Chapter Text
Aziraphale sighed with a smile as he stepped back into his book shop, happy that it was kept safe and perfectly disorganized in his absence, and from one glance he could tell that not a single book had been sold or given away without his permission. Finally, back home after all this time. He rounded the corner into the small lounge, expecting Muriel to be reading there, but instead found a demon. Crowley, specifically. Crowley sat there in the chair, slumped and twisted into an odd position as usual, a few empty bottles of wine sitting on the table beside him that looked like they were months old. He was staring up at the ceiling, sunglasses on despite the fact that he usually didn’t wear them in the bookshop. The angel cleared his throat and Crowley’s head snapped up suddenly, taking off his glasses with speed that was stark compared to his tired demeanor he had moments before. The demon let out an almost exasperated word.
“Angel?” That familiar old nickname, the demon rarely called him by anything else, not even his actual name.
“Hello, Crowley…” He smiled a bit, nodding to him slightly, a bit awkward after seeing the demon for the first time in months—maybe even years—especially after their parting argument.
The demon suddenly scoffed angrily. “You leave me alone for a year and a half to go play hero in heaven and then come back saying ‘Hello Crowley’?!” He let out a furious laugh. “I thought you were above being petty, Angel, but then you went and did what you did. I guess even angels can be flawed like demons are, or maybe I just rubbed off on you.” He remarked, keeping his witty air about him despite how clearly angry he was.
“I-well..” Aziraphale sputtered a bit before pausing and finally speaking properly. “I was on limited time when I left…I didn’t have time to explain my plan.” He said gently, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Desperation that Crowley—his best…friend…—would listen to what he hadn’t had the chance to explain the first time.
“Plan? What plan! You never mentioned a plan! If you just did that I would’ve listened to you!” He spat out angrily before standing up and walking up to the angel with his usual confident, hip-swaying walk. He stared into his eyes with those bright yellow snake eyes of his. Though most would consider the man’s eyes terrifying or unsettling, Aziraphale loved them. The color, the slit pupil, it was so unique and utterly him. Crowley always used his eyes as an intimidation factor, letting his eyes bore into Aziraphale. Somehow—despite how many times Aziraphale had experienced this—it still worked on him, the angel shrinking down a bit under the unwavering gaze.
“Tell me this plan.” Crowley demanded through clenched teeth.
“Well I- um- er-“ He took a deep breath, steadying his will, then beginning to explain. “When I was offered the position, I didn’t want to go. I told the metatron ‘I don’t want to go back to heaven’ but he insisted…In that moment, I devised a plan. One that would hopefully make everything alright again. I’d take the role, go up to heaven—wether you were with me or not didn’t entirely matter, though I’d preferred to not have been separated from you for so long—and then I’d fix things. I’d help heaven realize the error in their ways, how they’d misunderstood the word of the Almighty, and how they’d been unknowingly doing the opposite of what They wanted to. I’d help them restructure and change their ways to do what they were supposed to, which in turn would result in no one ever even considering starting another armageddon or making the second coming in the rest of eternity. Then, once I was certain everything was in its place and wouldn’t budge, I’d step down from the position—appointing someone new and trustworthy in my place—and waltz my way back down here to come back to my book shop…and back to you.” He hastily explained the plan he had come up with, speaking a little faster than normal so he could get it out before Crowley most-likely interrupted him in anger. But when he was expecting the demon to complain or get even angrier, he just stayed silent. Completely silent. It was scarier than when he was angry, somehow, the air buzzing with tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife and serve it up on a piece of toast. Then he finally spoke.
“You went up there, practically abandoned me, because you wanted to make things unable to go wrong again?” He asked, voice oddly soft in stark contrast to his anger earlier.
“In a way, yes…I just…I wanted us to be, well, us, without having to deal with trying to stop armagheddon or any other version of the end of the world…I wanted to make sure that we could be down here without having to worry about things like that interrupting our lives anymore…we’re on our side now, just like you—like we—wanted.“ Aziraphale spoke out, voice less rushed and almost calm, as if he was back to normal even though deep down he was completely panicking.
Crowley stepped back, sitting back down, face halfway stunned and halfway almost…grateful? Then he finally spoke, looking up at the angel, his eyes glassy as if he was about to cry…he had never seen Crowley cry before, never even seen him near it. Yet, the look was familiar. Then it hit him. Crowley’s eyes had been glossy like that when they had fought just before he had left…except this time the tears were almost free.
“Angel?” Crowley asked softly, though it took Aziraphale a moment to realize it was Crowley’s voice and not just one in his head, the tone and the way his voice cracked mid-word was so unlike him.
“Yes?” He chimed gently in response, taking a small step closer to where the demon sat in his chair.
“I really felt so angry at you for nothing?” He let out an exasperated laugh.
“Not nothing..” he mumbled, stepping closer again. “I did do things wrong, I’m not faultless. Yes, I didn’t have time…but I also focused on the wrong part when I told you about the opportunity. I focused on my excitement to fix heaven, my excitement that I could pardon you..when I should’ve thought for a moment and known that you’d never want to be pardoned, because you like your life here the way it is. You don’t want to choose sides, you never have.” He took a deep breath.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did…” the angel mumbled gently. “The thing I said just before you left…”
“What..the whole “I forgive you” piece of shit petty remark?” Crowley chimed out, his witty banter never failing even when he was on the verge of tears.
“Yes…that.” He hesitated before leaning against the chair’s arm rest beside Crowley. “I shouldn’t have said that…you should be the one saying that to me, even though I don’t deserve your forgiveness…”
“You’re an angel, you’re all about forgiveness. I’d say you deserve it.” He remarked, smirking a bit, the action causing a single tear to fall from the corner of his eye. Aziraphale turned to him and gently reached down, hesitating for a small moment before wiping the tear from his cheek with his thumb.
“That’s almost angelic of you, you know.” Aziraphale laughed, falling back into their usual banter just like before. “Forgiving people when they don’t deserve it.”
“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, smiling up at him.
“That just proves I’m right.” He smiled. Then, both of them fell silent. It was a warm silence, the air no longer tense and palpable, just them and the smells of the bookshop with the muffled sounds of London outside. Then, Aziraphale spoke again. “You know…during the argument before I left…you…you said something about being a ‘group of the two of us’…” he mumbled.
“Yeah?” He asked, glancing up at him.
“I talked to Nina and Maggie before I came over here…they asked me about that argument, if I had any questions or needed something you had said ‘decoded’ for me…I asked them to tell me what you could’ve meant by that whole spiel…and..” the angel hesitated nervously. “They both said that they thought that was your way of saying…erm..your way of saying that you…that you loved me…” he mumbled out nervously, hands almost shaking as they fiddled with the buttons on his coat. “Were they right?” He finally asked.
Crowley slumped back onto the chair, staring up at the ceiling, as if unable to look the angel in the eyes. “They’re right..” he mumbled…that made Aziraphale’s heart stop for a moment, blood rushing to his face, heart beginning to pound quickly a moment later. Was he serious? He couldn’t be…but…that kiss…it only made sense if he did…
“Is…that why you kissed me?” He asked softly, uncertain. The demon only nodded.
“I…I don’t know how I didn’t even notice…I…you could’ve told me…how long have you…felt like that?” He asked softly.
“Since the issue with Job…when we were in the cellar, that’s when it started…” he said flatly, as if uncaring about how oddly vulnerable he was being. That’s when Aziraphale realized that he was openly crying, tears streaming down his cheeks silently. He reached out and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, his hands lingering on his face for a moment too long.
“Why are you crying?” Aziraphale asked softly, worry showing in his voice.
“Because I know it can’t ever happen. I’m your best friend, nothing more…I could never be more, you wouldn’t want me to be.” He mumbled out, voice cracking at the end…this was so vulnerable, so out of character for him.
“Oh, oh Crowley.” Aziraphale let out, almost as a little prayer of happiness… “That title..’best friend’…it hurts me just to call you that…I…I can’t stand that being all that you are, I just never knew you wanted more…” he mumbled softly. The demon looked up at him silently.
“Would you let us start being that now…? I know we can’t forget what happened, but…we’ve spent thousands of years loving each other silently…it’s better late than never.” Aziraphale asked gently. “I’ll make it up to you if I need to, I promise, anything you want me to do to make it up to you…if it means we can be together now…” He almost pleaded with the demon, looking down at him and looking so utterly terrified that he would say no.
“I have three things that will make it up to me, just do them as I ask.” Crowley said, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair, wiping away the remnants of tears.
“Anything.” Aziraphale responded. He was willing, no matter what it was. He didn’t care, he just wanted to be with him.
“First. Do the dance.” Crowley smirked at him. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, and succeeding all too well. Aziraphale almost laughed at the request but obliged nonetheless, stepping back and proceeding to clear his throat. He got his arms and legs in position and then began to sing the little song and do that silly little dance, the one he’d done so many times.
When he was done, Crowley gave him a few slow claps. “Wonderful,” he chimed, “Ten out of ten, apology accepted.” He smiled at him.
“Next?” He asked softly, wanting to get through the favors as fast as possible.
“Next,” Crowley stood, waking over to stand in front of Aziraphale, “Promise that you’ll never be stupidly petty like that again.” He stared down into his eyes, this one not at all as joking as the first request.
“I promise.” He said, having to force himself to not shrink down under the demon’s unwavering gaze.
“Good.” He smiled a bit. “Third, Kiss me back this time.”
“Wh-“ Before Aziraphale could get out his surprised comment, he was cut off by the demons lips being planted onto his—firmly and passionately—just like he had when they had argued before…this time—instead of freezing in shock the entire time—he only froze for a moment before gently embracing Crowley and leaning into it a bit, though he was a little nervous as he had only been kissed once before.
A few moments later, they broke apart, Aziraphale panting slightly while Crowley remained completely unbothered. “Well, there you go. Your favors to make up for it have been successfully completed.” He smirked. “Your wonderful grand prize for your oh-so amazing feats,” the demon did a bit of a drumroll on his legs before waving his hand in the air in an arc, “The ever so illustrious—and incredibly handsome—Anthony J. Crowley as your loyal and loving boyfriend.” He took a bow, his smile something the angel couldn’t help but relish in.
Aziraphale then stepped forward, hesitantly taking Crowley’s hand in his own before being delightfully surprised by the demon reciprocating the touch.
“Thank you. For a lot of things, but especially this.” He said gently.
“Thank you for sticking with me despite me being a pain in the arse.” Crowley replied, laughing a bit with that familiar smirk.
“I guess I’ve just gotten numb to it then.” He retorted back, hoping it was as clever as it sounded in his head.
“I guess so.” Crowley replied, smiling at him. Then he gently reached a hand into his hair and brought him in for another kiss, albeit gentler this time. This one Aziraphale easily reciprocated, letting his arms loop around Crowley’s waist and tugging him tighter against him, before pulling away a few moments later. He smiled up at him. Crowley spoke first, in a small but sweet moment of vulnerability.
“I love you.” He whispered out, yellow eyes no longer trying to intimidate him, but simply looking at him. His words made Aziraphale’s heart almost stop for another time today, the honesty catching him off guard.
“I love you too.” He said back after his shock wore off, smiling gently. Then Crowley pulled him tightly against his chest, as if protective or even scared that he’d disappear. “I’ll never leave again, I swear.” Aziraphale mumbled softly as he let his head rest against his chest, a promise he was certain he’d never dare to come even close to breaking.
Now it seemed, to both of them, that things really had gone alright in the end. And they both heard the nightingales…