An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Suffice it to say, Crowley, that I love you awfully. Sometimes I’m so full of love for you that I think it must be spilling out of me. I always wondered if you could sense it, somewhere in your heart, that mine was calling out to yours.”
Ineffable Husbands who haven't quite gotten the knack of admitting they're married, just yet.
In the day following their triumphant aversion of the Apocolypse - the Apocowasn't - Crowley suggests relocating to cottage in the country.
It doesn't go over so well, at first. In all fairness, he wasn't very smooth about it.
Crowley is just the right amount of paranoid & painfully uncool, Aziraphale reluctantly adoring.
Unbenknownst to them, their every move is being closely-ish, kind of, sort-of monitored by two vaguely foul, if incompetent demons.
Fluffy Romance, Kisses, Humour & liberal Austen & Shakespeare quoting ensues.