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Crowley was tired. He wasn't just physically tired, but also psychologically and emotionally. He just wanted some rest, wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling, just for a while. He wanted to lose consciousness for a few days, forget he was even alive, forget the weight of centuries that settled on his thin frame now that he didn't have to constantly worry about what Heaven or Hell might do to him or to Aziraphale. He just wanted to rest. He was getting restless and irritable and he hated it. He hated it, because he ended up in stupid arguments with Aziraphale and seeing the angel sad or angry made him feel miserable.
Crowley entered the small flat above the bookshop he now shared with Aziraphale. He moved in with Aziraphale a few months ago, and while he was happy to be around Aziraphale, cohabitation wasn't always easy. The flat was a mess. It had always been a bit cluttered and dusty, just like the shop downstairs, but it used not to bother him. probably because he never stayed long enough to actually be bothered. He used to go back to his own flat every day, where everything was neatly in place, free of dust, clean and tidy. It could feel a bit lifeless sometimes, a bit too empty. But it reassured Crowley. He felt like he had enough space to breath, to move freely. Cleaning the human way also used to be something he did when he felt anxious or nervous. A repetitive task that didn't require any concentration.
Aziraphale's flat felt warm, it felt loved and lived in, but there were too many things lying around. Piles of books on every available surface, even on the floor. Fluffy blankets abandoned on the couch. Dirty plates and teacups on the coffee table. And that was only the living room. Crowley tugged on his hair as he turned around, slowly, taking it all in. It all felt too crowded, too much information, too many things surrounding him. Objects of various shapes and colours and textures, all glaring at him as he glared back at them. He let himself fall on the couch, all his weight hitting the cushion and a small cloud of dust rose around him. Crowley felt miserable and Aziraphale wasn't there to make him feel better.
Aziraphale was never there these days.
Aziraphale got bored of him, already. Crowley always knew this would happen, but he had hoped it would take more time. Hope was a vicious thing; Crowley should have known better than to let it take root in his heart. Now it had infested his soul like some emotional weed, and he knew it would be painful to get rid of it. He felt the sting of tears gathering in his serpentine eyes, the familiar tingling of his fingertips, the tightening of his chest. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. No wonder Aziraphale preferred spending his time with some humans than with a pitiful demon like him. Anger boiled in his veins, not against Aziraphale but himself. He was a demon; demons weren't meant to become overly emotional for such ridiculous things, demons weren't supposed to feel love or want to feel loved, demons weren't supposed to be happy. Demons didn't deserve happiness, they had lost to right to seek it long ago.
Demons were meant to be lonely, bitter, hateful. Forever unloved. Crowley was no different. He was unforgivable.
Crowley tugged on his copper curls that now reached his shoulders, wincing at the pain. It was what he deserved. He had been stupid to think he could get anything else than suffering.
"Stupid. Stupid demon, stupid, ugly demon!" Crowley screamed between clenched teeth. He tugged on his hair, scraping his scalp, tearing strands of hair out in the process.
He had no right to expect Aziraphale to spend time with him. He had no right to expect Aziraphale to give him his affection, his attention. He had no right to expect anything good.
But… Was it too much to ask for honesty? If Aziraphale finally realised that Crowley was a wretched, unlovable thing, couldn't he at least tell it to Crowley?
"No!" Crowley shouted, "you don't deserve anything. Nothing. Nothing at all. Filthy demon!" he cried, dragging bloodied fingernails on his cheeks.
Crowley heard the front door open and buried his face in his hands.
"Hello darling," Aziraphale greeted in a cheerful tone, "I'm sorry I came back so late."
He entered the living room only to find Crowley with his head in his hands, hair tightly gripped by shaky fingers, his whole body looking stiff.
"Crowley, are you alright? What happened my dear?"
He approached, reaching out to touch Crowley's shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" Crowley roared, his head snapping up.
Aziraphale gasped as he saw the streaks of blood and tears smeared on Crowley's cheeks. "What happened? Crowley, my dear, my love. How did that happen?" He kneeled beside Crowley, hands hovering above his knees without daring to touch him.
"You don't love me," Crowley said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.
"What? How can you say that?" Aziraphale stared at Crowley with a disbelieving expression. "After all this time, how can you say I don't love you? How can you even believe that?"
"Don't play dumb, Aziraphale. Don't lie to me," Crowley murmured, voice low and threatening as he glared at Aziraphale with unblinking eyes.
Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, silently begging him to come to his senses. He didn't recognise the demon he loved so dearly, didn't see the warmth and love his eyes normally contained when they landed on him. Instead, there was only rage, hatred, betrayal and hurt. And it made Aziraphale's heart ache to see his love in such a state, even more so at the thought that he had done something to cause his emotional distress.
"I'm not- I didn't-" Aziraphale stammered.
He was violently pulled up by Crowley's strong arms, the demon burying his face in Aziraphale's soft chest. "Crowley, my love," Aziraphale began. He was about to gently pet Crowley's head when he was pushed away.
"Don't call me that!" Crowley stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Aziraphale, "Don't call me your love when you've got his smell all over you!"
"His smell? Whose-" Aziraphale's eyes widened with understanding. "Daniel," he murmured. "Crowley, you can't be serious? Are you jealous of him? He's a human!"
"You spend all your time with him. You always come home late with his smell all over you. And you want me not to be jealous? I'm not stupid, angel!"
"You're not stupid, but you don't understand anything!" Aziraphale could feel anger flood through his veins. He knew, deep down, that he should stay calm, try to be the reasonable one and not let this terrible situation escalate, but he couldn't help himself.
Crowley chuckled darkly. "I don't understand anything. That's what you think, eh, angel. You think I don't see how you always look happy when you come home after spending your whole day with him? Think I don't see that little smile on your lips when you're checking your phone? That I don't know why you barely have any time for me, why we haven't made love in weeks?" Crowley walked towards Aziraphale, who took a step backward only to feel the cold wall against his back. "You don't need a filthy demon to fuck you anymore, now that you have a new human toy to satisfy your needs, right angel?"
Aziraphale's blue eyes filled with tears. He bit on his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, in a desperate attempt to keep the sobs from spilling out of his mouth. "How can you say such a thing?" Aziraphale's voice cracked and just like that, all rational thought of staying calm faded from his brain. "How can you even think I could cheat on you! Daniel is just a friend. He's a friend and I enjoy spending time with him!" Aziraphale pushed Crowley away. He didn't apply too much pressure, but it still sent the demon stumbling backward. "Why don't you trust me? Why can't you trust me when I say that I love you?"
"Shut up!" Crowley screamed. "Don't you dare talk about trust when you're the one who spends all his time with someone else without ever talking about it to me!" He grabbed one of the small potted plants he had brought from his place and threw it across the room to crash against the wall. It landed on the floor in a pile of shattered ceramic, damp soil and broken leaves.
Aziraphale flinched at the sound the poor plant made when it crashed, unable to tear his eyes away from the mess it left on the floor. "Maybe I would have talked to you about Daniel if you weren't so jealous and possessive!"
Aziraphale regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. He saw Crowley's face crumble in an expression of pure despair.
"Shut up. Just shut up, please." Crowley sank to the floor, huddled up in a tight ball of shivering limbs. "You don't love me. Because I'm a filthy, stupid, possessive demon. I don't deserve your love." Crowley went back to clawing at his skin, drawing more blood from his already damaged face. "Bad demon. Only make you suffer, make you cry, make you hate me."
Aziraphale gave up trying to keep the tears from falling. Crowley was the most precious person in his life and now he was on the floor, covered in tears and blood. Crowley believed that Aziraphale didn't love him. That was all Aziraphale's fault; he hadn't been there enough, hadn't made sure Crowley knew how loved he was. And now Crowley's heart was broken and it shattered Aziraphale's heart too. Because Crowley was amazing. Crowley was kind and clever and beautiful. He deserved to be happy, and Aziraphale had failed to bring him joy.
The angel fell to the floor, crawling toward Crowley. His vision was blurry with tears, the ringing and pulsing in his ears drowning any other sound. His arms wrapped around Crowley's shaking form and he held his beloved tightly.
"I'm sorry. I love you, please, forgive me. Forgive me my love."
"Aziraphale," Crowley sobbed, turning in Aziraphale's arms to bury his face in the crook of his neck.
"Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, "my Crowley. My love, my everything. Let me take care of you, please."
Crowley simply nodded, feeling exhausted by his outburst. Despite everything, Aziraphale's arms felt warm and safe, and he could already feel his breathing easing out as thick fingers ran through his messy red hair. Crowley felt the soothing pressure of Aziraphale's plump lips on his face, kissing the angry wounds away with his love. It felt good, the light tingling sensation all over his face, the warmth, the love. Aziraphale kissed the wounds on his face away and he whispered kind words in Crowley's ear to sooth the wounds of his heart. Those ones would take more time, more work, to heal properly, though. But Aziraphale made them hurt less, and at the moment, it was all that mattered to Crowley.
They sat together, under one of their warm blankets. Aziraphale sipped on his steaming mug of tea, while Crowley blew on his warm coffee. It felt almost like a normal evening. The silence was heavy between them, like an impassable wall that both of them were too scared to climb. Aziraphale knew he owed Crowley an explanation, he was only trying to find the right words.
"Daniel," Aziraphale began, after taking a deep breath, "Daniel is a friend. He came to the shop once, that's how we met."
Crowley's eyes stayed glued to the black liquid in his cup, which was too hot against the sensitive skin of his finger. Crowley didn't care, though.
"He's a very bright young man, you know. I think you would like him." Aziraphale took a sip from his tea in an attempt to steal some time. He needed a moment to gather his scattered thoughts into an intelligible explanation. It was harder than it should be. Probably. "He was so sad, so lonely. I invited him for tea, and his face positively lit up. He got help after that, started seeing a therapist. But we continued spending a lot of time together, because we enjoyed each other's company. I wanted to help him, support him." Aziraphale took a shaky breath, running his hands in his messy white-blond curls. "I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't- I hadn't realised I was leaving you aside. I never meant to make you feel this way, my precious demon."
"So, there was never…" Crowley turned his head toward Aziraphale, his unhidden eyes still filled with hurt and uncertainty, "there was never anything else between the two of you?"
"Of course not! How many times do I have to tell you: you're the only one I love this way."
"Alright, alright!" Crowley held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, I believe you angel."
"Thank you, darling," Aziraphale said, pressing a gentle kiss on Crowley's forehead. "It doesn't change the fact that I've been neglecting you, though. I want to make it up to you."
Crowley smiled, a small, tentative smile. It was barely there, but it still lit the whole room with its sheer honesty. Aziraphale had missed that smile. He hadn't realised it until he thought he would never be lucky enough to see it ever again. It was only then that Aziraphale realised that Crowley hadn't been smiling, really smiling, for weeks. He had taken their relationship for granted, hadn't been paying enough attention to Crowley, and it had nearly ruined everything. Everything good in Aziraphale's life was thanks to Crowley, without the demon, he was only a miserable angel. He had told Crowley that he was his everything, and that hasn't been an exaggeration; Crowley was everything to him, he was the only thing that gave him the motivation to get up in the morning, the only thing that brought joy to his lonely heart, the only thing that made his life worth living. And Aziraphale had almost lost him. The thought alone made him feel sick, just the possibility of losing Crowley, of being the cause of his sadness, it broke his heart and made his stomach turn. Now he had a chance to make things better, and he wouldn't waste it.
"You have anything in mind?" Crowley asked, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Aziraphale smiled in return, squeezing one of Crowley's thin hands in his. "I was thinking, maybe we could take a little trip together, just you and me. I remember you mentioned going to the stars, one day. But it's up to you, really. We'll go wherever you want."
Crowley already knew where he wanted to go. He wanted to go there since the stars were created, but he never got the occasion. And he didn't want to go alone. "Wanna go to Alpha Centauri. Always wanted to go with you. We could visit Proxima Centauri b, I think it would be wonderful; imagine, angel, three suns in the sky." Crowley loved the stars, always had, and Aziraphale always listened with rapt attention. He never asked Crowley to shut up or looked uninterested. On the contrary, he looked eager to find out more bout Crowley's passion and Crowley loved him even more for that.
Aziraphale kissed Crowley's lips, gently, softly. It was full of the purest kind of love. "That sounds beautiful, darling. I can't wait to discover new worlds with you."