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The world had been saved, Heaven and Hell were staying away for now, and Crowley should be happy, right? Wrong. Instead, he was mostly just restless. It felt like suddenly his world had tilted five degrees and he was having trouble adjusting. In reality, a lot had changed when Adam put the world back together because he hadn’t quite known how it had been assembled in the first place. That’s what happens when a preteen is in charge instead of God. But that wasn’t what was bothering Crowley.
Now that Aziraphale and Crowley were free of angelic and hellish expectations, well, things were different. For one, they were spending a lot more time together. Getting ice cream in the park still, yes, but also going to lunch at the Ritz and picnicking. It was still more than that, however. Aziraphale seemed freer around him like he was letting himself just enjoy Crowley’s company for the first time. He wasn’t worried about Heaven finding out about their Arrangement, Crowley guessed.
Take, for example, the time that they had gone to see the London Orchestra play and got talking about long-forgotten composers. One topic led to another and soon enough it was dawn and they were reminiscing about the original Olympics. Crowley had never heard Aziraphale speak louder than when he was trying to convince Crowley that bananas used to taste different and Crowley couldn’t stop laughing long enough to take him seriously.
This newly liberated Aziraphale would have ordinarily been a good thing; the problem was only when Crowley thought about all the other things that accompanied their new interactions. He laughed louder, held eye contact longer, and even asked Crowley to spend time together. Before the would-be-apocalypse, Crowley was always the one who took the first step, but not now. Now, Aziraphale was the one asking Crowley to come by the bookshop or take a trip out to Tadfield to visit the Them.
The worst change of all is that he kept touching Crowley on his hand, shoulder, knee (even his hair once!). Aziraphale was, all of a sudden, much more giving with physical affection. Crowley felt like he was in free-fall: exhilarated but afraid of impact. After all, this limbo could not last and Crowley was unsure if, when they finally hit the ground, his world would shatter into a million pieces.
Just like when Crowley was gesturing too wildly with a bottle of wine in his hand and Aziraphale delicately touched his hand to get him to stop moving so much. They had both frozen, staring at each other in sudden silence until Crowley cleared his throat and gently pulled away to set the bottle down. Crowley would spend a lot of sleepless hours in bed agonizing about what Aziraphale could have possibly been thinking during that moment.
Aziraphale’s new behavior sometimes made Crowley’s heart stop and other times made it beat too fast, but the demon could survive both of those things. The trouble was the angel’s words from that cursed night in the Bentley still haunted him despite the years to move on. Whenever Crowley would catch himself staring into Aziraphale’s eyes or going to place a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, a record would play in his head and remind him: “you go too fast for me, Crowley.”
Like the time Crowley finally convinced Aziraphale to come with him to the movies, “alright, just this once, okay, Crowley?” He had been talking them up to Aziraphale ever since It Happened One Night came out in 1934. He didn’t know a lot of what was currently playing but he remembered The Lion King from when it came out the first time, so he took Aziraphale to see the remake. Pretty quickly into the film, Aziraphale leaned over the armrest and, pressed against Crowley’s side with his mouth extremely close to Crowley’s ear, whispered: “this is just Hamlet with lions, right?” His breath was hot on Crowley’s neck and the moment seemed to hang before Crowley reminded himself that it couldn’t mean what he wanted it to mean. Crowley pulled back so that when he turned to respond he didn’t end up kissing Aziraphale. It felt like a jerky, awkward motion but he had to put some space between them, or he may have had a heart attack before the end of Hakuna Matata . He just hoped Aziraphale hadn’t noticed his discomfort.
Each interaction would inevitably end with Crowley looking away or pulling back, leaving Aziraphale none the wiser to the battle raging inside his companion’s head. He couldn’t bear the thought of pushing too much and losing his best friend (again). He would take what Aziraphale gave him and never ask for more, lest he runs Aziraphale off. This continued for quite some time before one night when they had a little too much to drink and too little to keep them apart.
It was one of London’s infamous rainy days and so while they had planned a picnic, as was quickly becoming a Thursday tradition for the pair, they had not wanted to venture outside. Thus, with the snap of fingers, the table was out of the way and there was a miraculously comfortable blanket on the floor of the bookshop.
Aziraphale was sitting with his back against a bookshelf, the only sign of how much he’d drank being the slight flush high on his cheeks. Crowley, on the other hand, was sprawled across the blanket and gesturing wildly.
“—and that’s why, Angel, people paying in cash never having the correct change the first time they look is the worst thing that demons ever accomplished here on Earth.” His glasses had slipped down his nose and just as he touched the frames to push them back up, Aziraphale suddenly leaned over and put a hand over his. Crowley’s eyes widened and he stopped breathing.
“Oh, and you’re sure, dear, that that’s not just the way it feels and you actually changed something? It sounds like you’re simply taking credit without actually causing any extra hardship.” Aziraphale said, with a gentle look and a small smile on his face. It made Crowley fume. Nowadays Crowley was less staunch about defending his demonic prowess, but they had never openly acknowledged just how little bad Crowley had really ever done in the name of Hell.
Crowley’s first instinct was to sit upright and rebuke the idea that he wasn’t as bad as he claimed, but doing so would move Aziraphale’s hand from where it lay still gently resting on Crowley’s on his glasses. He wasn’t angry enough to be willing to give Aziraphale’s touch up. So instead he simply turned his head towards the angel, prompting Aziraphale to slowly remove the sunglasses out from underneath Crowley’s hand. After gently setting them to the side, Aziraphale turned back to Crowley and was surprised at the glare he was receiving from Crowley’s snake eyes. He had insinuated a little too much, then. Before he could say anything more about Crowley’s true nature to calm him, the demon sat up.
“And what about you, yeah? All of your reports back to Heaven contain 100% accurate, truthful accounts of your time here on Earth?” Crowley said lowly. A hurt look crossed Aziraphale’s face and that wasn’t what Crowley was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to be known as the only celestial nonconformist in the room.
“No, Crowley, that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?” Crowley’s eyebrows scrunched and he let go of some of his anger at Aziraphale’s tone. He could never stay angry with his Angel for very long.
“I just meant…” Aziraphale paused. “Well, I guess I was just teasing you. We’re on our own side now, and that means no guilt over past actions, right?”
Crowley sighed and dropped back down to his original position on the floor, propped up on his elbows. He let his head hang back for a moment before looking back at the angel. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Aziraphale smiled and slowly moved so that he was mirroring Crowley’s position on the floor. He gently rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder and stared at the ceiling. “Do you ever worry about what is going to happen when they get tired of waiting for the next opportunity to start their war?”
Crowley closed his eyes and tried to remember how to breathe. Aziraphale’s head was only the gentlest of pressures against him and it still made it difficult for him to concentrate. There was a long pause before Crowley answered, at first in a whisper, “yes, of course I do. But what can we do about that right now? It’s not worth our time to worry about something we can’t predict.”
Later he might blame it on the alcohol, or the ambiance, but whatever it was, Aziraphale felt a sudden burst of courage. “Right. No time like the present, I guess.”
Aziraphale lifted his head off of Crowley’s shoulder and when Crowley caught his eye, he looked almost scared. Aziraphale quickly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Look, Angel —” Crowley started to reassure him that they would figure out whatever came at them in the future, but before he could, Aziraphale’s lips were tenderly pressed against Crowley’s.
Crowley’s hands flew to the sides of Aziraphale’s face as he closed his eyes and tilted his head. When Aziraphale pulled back a few seconds later, they both blinked like they were coming up from underwater. Crowley’s mouth was slightly open, and he looked gobsmacked. He had long since resigned himself to the fact that he would have to live his endless existence with an unrequited love for his best friend. He had eventually decided that he was simply asking too much from their friendship: too much time, too much commitment. He had not let himself consider Aziraphale having romantic feelings for him in thousands of years. The conclusion hurt too much the first time to force himself to it again.
Aziraphale smiled hopefully and ran his hand through Crowley’s hair. He left it cupping the back of Crowley’s head behind his ear. Crowley had composed himself to ask, “why now? You have to know how I feel for you.” His voice came out choked and pained like he was forcing the words out but was afraid of the answer.
Aziraphale made a soft noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t know what I know. What do you feel for me?”
Crowley closed his eyes. “You do. You know.”
“Crowley…”
Crowley was breathing harshly, his eyes full of pain, but the words he spoke were still quiet in the peace of the bookshop. “I love you! I haven’t been subtle about it; you must have known!”
“Yes, Crowley dear, I knew. I know. It’s just that… before, well, before we couldn’t be together in that way. To care for each other like that.”
“What? Why?”
“Crowley…” Aziraphale had known, somewhere in his subconscious, that Crowley didn’t see the same obstacles that he did. But those obstacles were gone now. “What would they have done to us, if we had… well. If we were… that to each other, before?”
“You’re saying you… you wanted me and didn’t do anything about it because you were afraid of what Heaven would think?” Crowley’s voice rose in volume as he spoke. He had turned his head so that Aziraphale couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes, but Aziraphale knew what he would have seen. Aziraphale’s hand made a thump as it hit the ground, fallen from the side of Crowley’s head in the movement.
“Not what they would think. What they would do.”
Those words only confirmed Crowley’s growing fears since Aziraphale said he had wanted to be together since before the nonpocalypse. It meant that Crowley mattered less to Aziraphale than Heaven. That Aziraphale was settling for him now as a second choice after his estrangement from Heaven. “You ignored my love for you because you might have been written up for it?” His voice was full of hurt; his words were laced with venom.
“No!” Aziraphale yelled, pained that Crowley could think such a thing. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. “I – I couldn’t risk you – your safety. Heaven – well, Heaven does not really like me. And if they had an excuse, a – a reason to believe that you and I were even on speaking terms…” The pain behind Aziraphale’s words felt like a knife stabbing Crowley in the chest. He had never known Aziraphale to stutter so much. “Well, I was afraid they would come for you. Would hurt you, even kill you! Crowley, you have to know that I couldn’t risk it.”
Aziraphale reached a hand out toward Crowley but stopped before it reached its destination. They both stared at the hand floating in midair for a moment before Crowley pressed it to his face. He slowly leaned in until his forehead was resting against Aziraphale’s. Crowley buried his other hand in Aziraphale’s hair. They stayed that way for a long moment as Crowley processed what Aziraphale had told him. He understood, after his trip to Heaven in Aziraphale’s face, that these fears were legitimate. The other angels had bullied Aziraphale, made it clear that they disliked him. Crowley also knew from Aziraphale that Gabriel and his followers had gotten physical with him before.
Eventually, he whispered his understanding, “so you’ve known I’m in love with you, but you never acted on it because you were afraid Heaven would kill me if they found out.”
“Yes.”
“And now that Heaven is staying far away from us, you kissed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” Aziraphale pulled back so that he could look into Crowley’s eyes. The fondness and slight amusement he found there made him soften.
“You still haven’t told me how you feel about me,” Crowley smirked.
At that, Aziraphale lunged at Crowley, causing the demon to fall on his back with Aziraphale on top of him. They landed in a passionate kiss with their arms wrapped around one another. They were both smiling as they separated, and tears rolled down Aziraphale’s cheeks. The brilliant smile they accompanied gave away their nature as tears of joy. “I love you, Crowley. I’ve loved you for 6,000 years and I will continue to love you for as long as you will have me.”
Crowley brushed the tears off Aziraphale’s cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you too, Angel, more than anything.” The kiss they shared was soft, but they quickly sank into one another more deeply.
A few days later, the couple was cuddling on the bookstore couch. Aziraphale was lying on his back and reading with one arm around Crowley, who was lying between Aziraphale and the back of the couch, half on top of Aziraphale. Crowley was mostly amusing himself by drawing patterns on Aziraphale’s chest with a finger, but he would occasionally get lost in thought and go still. During one of these periods, Aziraphale felt him open his mouth and take a breath like he was about to speak several times, but every time he would just relax again and slowly sigh. Aziraphale was content waiting for Crowley to gather himself enough to speak.
“You know, I thought that you didn’t love me.” Crowley eventually muttered, quiet enough that Aziraphale almost didn’t hear.
“What, before?”
“Yeah. You could have just explained the Heaven thing and we could have figured it out.” Crowley said, a little petulantly. Despite the childish tone, he had clearly thought about this a lot and it had been bothering him.
“You’re too stubborn for that, dear.” Aziraphale smiled softly and shifted slightly so that they could face each other better.
“What do you mean?” Crowley’s face was carefully masked, but Aziraphale could see that he was a little hurt at the implication.
“Crowley, if I told you that I returned your love before the apocalypse, you wouldn’t have been content with what we had.”
“But we could have –” Crowley started to argue, before stopping because he realized that he was only proving Aziraphale’s point. He sighed as he settled back onto Aziraphale’s chest. “It’s just that we wasted so much time.”
“I wouldn’t call it a waste.” Aziraphale can only see the top of Crowley’s head, but he knows the face Crowley is pulling, so he continues, “just think of all the time we have to look forward to.”
Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale as if trying to get closer to him, but there was no more air between them. He clutched his hand tightly into Aziraphale’s vest instead. Aziraphale stroked his hand down Crowley’s back and asked, “what brought this on?”
Crowley tensed and there was a long pause as he worked up the nerve to tell Aziraphale the truth. “Why would you love a demon?”
Aziraphale was filled with understanding. “Crowley, you may be a demon, but I love you because of that, not in spite of it.”
“How could you possibly –”
“When Heaven cast you out, She told you you were evil. But you weren’t then, and you aren’t now. You have never given in to what other people want from you, whether that was Hell, or God, or me. You’ve always done what you’ve felt to be right.”
“No, I’ve done –”
“You forget, my dear, that I know you. Yes, you did acts in the name of Hell. But you did those things because you had to, and you made a point to never actually hurt anyone. I remember the paintball guns.” They were quiet for a moment before Aziraphale continued, “but that’s not the only reason I love you, you know. I love you because of the way you love that car, and Queen, and your plants. I love you because of the way you cared for Warlock. I love you because of your ridiculous sunglasses and the over-the-top way you walk.”
“Hey –” Crowley started, but Aziraphale steamrolled over his protests.
“I fell in love with you because you listen to me. For the last 6,000 years, the person who knew me best was you, and even though you don’t care much for food or books, you care when I do. You always impressed me with your bravery, from the very beginning. You’re so funny, too, when you want to be. Don’t even get me started on your hair! Did you know that back when we wouldn’t see each other for decades at a time I would think about what it was going to look like when I saw you again?”
After a beat where Crowley realized Aziraphale expected a response, he smiled, “no.”
“I did! And sometimes, even from the very beginning, when we were apart, I would catch myself thinking ‘I bet Crowley would like this’ or ‘I want to show Crowley this’ and have to remind myself that I couldn’t.” At this point, Aziraphale turned so that he could see Crowley’s face once more. Crowley was blushing deeply and had a small smile on his lips but kept his eyes on his hand on Aziraphale’s chest. “Dear, I could go on, and I vow to remind you often in the future of these things, but do you know now that we were not together before because I didn’t love you? That I’ve loved you for what feels like forever?”
Crowley swallowed thickly and met Aziraphale’s eyes with his red-rimmed ones. “Yes.” His voice was thick. He rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s and took a deep breath, accumulating to the new knowledge he would carry with him. He couldn’t wait for when Aziraphale’s voice saying he loved him replaced the warning from the Bentley on the record player in Crowley’s mind. “I love you, too,” he said, and he moved in to press his lips against Aziraphale’s. The kiss tasted like the future and they were headed towards it together.
If, later, Heaven and Hell both find out that an angel and a demon who love each other make a formidable opponent, if only for their knack for collecting powerful allies, well, that’s a story for another time.