon observed. “I think this is the longest it ever took us to finish one single bottle of wine." To be fair, it stood out of reach while Aziraphale had cut Crowley’s hair, still it must be a record.
The angel hummed in agreement. His eyes were fixed on the window but Crowley could tell his mind was somewhere else.
He waited.
When Aziraphale’s gaze left the window with his brows drawn together Crowley gave his hand a little squeeze. The angel looked surprised when he found himself the centre of the demon's attention.
“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”
“I-“ He broke off, absentmindedly tracing the shape of Crowley’s hand in his.
“It’s odd. Not being obliged to heaven anymore. I mean I have you and the bookshop and earth which is what I want. I should have felt relief but instead it just felt like... losing purpose.”
Crowley sat up and Aziraphale gave him a troubled look. “I’m sorry, it’s silly.”
The demon shook his head, sitting up to properly look at Aziraphale. “No. It’s not. Odd or silly.”
He held the angel's hopeful gaze as he went on.
“In heaven, and in hell, you know what you are, what to be. You- you know what to believe and what to do. Can’t not because it’s what everyone expects of you, practically written all over their faces.” He scrunched up his face as if he could see them right in front of him. “Expectation. Limitation. It’s like you have this small space in which you have to live and if it doesn’t fit you, you get squeezed and have to hold your breath.”
He took a breath and looked at Aziraphale. “Or this little space holds you. Steadies you.”
The angel looked away.
“I think for me it did both. But… even if I don’t feel that steadiness anymore, I still sometimes feel like I can’t breathe.” He looked almost pained and Crowley hated that he had to feel like this. He knew the feeling all too well.
“You have all the space you want now. Which can be terrifying. But you can breathe, I promise you, you can. Even if sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. It’s like- You learned to take small breaths to live with the amount of air you had, right? You just... need to learn how to breathe again.”
Aziraphale had never heard Crowley talk this way before and despite the pain in his chest and the wetness in his eyes he felt a sense of wonderment.
“And you can find other things that steady you.”
Aziraphale nodded. He knew this was true. He loved being on earth with Crowley. More than anything. But sometimes it still hurt. Existing for himself. Sometimes he felt so awfully selfish and lost. But then he looked at those orange eyes. He argued and laughed about the most inconsequential things and those frighteningly consequential questions suddenly lost all their importance.
Between them lay the unspoken but known truth; being with you steadies me.
To his own surprise Crowley soon felt his limbs grow heavy, his eyelids longing to fall shut and he yawned. It had been an extraordinarily long day and he was feeling extraordinarily comfortable.
At first he protested against Aziraphale’s offer to sleep in the room upstairs but at the spoken prospect of the angels continued presence he agreed.
Crowley hadn’t slept in a while, not properly anyway. He’d taken lots of naps but never let himself fall deep enough to dream.
They made their way up the winding staircase to the bedroom door but when he opened it found, with appropriate surprise, the bed of said room was barely distinguishable in between dozens of… plants?!
Crowley gaped at Aziraphale who wore a similar expression until his brows rose in remembrance. "Dear me, I completely forgot! Oh, please never trust me with your plants ever again, it seems as soon as I want to do them any good, I forget about them."
The angel was too busy internally scolding himself to add any explanation.
"Sorry, how did the entirety of my flat's plant population make their way into your bedroom?"
"Oh, um, I might have performed a minor miracle. You see after the news about the gas leak everything got a bit, well you know that bit but I realised and thought you might not in all the agitation, that plants quite need oxygen so I transferred them here.”
Captivated by the sight of his plants in this environment he walked into the room. His fingertips brushed against a Monstera which, along with the others, received a rueful whisper of “Oh, I didn’t think of that.” They accepted his apology.
Crowley kneeled down to inspect the plants around him, looking for any signs of damage but was relieved to find none. Rather the opposite. “Huh. They seem to be taking their change of residence quite well.”
“Oh?” Aziraphale joined Crowley on the floor and in his inspection.
“They won’t like the amount of dust in here but other than that they like it.”
“How can you tell?”
Crowley turned his full attention back to Aziraphale, only now catching up to the fact that the angel was sitting next to him. “I can feel it.”
Aziraphale suddenly felt flustered about their closeness but willed himself not to shy away. “That’s um, that’s good. I’m glad they like it here. Poor little plant downstairs probably doesn’t anymore.”
The corner of Crowley’s mouth lifted into an amused smile “It`ll forgive you. Especially now that you’ve saved its family. Thank you.” He intently looked at Aziraphale making sure the angel knew it meant a lot to him.
There was that strange feeling of nerves again, an odd contrast to the calm and steadiness he felt but when Aziraphale allowed it to tickle through him he realised it wasn’t of any worrying nature at all.
He was drawn to look at Crowley’s lips, to feel the humming space between them. The angel wanted to be closer to him. Crowley was breathing a little faster now and his eyes searched Aziraphale’s “Do you feel that too?”
The demon’s eyes wandered to his mouth as well and Aziraphale felt his body react with an excited heartbeat “Certainly do.” The angel whispered back.
Crowley swayed forth and then back again in uncertainty.
“Can I…?”
Aziraphale only found the verbal strength to hum in agreement and Crowley timidly, as if he were touching something fragile, reached his hand to Aziraphale’s cheek, his breath ghosting against the angel’s skin, and then, even gentler yet, he brought his lips against Aziraphale’s.
For a moment he was lost in the feeling of Crowley’s lips against his. The focused nature of it, his body and mind seemingly agreeing that there was nothing more important. The angel instinctively brought his hand to Crowley’s neck to steady the kiss and in this gentle and unfamiliar gesture he found such joyful familiarity that when they broke apart Aziraphale’s eyes were crinkling alongside the warmest smile.
It was reflected in orange eyes that studied the angel and Crowley didn’t know there was so much space inside of him but there must be because he felt it and every single centimetre of it was filled with love.
“Are you okay?” Aziraphale asked a teary-eyed Crowley. “Oh, I’m fine. More than fine, I’m amazing. Feeling positively ineffable.” He laughed wetly.
Crowley had longed for this for such a long time. His freedom he’d fought for and acquired a while ago but this, the shared freedom that they were starting to own was something new. And something they were sure never to let go.
With shimmering eyes Aziraphale asked “Do you want to do the hugging thing aga-
But Crowley had already fallen forward into his arms, squeezing the angel and his eyes shut while little tears made their way past smile lines.
Crowley found his way into bed after all, making himself comfortable on one half while Aziraphale got a book and made tea to settle into the other half.
He didn’t fall asleep immediately, instead basking in the cosiness of their situation.
Gentle rain pitter pattered against the bedroom window beyond which a grey sunrise was beginning. Most of the room's free space was occupied by plants. Plants on the windowsill, plants on the bookshelves, floor and the little bedside table, the one not currently used by Aziraphale who had begun to read.
Crowley found that there was something about the plants in this bookish background that made sense. They fit in somehow. As sleep started to draw him in and after he made Aziraphale promise not to let him sleep for too long, a thought crossed his mind that his half asleep-self needed to follow.
“Angel?”
“Yes?”
“Did you mean it?” He blinked up at the angel who turned his gaze away from the book then.
“Mean what, dear?”
“The thing about the cottage.”
“Oh, well yes, I would love for that to happen.”
“No, I mean the part about me, y’know, coming with you.”
“That was the part I was thinking of.”
“Oh.” Crowley’s eyes were calling it a day and he nuzzled into his pillow, satisfied. “I’d love that too.”
-----------
Waves leapt softly onto the beach of the english seaside. It wouldn’t stay calm much longer though for dark clouds were gathering in the east over the ocean. A thunderstorm was on its way.
In a cottage not far away an angel and a demon were making dinner. Or trying to, cooking was something they both didn’t have much practice in yet but they’d decided to give it a go.
Right now, Crowley was doing all the cooking because Aziraphale was lost looking out the window, past the slowly sprouting nature that was their garden and onto the nearing darkness. He felt a twinge of sadness at the prospect of the sun that was finally showing its face more often now that the seasons were changing, leaving early for the day.
From the stove threatening mutters of "You are not going to burn, don’t you dare burn." came from Crowley who had gotten very close to the pan to utter his threats and jerked back when a droplet of hot grease jumped up at his face.
He gaped at the food’s counter attack and looked for Aziraphale but lost his train of thought when he spotted the angel by the window.
Leaving the spatula next to the sink, he sauntered over to rest his chin on the angel’s shoulder.
"I think I’m looking forward to summer time." Aziraphale said while leaning his head against Crowley’s.
"Yeah? You wanna take a swim in the ocean?" His arms snuck around the angel’s waist and jumped with Aziraphale’s stomach when he laughed.
"Oh dear, no. Well, I’m not entirely averse to the idea but no. I just miss the sun. The birds." He sighed, settling his arms atop the slim ones around his waist.
"You know there’s a couple of doves building a nest in the apple tree?" Their apple tree.
Crowley didn’t need to say this because 1. it was the nearest apple tree but more importantly because 2. everything that they’d taken with them when they’d moved here and everything that 'here' was had automatically become theirs. Which had been just fine with both of them.
"There is? Oh." Aziraphale smiled. "And you let them?"
Crowley grumbled something that sounded like "Couldn’t just shoo them away, could I?" And obviously he could have done just that but Aziraphale didn’t comment and he wouldn’t do so when on the next morning he’d see that the still unfinished nest had somehow survived the nightly storm. The one brewing on the horizon. The one that had just stirred up a question which made Aziraphale frown a little.
"Say, do you still dislike thunderstorms?"
When a hole gets filled it ceases to exist and there’s nothing but memory to remind you it was ever there. That’s why Crowley said "No?" a little confused. It took him a second to remember the hole of loneliness he’d carried with him for a long time. That it had occasionally expanded into the outside world. Into thunderstorms. "Oh."
When it came to acknowledging and talking about their feelings, they had made great improvements such as, actually acknowledging and talking about their feelings.
Sometimes it was just small things and sometimes it was a clogged-up stream of emotions that hadn’t been tended to in thousands of years. Those usually ended with hugs and tears or great big arguments that, not much later, ended in hugs and tears as well.
It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it was really damn hard but they kept trying and that’s what mattered. They always would try. For each other.
"Nah, they’re fine." Crowley said and gave Aziraphale a peck on the cheek. And then because yes, he was trying to be more vulnerable but he was still Crowley, he added "I mean, they are a touch dramatic y'know? Didn’t have to make thunder that loud or lightning that bright."
Aziraphale hummed, satisfied with the answer he’d gotten.
"Well, it used to be a tool of communication from god to the mortals so it had to be somewhat... impressive."
Crowley considered this. "I suppose you have a point. I sometimes forget she’s really up there somewhere." He thoughtfully looked at the patch of nearing darkness and the sky above. If he’d been able to see Aziraphale’s expression he might have been surprised to see a similar pondering look on the angel’s face.
They stood there frowning at the sky but before any actual thoughts or ideas could sprout Aziraphale scrunched up his nose and said "Do you smell that?"
Behind them the contents of the pan were sizzling and smoking angrily.
"Oh, fuck, bugger, shitting food! I swear to-
So, Crowley still didn’t like thunderstorms. But he also didn’t dislike them. Like most people he simply didn’t mind. But when they did happen, Crowley felt very fortunate to huddle up next to the person he loved most and complain about them.