Crowley stirs and takes a deep breath, clearly sobering up. He’s sitting up straighter. Well, straighter for him anyway. Aziraphale hates this time of night and the fact that it comes about every night they are together now. Almost like clockwork. Exactly like clockwork, actually. He’s allowed it because he doesn’t want to crowd Crowley or tie him down. Really, he doesn’t have to spend any evenings at the bookshop drinking with him. The fact that he does should be enough. It should be. He’s tried to let it be.
“I should be heading out,” Crowley plucks his shades from the table and perches them on his nose, standing slowly.
“So soon?” He says it before he can catch himself. It’s such a needy phrase, and he is needy. He needs Crowley to decide to stay. He watches Crowley cringe minutely, look to the floor and then the doorway and then the table- anywhere except him. “Or, maybe not.” An out. There’s always an out.
“It’s late.” Crowley fiddles with his needlessly complicated watch.
Aziraphale sighs and looks away from Crowley.
“I won’t keep you.” He won’t. He won’t pin him down to this bookshop and this quiet life. Crowley’s always been bigger than that, wilder. He can’t ask him to stay for his sake. Crowley has to decide that’s what he wants. But, after so long, so many years of pushing the demon away… He fears he doesn’t even know how to stay. Maybe he doesn’t even want to anymore. Maybe this is all out of an obligation of some kind.
Crowley hasn’t moved and hasn’t looked at him, either. It’s like the man is frozen on the spot, dithering.
“Goodnight, then.” Aziraphale stands to usher him out. Maybe he’s waiting for a more obvious sign that it’s okay to leave since Aziraphale said the needy thing.
There’s another silent pause where nothing seems to stir around them, but something does stir between them. Something slithering and double edged and very, very old.
“I would rather you did.” It’s said so quietly that if he didn’t have ethereal hearing, he’s sure he wouldn’t have caught it.
“Did what, dear?” Aziraphale studies him, taking in Crowley’s stiffened stance and his continued reluctance to look at him. He watches him swallow hard, but otherwise remain motionless in that way that they can because they aren’t entirely human; they don’t need to breathe or fidget or adjust their muscles the way humans do to be comfortable. But, they do anyway. The stillness now is unnerving in comparison. “What would you rather? You can tell me.”
“Keep me,” it looks like the words are pulled from Crowley against his will and his teeth clench after the second word as if expecting a physical blow to follow in their wake.
“I would, you know.” Aziraphale watches Crowley break his stance minutely, glancing his way sharply and then away again. “For as long as you like.”
“mmhmm.” Aziraphale feels a bubbling of hope somewhere under his lungs- that he doesn’t strictly need- and his first response is to shy away from it. Instead he decides to grab it with both metaphorical hands. For both of their sakes. “You can’t want me to keep you longer than I would like to keep you, I assure you.”
“You’re so sure.” But, he can feel Crowley looking at him from the corner of his eyes even though he can’t see through the glasses. Crowley can feel the same hope, he knows it.
“I am positive, Crowley.”
“Could be a very long time…” The stiffness is still there and Aziraphale wishes he could smooth it away with his hands, make him breathe again; come to life as the creature of motion he knows.
“I am sorry,” he moves slowly towards Crowley, careful to watch for any sign that he should stop, “that I’ve given you the impression that any amount of time with you could be too much.”
“Any?” Crowley can’t look away from him now because he’s directly in front of him, only a couple breaths away.
“May I, please?” Aziraphale motions to the glasses on his face and Crowley stares for a moment before taking a steadying breath and nodding. He reaches up and removes them, setting them on the table behind him before straightening back up to face Crowley again. “I…” And this is hard for him, too, isn’t it? But one of them has to cross the emotional minefield between them and take a chance. “… would like you to stay. Please.”
The tension in Crowley’s shoulders visibly melts as his eyes dart back and forth between Aziraphale’s, looking for the honesty in them and finding it.
“There you are,” he reaches up and strokes Crowley’s cheek, “you don’t have to be afraid of me, darling. It’s okay to want more here. It’s okay to ask for what you want with me.” There were more words he was going to say, but he finds himself being kissed suddenly and so softly it makes his heart ache. He traces his fingers along Crowley’s jawline, behind his ear, and into his hair; holding tight to prove this is absolutely welcome.
“I want to stay,” Crowley says, sucking in a deep breath as he breaks the kiss. Not only is he making eye contact now, he’s maintaining it steadily. Aziraphale leans his forehead gently against Crowley’s, savoring their shared breaths.
