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It had been a regular night. That is to say, Crowley was driving well over the speed limit in London after a rather fancy dinner with Aziraphale. Aziraphale, all things considered, was being a good sport about this. Dinner had gone wonderfully, the wine was delicious and the dessert was somehow even more decadent. The night was only going to get better, he thought.
Tonight, afterall, he was planning to confess to Crowley. Tonight, he was going to ask Crowley to stay overnight, pour him a glass of something fancy, and lay it all out on the table. It was even beginning to rain! Azira thought about how his beloved seemed to adore rain accompanied confessionals. Tonight was going to be perfect.
Or, at least, that was the plan. Crowley was reaching to turn the volume of the radio down when Aziraphale gasped.
“Crowley! Did you see that? Oh dear, please pull over. The car in front of us just hit something!” Aziraphale said, voice shaking as his eyes locked onto the animal now in the road.
Crowley decided it best to not argue with the angel, signaling that he was pulling to the side of the road. He had barely put his precious car into park when Aziraphale unbuckled and rushed out. The traffic was thick, someone nearly clipped the back of the Bentley while staring at Aziraphale’s hunched-over body on the side of the road.
“Keep driving, idiot! Hit my car and you’re going to wish that y-” Crowley began to yell, moving his gaze from the horrific driver to his angel, and stopped mid-sentence when he realized Aziraphale was crying.
And, of course, the rain that was just a mist began to turn into a steady shower.
“Angel, you need to get back into the car. S’going to start getting too dangerous to drive, even for me,” Crowley said in as calm of a voice as he could manage.
“The poor thing is dying Crowley! I can’t have it here alone, I wouldn’t want to die alone if I was a small creature.”
Aziraphale had already attempted to heal the small animal with no luck. He was on probation, you see, after ditching his role of Supreme Archangel. Heaven, or rather the entities other than God, were angry with him. This led to Michael and Uriel agreeing to revoke Aziraphale’s status and, therefore, certain ‘magical’ powers that he had. In this case, healing was not permitted. Along with many of the frivolous miracles he enjoyed performing. This would explain why Crowley had to miracle an empty table at a rather exclusive restaurant for tonight rather than Aziraphale.
In any case, Aziraphale cannot save the animal that he is cradling in his arms on the side of a very busy road.
No one comes to their side, no one else pulls off to see what the fuss is about. It was just Aziraphale, who was crying, and Crowley, who had given up on attempting to persuade Azira to just get inside the car.
This is, Crowley decided, one of the strangest moments to begin to analyze his dearest and oldest friend closer. After thousands of years of being by Aziraphale’s side, or close nearby, this is one of the few times that he had studied the angel in a moment of such despair. He noticed both the rain and Azira’s tears falling down his face. He noticed the blood that would begin to stain the front of the perfectly cream colored outfit. He noticed how gently Aziraphale cradled the creature, who had begun to breathe slower.
In the back of his mind, Crowley decided that if he were to, somehow, die someday, he would want Aziraphale to be the one holding him, too.
“You deserved so much better than this, dear. I hope you find peace after death,” Aziraphale whispered, so quiet that Crowley could barely catch the words as they slipped out.
Crowley, despite himself, rested a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. He stood from kneeling beside the angel and walked further off the side of the road. He found a small area of dirt and grass. With a snap, the ground became a hole for the creature. A proper burial. He returned soon after to sit beside Aziraphale.
“There is a small grave ready for it, angel. Whenever you are ready,” Crowley said in the softest tone he could muster.
“Oh Crowley, that is.. Well, that is very nice of you. Thank you,” Aziraphale replied.
He looked at Crowley and, for some inexplicable reason, this was the moment that Crowley realized how deeply he adored Aziraphale. He hadn’t even been able to protest that he is, in fact, not nice before getting lost in his own thoughts.
Crowley had processed several hundreds of years ago that he might harbor some sort of emotion for Aziraphale besides the normal adoration one may have for a friend. This was something that he never thought too much into, though, since he was a demon and demons were not meant to feel that sort of emotion, especially not for an angel. It took until Nina asked the duo were dating for Crowley to even consider a possibility where Aziraphale felt the same way he felt. After all, as previously mentioned, Crowley was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel. Crowley assumed that there was no way in Hell that Aziraphale could ever return those feelings.
Crowley still wasn’t entirely sure if Aziraphale did when he kissed him. He hoped, he really did. But then Azira left for Heaven.
All of this to say, Crowley had forgotten just how smitten he was with the angel beside him.
Aziraphale was good. He just was. Sure he made shitty choices every now and then, but he made these choices with the belief that he was doing the good and right thing. Even if he wasn’t. While this had come back to hurt both of them many times, there was something charming about the way Aziraphale still believed the best in everyone until proven to believe otherwise.
Aziraphale smiled sadly at Crowley before returning his gaze to the creature. At this moment, Crowley and Aziraphale both watched as it took its final breath. Each of these ethereal and occult entities have witnessed death before. They had each been the cause of it, whether that be purposeful or for the greater good of humanity. But there was something about this moment, this specific creature at this specific part of the world.
Later, neither of them would be able to explain why despite both agreeing that they had felt this themselves.
“I think… it’s gone now. Shall we bury it?” Aziraphale asked.
Crowley nodded, standing from the rather wet pavement and extending a hand down to Aziraphale. The angel took it, allowing himself to be supported as he stood, too. The two walked to the small grave that Crowley made. Aziraphale gently laid the animal down. Crowley could hear faint whispers coming from his mouth, but could not make out any of the words.
“Let me know when it's ready and I’ll cover the grave,” Crowley said.
To his shock, Aziraphale shook his head and turned to face Crowley.
“Allow me to cover it myself, please. I can’t explain it, but I just feel like I need to do it by hand. That sounds silly..” Aziraphale sighed and began to ramble on.
Crowley, hoping to stop Aziraphale’s mind from racing, walked closer to the grave and began pushing dirt into the hole.
“Oh! Thank you, Crowley. Sincerely,” Aziraphale said, voice full of adoration.
The two worked in silence for a few moments, covering the creature with the dirt. Afterwards, the two would stand and look at the grave for a bit longer. Aziraphale would be the first to walk away, much to Crowley’s surprise, leaving Crowley alone in front of the small grave.
“Rest easy now. For what it’s worth, you died in the arms of an angel, quite literally, I think there was no one else that would have taken better care of you. Have a wonderful afterlife,” Crowley said, attempting a gentle send off.
He turned away and followed after Aziraphale, who was already sitting on his side of the Bentley. Crowley joined him, the rain finally settling.
“I’m sorry I made you pull over. That was quite dangerous of me to ask, since we could have gotten hit or.. Well, anyway. Thank you for allowing me to accompany that creature to its death. I apologize for inconveniencing you. Perhaps you should just drop me off and head back to your home,” Aziraphale rambled.
“Angel, s’okay. I don’t mind. No need to apologize. We are both okay, yeah? Everything is alright. Don’t worry,” Crowley said as he started the engine, “I can bring you back to the bookshop. I was going to ask if you’d indulge in a few glasses of wine before I headed out, before all of this. We could always do that on another day.”
Aziraphale kept his eyes trained out the window, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill once more.
“If you’d like to, you are more than welcome to stay. I’m sorry, dear. I’m such a mess now. This was one of my favorite outfits. I feel so bad for that poor creature. I simply have too much on my mind right now.”
Barely a second passes before Crowley miracled the clothes to be spotless once more, his focus not flickering from the road. Aziraphale noticed this at the same moment he realized that Crowley was driving at exactly the speed limit. This meant a lot to Aziraphale, which may sound silly to someone who is not Aziraphale nor Crowley.
Aziraphale understood that this meant Crowley could sense how deep his pain was running at the moment, to the point where Crowley was willing to take it slow for the angel.
On the other hand, Crowley understood how something as simple as driving the proper speed limit while Aziraphale is in distress could lessen the things he could be stressed about.
This is something that they both understood about one another.
Aziraphale, despite the trauma that he had just experienced, decided in that moment that tonight was still the night he would confess. If anything, this situation proved even further to him that he loved Crowley and knew that Crowley must still love him.
Even after the pain that he made Crowley endure from leaving.
The Bentley pulled into its regular spot in front of the bookshop and Crowley wasted no time running out of the car and to the door. Aziraphale was soon after, the rain picking up once more. They made eye contact as Aziraphale searched his pockets for his key to the door. He hadn’t even noticed that Crowley had removed the dark shades that he typically wears while outside. It was getting rather dark, he supposed, and the rain would most likely make it difficult to see.
Yet, Aziraphale found himself quickly forgetting his train of thought when Crowley took another step toward him.
“Angel,” Crowley started.
Aziraphale found the key in his pocket and turned from Crowley to unlock the door. He swung the door open and gestured for Crowley to walk in.
“Angel,” Crowley said again, his voice carrying a deeper quality than Aziraphale was used to.
This, dearest reader, was the moment that Aziraphale and Crowley each knew what was about to happen. The rain overhead, the tension in the air, the look of complete and utter devotion that was clear on Crowley’s face.
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes again.
Aziraphale never fancied himself as much of a crier as he was tonight. But those were tears in Crowley’s eyes, too, he realized.
And that was love he could sense. It radiated from him, from Crowley, from the bookshelf. It felt as though he could drown in the love that surrounded him at this moment.
Aziraphale didn’t waste another moment before he took his own step toward Crowley and, before he could overthink his actions, kissed him.
This was, decidedly, nothing like the last, and first, time they had kissed. That one had been rushed, meant to signify a last ditch effort of Crowley trying to convince Aziraphale to not leave him behind. To not return to Heaven.
No, this was wholly different.
Crowley was the first to pull away and Aziraphale, now understanding with his entire being how it felt to be cherished and loved and adored, attempted to follow for another.
“C’mon angel. We should go inside,” Crowley said, his voice calmer than Aziraphale had ever heard it before.
Aziraphale was in no condition to argue and followed his demon into the bookshop, watching as Crowley relocked the doors. He followed to the kitchen, where the wine was being stored. He took a glass when it was handed to him. This feeling, Aziraphale told himself, is better than any food, any drink, any show, any book. This… love that is overwhelming his senses. He watched Crowley practically glide around his home. As if he has always lived here. Aziraphale realized that he now saw Crowley in a new perspective.
“Love. Crowley you are surrounded with love. It’s enchanting,” Aziraphale found himself saying.
Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, who was sitting on a couch in a living area in his flat above the bookshelf.
“Am I?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale nodded excitedly, his eyes full of wonder as Crowley sat beside him on the couch.
“I have never seen this before, at least not around you. What changed?”
Crowley rested an arm over the back of the couch, not breaking eye contact with Aziraphale.
“Do you love me, Aziraphale?”
“What?”
“Do you love me?” Crowley asked again.
“I.. Well, I suppose I do,” Aziraphale managed to say, his voice quiet and shaky.
“And I love you, too, angel. That’s what you’re seeing, I ’spose. Don’t have to hide it now.”
Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a few beats, feeling his face growing several degrees warmer.
“How.. Is.. I can’t even speak! How long have you carried this much love for me?” Aziraphale asked.
“A long, long time. Much earlier than when you left. I’d argue since I saw you in Eden, at least a bit then.”
Aziraphale gaped at Crowley, the weight of the words not lost on the angel.
“I am very sorry for how horrible I must have made you feel when I left. I love you, I truly do. I’ve known since.. Well, since 1941. I’m just not as afraid to accept it now.”
Crowley smiled at Aziraphale and pressed a gentle kiss to the soft light blond curls.
The weight of the last hour seemed to fall off of Aziraphale’s shoulders at the simple action. In fact, Aziraphale could feel the weight of the last hundred years disappear, too.
The two spent the rest of the evening and much of the night talking about nothing of significance. Their arms were wrapped around each other for the majority of it, though, and soft kisses were exchanged to wherever could be easily reached, whether that be lips, foreheads, or shoulders.
At the same time, back on the side of that road, a flower had begun to grow above the grave of the animal.