Crowley had not looked Aziraphale in the eye since they had sat down. The world is doomed again, and the burning moment of the last time they spoke still lingers on both their lips. Neither of them speak.
Finally, Crowley, both defeated once again by the gravity of his heart and angry at his angel, runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
"1941," he hisses. Aziraphale's insides crumple like paper at the sound of his voice. Crowley continues.
"God, I love him," he quotes. Aziraphale shatters.
The angel jumps up from his seat as if he were on fire (he is). He's sweating and shaking suddenly, throat closing but not quickly enough.
"You read my diary?" Aziraphale feels the ground tilt and the Earth fall off its axis. That wasn't a part of the Plan. Crowley's profile was unreadable.
The demon stands slowly. His limbs drip towards the stilted ground and he breathes. He can't stop himself.
"I lo–" Crowley starts again. He is cut off.
"I–!"
He looks at him. Now it is Aziraphale who won't meet his gaze. It is taking quite literally everything to keep Crowley planted where he is. The sight of Aziraphale's tears always destroys him completely.
As always, the angel wrings his hands. His face is red, his rosy cheeks shiny. Crowley only catches glimpses of the galaxies in his eyes as he looks this way and that.
The angel steels himself. And then that's it. He almost chuckles at the timing of it, but he's so, so...relieved. Exhilarated. Happy.
"I love him, most ineffably," Aziraphale recites. They lock eyes.
Time wraps around itself. It's wimey like that. And suddenly Crowley is back in Eden, surrounded by peace and perfection and life. And for the first time in the history of the world, the Sun rises. And Crowley looks East.
Of course, atop the Wall, a figure. Slowly awash with molten gold from a star–his stars, his star–the figure stands nervous but sure, calm but curious, beautiful and divine. Aziraphale turns away from the horizon towards the garden. And Crowley falls.
He falls into Aziraphale's arms only to squeeze and pull and lift the angel as close as divinely possible. The warmth and strength of the soft arms that desperately grip him back seep into his bones.
Aziraphale presses his face hard into Crowley's neck, daring anyone at all to separate them ever again. He's sobbing audibly now, as Crowley continues his whispers of, "I love you, I love you, I love you," right into his ear. Aziraphale decides two arms are not enough, so he pulls his wings out of space and wraps them around their shoulders, too. He feels rather than sees inky black wings shelter around their waists.
"Please, do it again," the angel pulls back just enough to look his demon in the eye once more. Oh, Someone, they're both a mess. "Kiss me, again. Please, Crowley. My love. How I love you, so."
Crowley does.
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The song that’s playing here…
It’s the same song in S1 that plays after Crowley saves Az’s books and the angel starts to realize his feelings.
Crowley’s tidying up the bookshop and waiting for his angel to return from talking with the Metatron…
Waiting for “Us time” at the Ritz — where he’ll get to watch the angel eat his brunch, they’ll laugh and talk, he’ll get to complain like he always does… and a nightingale will sing in Berkeley square…
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