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He has gone soft. Of course he wouldn’t admit it.
Obviously.
Crowley looked at the ceiling and sighed. It’d been two years since Aziraphale was finally back for good. They worked together in preventing the Second Coming; the angel really did have a plan at least. Even though Crowley was an optimist at heart he didn’t think they could make it. Well, until he saw the look of pure determination on Aziraphale’s face.
Everything was going to be okay.
And it was.
****
Shortly after the world was saved once again Aziraphale returned to the book shop. Muriel was an emotional mess. They were happy this obscure place and all its inhabitants were safe; they were devastated they needed to go back to heaven. Was it even possible to go back? Was there something to go back to? Aziraphale put his hand on their shoulder, thanked them for all the help and asked if it was possible they helped in the book shop just a little bit longer. Muriel bawled their eyes out for three days straight.
Crowley was happy for them; he really was. Of course, he wouldn’t admit that either. But now he lost something like a home once again. Aziraphale tried to talk to him, convince him it would be okay to stay but Crowley just snarled and told him to bugger off. Or rather he would bugger off. There was nothing left to say between them, his heart was broken one too many times and it couldn’t take another blow. But he agreed to stay in the area for Muriel’s sake, for the time being anyway. Until they were comfortable enough with all the human stuff.
In the following year Aziraphale and him grew closer again. It wasn’t like before since the wound was still too fresh, but it was a starting point. They talked again, were more relaxed, bickered even. Muriel was pleased when they cleaned out empty bottles of wine and scotch. But Crowley was never there in the morning.
****
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked while the demon tried to make Muriel understand what was so hilarious about coins glued to the pavement or any other surface.
“What’s up, Aziraphale?” He didn’t call him angel anymore. Sometimes it almost slipped but they weren’t close enough anymore for such endearments.
“Well, ah I was thinking of you. Not you! Well, yes you but in an accommodation sense!” Heavens, he was nervous, and his fingers were all over the place, twitching and pinching invisible things.
Crowley’s eyebrow met his hairline, but he didn’t say anything; it was Aziraphale’s turn to make a fool of himself.
Muriel didn’t say anything either but watched Aziraphale with huge eyes, eager und curious where this was going.
“Hrrm I-I thought, maybe – when there is no better place- you… canstayhere” The angel looked everywhere, his shoes, out of the window, just not at Crowley. He took his time, kept his cool. On the surface at least. “Huh, so you’re kicking Inspector Constable out? Where’s our precious IC going to live?” It made Crowley a bit proud, staying so calm and collected.
“I have to go?!”
“It’s fine, you’re not going anywhere nugget ” he reassured Muriel and patted their shoulder convincingly.
“No, of course Muriel can stay if they wish. But-“
“But then you don’t have enough room. It’s alright, ang- Aziraphale, Bentley’s fine with how things are.”
“I-I have another room in the back of the shop.” Aziraphale took a deep breath, this shouldn’t be so hard.
“The backroom for your most precious tomes?” Crowley never went there. It was not forbidden per se, but it felt like sacred ground.
“It’s a bedroom now.” His voice sounded small, not brave in any way or form. Not like before when he commanded angels. But that wasn’t him anymore. He was back to not-selling-books, fine dining, kind gestures to his neighbours and sometimes a dash of bastard sprinkled on top.
“What happened to your books?” Crowley’s mouth felt dry.
“I made the room a bit bigger so your bed and some plants would fit comfortably there. I don’t know about the proper light, but I assume you are the expert.”
That didn’t answer the book question, but Crowley felt his knees going weak. He should refuse this offer, he really, really should. But his an- Aziraphale made room for him. Only for him. This would hurt so much later on. No, it wouldn’t, he wouldn’t let it. Just a room to sleep in at a friend’s house. The Bentley would honk gleefully if he told her he had a new place to sleep at night and the plants would like it too.
Not that he cared about what the plants liked but they could only grow so much better when stacked together uncomfortably.
Crowley cleared his throat “’ll think about it.”
“Hooray! Mr. Crowley lives with us!”
“Easy there, Inspector Constable. Gotta go, see you around.” With that Crowley left. Just quickly enough for none of them to talk to him. He needed a moment for himself, or two or three. The demon climbed into the Bentley and drove just outside London where he parked next to a meadow and took a deep breath. He didn’t need to breathe or to sleep. But sleeping was enjoyable, and breathing helped blending in with humans and he was very much used to it after a couple thousand years.
“He has a room. For me. A bedroom in his bookshop.” He almost whispered and Bentley started playing Funny how love is. Crowley huffed “Will you cut it out?!”
The car changed swiftly to Scandal as if to ask sarcastically “better?”
Crowley snarled “Very funny.” But left it at that. He really didn’t need an argument with her right now when he already was emotionally worked up. What did he have to lose? Nothing, really. So why not accept the angels offer? He could also rip his own heart out, lay it on the table for Aziraphale to put in the trash or whatever he liked. Okay, that went bitter. He sat up, straightened his lapels and took another deep breath. “Let’s go back, you’ve been a bedroom for my sorry arse long enough.” And just as predicted the Bentley honked gleefully and made its way back to London, parking in the mysterious free spot in front of the book shop and even opening the door for her owner. That elicited a small smile from him, and he stroked the steering wheel fondly for a second.
He got out of the car and entered the book shop with a box full of plants. Wearing faux confidence up his sleeves he turned to Aziraphale. “Where’s my bedroom?”
****
That was a year ago and now Crowley lay in his bed in his room in not-his bookshop and stared at the ceiling. The bed was smaller than the one in his old apartment, just a queen size but just as comfy. Bed sheet made of Egyptian cotton, duvet and pillowcase made of silk. Only the bed sheet prevented him from slipping all over the place with his satin pyjamas. He looked at the plants - they grew just fine but he wouldn’t tell them. It was awkward in the beginning, well, still is, sharing a room with them. They always had their own room and never watched him sleep, he feared a bit for his authority but no can do.
A cottage by the sea with a big garden, a conservatory and at least one green house would be perfect. With one or two rooms big enough to fit a library. There would never be a room big enough for that, but it was the thought that counted.
One could dream.
But for now, he got up , left the room and wanted to make his way upstairs to the bathroom. To make himself presentable, he needed to pass through the book shop and couldn’t care less about startled customers when they saw a lanky man in pyjamas and sunglasses slinking his way through the store. They all knew about the housing crisis. Or so.
“Good morning, Mr. Crowley!” Muriel beamed.
“How many times have I told you to cut out the mister?”
“Ah yes, I’m sorry…” they looked at the floor distressed. Crowley squeezed her shoulder. “No harm done, nugget…”
“Thank you!” there they were, happy again. “You’re up early today, is everything alright?”
It was just a little past 10 am.
“Huh, yeah, I guess, just couldn’t sleep properly tonight.”
“Oh Crowley, good to see you!” Ah, there was his other beaming angel. Would he ever be immune to that face, that smile? Probably not.
“Whazzup?”
“I thought we could go for breakfast at Nina’s. Well, six shots of espresso for you but she has the most amazing pastry! Nina just changed her supplier, and I haven’t yet sampled all of it, but it is just so good, you should have a taste too. I am sure you would like some of it.”
Crowley couldn’t suppress the faintest smile on his face but slowly nodded. “Sure Aziraphale, just let me get ready, then we three can go.”
The sight of two beaming angels put him at risk of losing his eyesight despite his sunglasses. For now, he went upstairs in the bathroom to get dressed for the day .
When he came back, dressed as usual in too tight black pants, turtleneck and that silver scarf that really served no purpose despite completing the look, he didn’t see Muriel.
“Where are they?”
“Oh, Muriel wants to read another book about birds or so, they are so engrossed in it, and I don’t want to disturb them.”
Crowley shrugged. Fine by him. It wasn’t the first time in two years that Aziraphale and him went out alone. They were rather frequently dining elsewhere. They just didn’t go to the Ritz.
They both stepped outside the bookstore and Aziraphale paused. “There is something I want to do.” He looked directly at Crowley. The demon was puzzled. “Do it then?”
Aziraphale didn’t break the eye contact and grabbed Crowley’s hand. Tender enough for him to immediately pull away, but Crowley didn’t. He looked at their hands flabbergasted. “Is this alright my dear?” Aziraphale asked quietly.
Crowley swallowed. This should feel wrong. This should feel bad. There should be warning signs popping up everywhere. But nothing happened. Just a warmth coming from Aziraphale’s hand that warmed him to his heart. He was glad for his sunglasses in this moment. A slow nod, a quiet answer “Yes, angel.”
Crowley swallowed again. This was good. This was nice. No warning signs just Nina’s place over the street. They would stop holding hands there and by someone he wasn’t ready for that.
“Wecouldgotostjamespark” Crowley blurted out. Aziraphale smiled fondly. “That is a really good idea, we have not seen the ducks in a while. Shall we stop at Tesco’s to buy some frozen peas for them?”
Crowley didn’t trust his voice not to break, so he only nodded. The angel’s smile did not falter. “Let’s get a wriggle on then.”
He intertwined their fingers.