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Crowley didn’t trust him. He didn’t think Aziraphale did either. But there was Metatron, holding out a blue coffee cup, demanding (in a lovely little manipulative tone) that Aziraphale was to drink the beverage. Aziraphale shot a look back at Crowley, and he shuffled in the seat he was slouched in.
“He doesn’t like coffee,” Crowley sniffed, leg bouncing atop the armrest of the chair, “Well, I don’t suppose one drink will hurt.” Metatron gave Crowley a menacing glare, and he growled under his breath; pushing himself to his feet and striding over.
Before Aziraphale could interject, Crowley was in Metatron’s face, “I don’t trust you,” he said bluntly, before yanking the coffee out from his hands and popping the lid off. “This reeks of Heaven. What did you do to it?” Crowley had said what Aziraphale was thinking and thank someone for that because he was pretty worried that the angel would actually consider taking the drink.
Metatron seemed to stumble over words to explain, make an excuse up perhaps. Crowley didn’t care because as Aziraphale reached over to take the drink; probably to toss it out somewhere, he’d poured the whole thing in his mouth and swallowed.
“Crowley! No, no, no!” Aziraphale caught the stumbling demon when he blinked a few times and tried to stay upright, “The last time you drank poison it was like being drugged!”
Metatron went red in the face with fury, “You demonic oaf! That wasn’t for you!”
Crowley merely smiled a dopey grin, teeth, and all, “I think coffee tastes better than he does. Better off in m’ stomach an’way.” He started to slur, and Aziraphale took hold of Crowley by the waist. “Oh dear,” the demon heard him mumble.
“Heaven will not forgive Aziraphale. Heaven does not forget.”
Aziraphale tensed, his mouth twitched as he held his drugged friend in his arms. “I rather think you should be more afraid of me not being so forgiving.”
“Yeah!” Crowley added in his two cents, and Aziraphale resisted the urge to giggle. “Now ‘s a time for you ta leave! I got thinks to say to the angel!” His words were slurring more now, and if he could fix it, he would have, but his brain was fogging up with something along the lines of pretty angel smell nice holding my waist. So, not much help in that department.
“You’ll regret this. The both of you will.” Metatron made himself scarce, and Aziraphale let out a breath of relief, “Now, let’s-”
“What just happened?” Muriel was still standing in the shop. Of course, Aziraphale had completely forgotten. “Oh uhm- bit of a tizzy with upstairs,” Aziraphale wanted to put Crowley down on the couch, but also didn’t want to let go of him. He rather liked the feeling of his hand around the demons waist.
“Would you mind dear, heading out and uhm- just taking a stroll around the streets to make sure there are no more angels or demons lurking around?” Aziraphale said softly, pulling a wobbly, mumbling demon closer to him as he did.
Muriel agreed, rushing out the door in an excited way a child would going to a park. That left Aziraphale with Crowley. Alone.
“Okay darling, let’s sit you down here.” Aziraphale gently placed Crowley on the sofa by the waist, and he reached out just as the angel went to pull away. “Your eyes are like stars, Angel. Always thought that.” The words had caught Aziraphale off guard, and his face flushed pink after a moment of processing.
Aziraphale seemed to be short for words to respond with, so Crowley spoke again, “C’n you sober me up so I don’t say something dumb? Kindah had a speech ‘n stuff.” He sniffed, and Aziraphale agreed, promptly snapping his fingers and ridding Crowley of the poison effect, though there was still a bit of spinning going on in his head.
“Better, thought I’d end up spilling that I love you or… something.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Crowley felt his face heat up. “Oh, I-I hadn’t meant to… I mean I had I was just… uhm,” Crowley stammered, face only growing redder as he did. Aziraphale was looking at him with those big, beautiful eyes of his, and Crowley wasn’t sure what to make of it. “I er- d’ya still want my speech?”
Aziraphale swallowed thickly, then nodded. In silence. Sure, okay yeah no that was fine. Aziraphale was a man of few words. Rarely, but at times. Well, Crowley had just let the whole reason for his speech slip, maybe he didn’t need it? Kinda felt like he needed it though. Felt important.
“Right,” Crowley started, “I uhm- well we’ve uhm- known each other for a long time, and I uh,” he fumbled, struggling to remember in the slightest what he was meant to be saying. How did humans do this so well? “Er- well, you see… I- you already know I guess… so I- what I wanted to say was uhm-”
“You were amazing Crowley. My knight in shining armour, as always.” Aziraphale interrupted, and Crowley felt his face heating up even more. He sort of hoped it wouldn’t get any hotter, he was starting to overheat. “Uhm- I well,” Crowley stammered softly, “Really?”
“Oh you silly serpent, of course.” Aziraphale suddenly had Crowley’s hands in his own and was very close to his face. Oh for someone’s sake, he could feel the angels body heat. “I rather think it deserves a reward.”
This wasn’t like the script in Crowley’s head, he was supposed to pour his feelings out and get option A or option B. Not… well, this.
“A-A reward?” Crowley squeaked, not really sure how to take the comment anywhere other than to the lovey dovey sappy part of his brain that he was trying to scare back into submission and shutting up. “Oh yes, I think… I should apologise to you.”
Crowley blinked, then again, then once more for good measure. He was confused. That little record in his head had halted to a stop, all thoughts ceasing. “What are you apologising for? That doesn’t- I don’t understand… I-”
An unintelligible noise left his mouth when Aziraphale stroked a finger over his hand. “A lot of things really; for dragging you into this mess, for leaving you alone with the shop and Gabriel with fear that he could destroy you, for… well for not seeing your love any sooner than now, when you were off your head on some Heavenly poison that I was sure would have negative effects, but it didn’t. Thank goodness for that.”
Crowley was short-circuiting, he couldn’t understand a lot, but he knew a confession when he saw one, at least; he thought he did. “Is this- Are you-?”
“I love you Crowley, I have for a long time. I knew it when you’d saved my books, and kept me safe with that magic trick, and did all those other wonderful things to protect me and woo me with your sudden kindness that just happened to have a reason or excuse for each time I was around. I love you with everything I have.”
Crowley could feel himself burning, if his hair wasn’t already smoking, it would be soon. Aziraphale had just- he’d gone and-
“Are you sure?” Crowley said softly, his hands twitching in the angels’. He didn’t want Aziraphale to regret this. He didn’t want pity confessions or- or something like this and then he disappears again. Not again. “Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale reached a hand up and cupped the demons face, a finger over his lower lip, “Can I kiss you darling?”
And so they did, and it was chaste and short and everything Crowley had ever wanted. Aziraphale had run his fingers up to the nape of Crowley’s neck, and he’d gripped onto the angels collar as if he might discorporate.
“Excuse me but I- oh,” A voice broke the two of them apart, and Crowley seemed to slink off into a corner. “Sorry, you’re working things out, carry on then.” Nina had popped in, Maggie behind her, and now they were leaving again. Maggie with a dumb grin on her face and Nina with that know-it-all twit look. Crowley felt like he knew he’d be teased for this later.
The door shut again, and Aziraphale snapped the lock on, then looked back at Crowley. Which would have been fine in normal circumstance, but Crowley looked like a mess in the moment. Dishevelled hair and burning face, and he was pretty sure his ears were smoking. “Crowley?”
“Nghmnm?” Crowley mumbled out a noise that Aziraphale could only understand, and darted his eyes over to the angel. “Perhaps we try that again, hm?”
Crowley smiled in the sappiest way he’d ever done, and dove over to Aziraphale, morphing them into one again. Arms wrapped tightly around one another as the words were repeated through kisses.
“I love you Angel,”
“I love you Crowley.”
And they lived. Happily. Ever. After. NOTHING ELSE.