When Aziraphale grabbed Crowley in the dark alley, out of nowhere, Crowley was shocked to see him. He didn’t know Aziraphale appeared. He quickly figured out that he was long enough in Heaven for it to change his smell, no longer surrounded by everything he loved. No old books, no food, no cherry. Everything that smelt like home to Crowley. Aziraphale was home.
Aziraphale looked like he was panicking, ready to tell him something, hands holding Crowley’s arms tightly. But he froze and stared and Crowley felt like he was taking his face in. Like he missed him.
Don’t even go there, Crowley.
“Please listen to me.” Aziraphale finally choked out. “You need to hide. They’re coming for you. I’ve just found out!” He looked around worrying they were already here.
Crowley assumed he meant angels. Lovely.
“Where?” Hide where? In his car? He had no home. Aziraphale took it away when he left.
Aziraphale seemed to have an answer ready, but a thunderstorm made them cover their ears. They both looked to the right and saw Metatron with his Archangels behind.
“I’ve said he can’t be trusted.” Michael spit out.
Crowley hissed, ready to stand in front of Aziraphale. But the Angel stepped forward, clearly shielding him instead. Crowley looked at him surprised. What was he doing?
“You can just call this off and nothing has to happen.” Aziraphale said simply, but Crowley knew this was how a threat sounded from Aziraphale’s mouth.
“Move, Aziraphale, let us take the demon, and we will pretend you never came here to warn him.” Metatron said.
Crowley tensed. Aziraphale was not going to give up his title for him. And Crowley would struggle to fight so many archangels. He was fucked.
“No.” Aziraphale spit out.
“Aziraphale, I will remove your titles if you do not move this instant!”
Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow. “Are you?”
Before Crowley could laugh, he felt a hand reaching and grabbing his wrist and suddenly they were both gone.
This was the day he got introduced to the cottage. Aziraphale’s cottage. One he bought for them, apparently, and worked to make their embassy. So literally nobody could come in without both of their permission. Especially not demons and angels. Well, Crowley had to help with the angels part, but he didn’t need convincing.
As grand of a gesture this seemed, Crowley did not feel comfortable. They barely talked. He disappeared to whichever room Aziraphale wasn’t in to avoid them talking.
He knew that if he would start then he’d never stop and he’d be falling for Aziraphale all over again. And then Aziraphale would decide that actually the cottage was a mistake and give him to demons.
Crowley could not risk another knife to the heart.
One day they were sat together in the living room, only a quiet radio on, Crowley sprawled on the big armchair comfortably, Aziraphale on a sofa reading a book. Together for the first time. Not talking. Listening to the music and rain outside. As far away as possible from each other.
When nightingale came on the radio, Crowley felt the knife twisting in his heart again. He did not dare to switch the station or look at Aziraphale. He was planning to pretend he wasn’t hearing it.
He did not notice Aziraphale standing up and slowly moving towards him, Crowley too busy staring at a wall.
He looked up surprised when Aziraphale touched his arm.
“I was wrong,” he whispered.
Crowley felt himself tensing. He was going to give him to the angels. He knew. He knew it was going to happen.
“You were right,” Aziraphale added and Crowley noticed how tired and guilty his face looked. He’s never seen him this… sad. “Please dance with me?” Aziraphale extended his hand, eyes pleading for him to take it.
Crowley kept on staring at him in shock but Aziraphale did not move, bravely standing still.
Crowley didn’t realise when he took his hand. But he was suddenly standing and their hands were together, and they continued their dance from the ball, but slower… and not interrupted.
In silence, but for nightingales on the radio.
Crowley didn’t expect Aziraphale to come closer, warm cheek to his cold one, and whisper in his ear.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Crowley did not know what to do. This was what Aziraphale did. Forgave Crowley. Forgave him for who he was. Like a stab in the heart each time he didn’t agree with the Angel. And this time Aziraphale was handing him the knife. Asking him to do the same to him.
Crowley looked at him wanting to say no. No matter what Aziraphale did to him, he’d never do the same to him. Not when he knew how much it hurt.
But Aziraphale had a pleading look on his face. The determination that Crowley knew so well. Knowing nothing else would be enough. And Crowley realised that the Angel would not feel the twist of a knife but a relief.
“I forgive you.” Crowley said quietly and it felt new and weird on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he meant it. He said it because Aziraphale wanted to hear it. He gave him what he wanted. Like always.
He expected Aziraphale to smile brightly and move on. But he kept on looking at him searching for something in his face. Not eyes, these were always covered now.
“One day,” Aziraphale whispered. “You will feel it. Because I will do everything to prove to you that I deserve your forgiveness. And your love. If there is even the tiniest space for it in your heart still. I promise. I love you, Crowley.”
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