I was going to do something completely different for this but then this little thing spilled out and tbh I like it much better. Enjoy~
It's about a month after the apoca-lapse and they've been slowly but surely spending more time together, to the point where they're rarely apart, even at night.
It's Aziraphale, surprisingly, who suggests they move in together.
"Just for convenience's sake, you understand," he says, when Crowley looks up at him wide-eyed at the suggestion. "We're spending so much time together, we may as well, and- it makes it easier for us to keep an eye on each other. Should--hostile parties," - his eyes flicker up to Heaven and down to Hell - "decide they want...more to do with us." He swallows, partly from the thought of Heaven or Hell trying to separate him from Crowley, but mostly from the way Crowley is looking at him...in astonishment, or possibly horror. His voice grows quieter, now, as he looks at the floor, breaking Crowley's gaze. "Plus, I rather like having you around, dear boy," he mumbles forlornly.
He's about to open his mouth and take it back, say it's obviously a stupid idea, when Crowley finally comes to his senses.
"Yes!" he practically shouts. Aziraphale nearly jumps out of his skin. "Yes, Angel, of course I'll move in with you."
Aziraphale doesn't even try to hide his relief, a giddy smile opening itself up on his face. He finds Crowley grinning back at him.
"Well, good!" he says, rubbing his hands together. "I mean, I had hoped that you would want to, and it makes sense for practical reasons, but-"
Crowley's pupils narrow to slits and his brow furrows. "Aziraphale," he says, and Aziraphale cuts off mid-ramble.
"Yes, my dear?" he asks, and Crowley ignores the stab of pain at the pet name that he's convinced himself over the years doesn't mean anything, no matter how much he might want it to.
"Please don't tell me you just want me to move in with you for practical reasonsss," he hisses.
Aziraphale looks shocked, and a bit scared. "Well, no, of course not, like I said, I do enjoy your company, and-"
"It's more than that, though," Crowley says, almost wanting to bite his tongue off as he says it, but fuck that, he needs to know. He's spent so many years now not pushing, letting Aziraphale go at his own pace, ignoring his own feelings. But they've just averted the Apocalypse, and brought the wrath of Heaven and Hell down on them and narrowly avoided complete annihilation, and, well. If there was anything mutual about this partnership other than their shared history, now would be about the time to say.
"It's - I- you know I can't," Aziraphale stutters, closing his eyes in anguish. It's not that he doesn't want to, he thinks. But want to what? And that's where he comes unstuck. That road still feels too dangerous to go down. He looks helplessly back at Crowley.
Crowley sighs, hating putting his angel in a painful position. "You wouldn't come with me to Alpha Centuri," he says, quietly. He continues before Aziraphale can interrupt with excuses or platitudes - he's not in the mood. "That's OK, I understand why." He didn't, really, but he understood that Aziraphale had his reasons, and he understood to an extent what those reasons were, and that was close enough. "It's just-" he inhaled sharply. "If Heaven came back, tomorrow, and said 'oh, never mind, Aziraphale, we were wrong, you can come back among our ranks but you won't ever be able to see your demon pal again, fraternising, wouldn't be right, etcetera etcetera' - would you go?"
"Of course not!" Aziraphale spluttered, looking deeply offended. "That you could even consider--after all we've been through-"
"But that's my point, Aziraphale," Crowley said, and his snake eyes were sad and tired. "I've never been sure. You've never-" he swallowed, knowing how this was going to sound. "You've never-- committed to me. Always been too afraid, of Heaven, of being a bad angel, of me tempting you." He rolls his eyes. "Well, I'm bloody committed to you. I'd choose you, every time, over and over, no matter what the consequence or the alternative is. Above Heaven, above Hell, above Earth, even if it means being obliterated from existence." He pauses, breathing heavily. "The question is, can you promise me the same?"
Aziraphale is frozen, for all of ten seconds, but they are the longest ten seconds of Crowley's existence. Then he clears his throat, jaw set, expression grave. "I can," he says softly. Then, more clearly, "You have my word."
Even though he doesn't need to breathe, Crowley lets out a sigh of relief then that is so long and loud that it sets them both to giggling. Soon they are on the floor laughing, snorting very uncouthly, as if Crowley breathing is the funniest joke they could ever have told. Eventually, Crowley recovers himself enough to stand up, and offers his hand to Aziraphale.
"Come on then, Angel," he says lightly, still grinning all over his face. "Get up. My blasted plants aren't going to move themselves."
Aziraphale looks wonderingly at Crowley's hand, a small smile gracing his face as he accepts it. He allows Crowley to pull him up and lead him out the door of the bookshop.
Outside the sun is shining, the Earth keeps turning, and nothing can ever go wrong again.
