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It was no exaggeration that Aziraphale and Crowley spent nearly every single waking (and non-waking) moment together now. They’d been somewhat inseparable already in recent years, but the last few months had seen them joined at the hands, the arms, legs, and lips, and plenty of more interesting combinations day in and day out. Crowley rarely left the bookshop unless Aziraphale was coming with him. And if Aziraphale was completely honest, it was the truest paradise he’d ever known.
It stood to reason that when hearing of a rare book fair in Glasgow the following week, he wasn’t immediately as giddy at the prospect as he used to be.
That was not the sort of thing Crowley would be jumping for joy to accompany him to, but the idea of leaving Crowley behind for a few days was nearly unspeakable. He hadn’t let him out of his sight for more than a local errand since their tearful, tragic reunion. But the bubble of this, as it might be called, honeymoon phase would burst at some point. It wasn’t entirely realistic to be together every moment for the rest of eternity, no matter how blissful that sounded in theory.
And besides, just because he never wanted to leave Crowley’s side again didn’t mean Crowley felt the same. He wouldn’t blame him if Crowley relished in a few days apart, getting to play whatever music he liked at whatever volume, sleeping until whatever time he wanted without being poked and prodded to keep a certain angel company, not having to work around the constraints of mealtimes if he didn’t quite care for food that day.
Good lord, had he really been encroaching into every crevice of Crowley’s life, monopolizing all his time? Suffocating him, stifling his free, chaotic spirit into a quiet echo of what it should be, keeping him soft and small enough to fit into whatever space was available to him in the bookshop?
Perhaps a few days apart would be a good thing.
He broached the subject that evening, not even looking away from his reading as he told Crowley about the book fair. He couldn’t bear to see any trace of relief in Crowley’s eyes, if it was indeed there.
“I imagine you don’t have an interest in joining me.”
Crowley hesitated strangely, pulling Aziraphale’s attention just in time to see him shake his head dismissively. “Nah. You know how I feel about booksellers.”
Aziraphale shot him a saucy glance over the top of his spectacles. “Oh, do I.”
“I don’t mean you. When’s the last time you sold a book? You’re a book hoarder, is what you are.”
Aziraphale ignored that. “Anywho, it would probably be dreadfully boring for you. It’s no bother. I won’t be gone long.”
Crowley swirled the wine at the bottom of his glass, staring at it intently. “And… how long do you think that’ll be?”
“Well, the fair is all day Wednesday, so perhaps I’ll arrive Tuesday evening and depart early Thursday. I’d like to be back by dinner time. I do love the train, but the cafe car leaves something to be desired.”
Crowley nodded, seemingly nonplussed by this information. At least he wasn’t heaving a massive sigh of relief to be spending a few days without Aziraphale breathing down his neck.
Before he left, Crowley disappeared for an hour one afternoon and returned with a brand new smart phone, already activated and loaded with apps Aziraphale would never use nor know how to. It also held a handful of numbers for people he couldn’t imagine needing to contact on the go, but Crowley only demonstrated how to call his own.
“Just in case of emergencies,” he’d said.
No more than an hour after Aziraphale got off the train in Glasgow, the phone lit up with Crowley’s name and a rather dashing photo he’d clearly taken of himself the day he bought it.
“All settled?” Crowley asked.
“Oh, yes. Right as rain. Which it is, by the way. Raining. That’s Scotland, for you.”
“Right, just making sure.”
Aziraphale beamed to himself. “You’re very sweet to check in.”
All he got in response to that was a mild, wordless grumble.
Aziraphale sat on the pointlessly plush bed of the charming little bed and breakfast he’d found. “Getting up to anything this evening?”
A few more characteristic noncommittal noises. “Eh, probably not.”
“Well,” Aziraphale said. “I miss you terribly already.”
“Likewise, angel,” Crowley said, an unmistakable warmth flooding his low, gravelly rumble. “I’ll, uh… Let you get on with it.”
Aziraphale’s heart sank just a bit. Crowley probably had things he wanted to get to. He only had so many evenings without Aziraphale fussing about. “Right, yes.”
“Enjoy yourself,” he said. “Don’t buy more than you can carry.”
“I won’t. Oh! Crowley,” he said. There was something else couples usually said before ending a phone call, wasn’t there?
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
He could practically hear him blushing through the phone, the smile in his voice unmistakable.
“Love you too, angel.”
Throughout his short trip, even when sifting through mountains of tantalizingly obscure books and folios, Crowley leapt to his mind unbidden. He thought of him near constantly, wondering what he was up to and if he was getting on with any mischievous hijinks that were best done in Aziraphale’s absence. He hoped he was having a fine time, some well-needed space to himself, and hoped that it would be long enough for him to still be pleased for Aziraphale to come home.
When Crowley had called the first night, Aziraphale assumed he genuinely just wanted to be sure he’d arrived without any trouble. But he called three more times while he was away, twice on Wednesday, and once in the morning before he boarded his train home. Each time, Crowley sounded abjectly bored, reporting no interesting happenings on his end, only lighting up and gaining some vim when asking what Aziraphale was up to. At first, Aziraphale was suspicious. Perhaps Crowley was doing his best to obscure something, some incidental damage to the bookshop that he was working to cover up as they spoke. But in reality, Crowley wasn’t that good at keeping things from him.
If he had to put a name on it, Crowley simply sounded… down. Maybe something had happened. He couldn’t recall anything strange about his behavior before he’d left, but when Crowley dropped him off at Euston Station, he had kissed him like he was sending him off to war. Was there something going on with him that Aziraphale had just been entirely oblivious to? It was certainly cause for some worry.
Crowley said he’d be waiting to pick him up on a side street the moment his train arrived back in London, and he was, of course, true to his word. Aziraphale had never been fond of running unless absolutely necessary, but he’d have considered sprinting off the platform and through the throngs of Euston Station if only the crowds permitted.
He swept through the doors and down the steps to the street and promptly broke into a brilliant smile when he laid eyes on Crowley.
There he was, leaning against the side of the Bentley, arms folded, one knee popped out, as sharp as ever. The only thing that detracted from his debonair swagger was the eager, near giddy grin he wore. Gone were the days of shrewdly put-on frowns implying that this was an obligatory, inconvenient favor. Crowley couldn’t hide his delight if he tried.
“Hey, angel,” he said as soon as he was in earshot.
Aziraphale stepped briskly to meet him on the pavement, grinning all the way himself.
“Hello, my dear.”
Crowley opened the backseat, plucked Aziraphale’s case from his hand, and tossed it in the car without a care for the delicate materials inside. He didn’t have time to scold him for it before Crowley was curling one hand around his neck, the other arm around his waist, and pulling him into a positively ardent kiss.
Aziraphale matched him in an instant, throwing himself around Crowley’s shoulders and pressing into him just as urgently. Crowley let out a muffled little groan of relief and Aziraphale pulled back with a chuckle.
“Did you miss me?”
“What do you think?” Crowley dove back in, kissing him with such vigor Aziraphale couldn’t help but lose himself in it. This, more than anything, truly felt like coming home.
Eventually, Crowley let up, leaning back to gaze at him but making no moves to unhand him just yet.
“You’d have thought I was gone for a lifetime,” Aziraphale said.
“Yeah, well, three days feels like a lifetime when I get to kiss you now.”
Aziraphale brushed his hands over his shoulders with a pitying gaze.
“You should have come along if you were going to be lonely.”
Crowley shrugged, only now loosening his grip. “I wasn’t lonely, just…” He wrung his neck around a bit, dropping his voice to a mumble. “Just used to having you around. Come on. Get in.”
Crowley opened the passenger’s side door for him and he gladly obliged, taking his seat while Crowley rounded the car to his own. He felt an unexpected pang of guilt, seeing firsthand how relieved and overjoyed Crowley seemed now compared to how he’d sounded on the phone.
“Well, next time I’m not letting you stay behind sulking,” he said.
Crowley bristled slightly at that. “I wasn’t sulking.”
“That’s not what I heard on the phone,” he said, aiming for playful. But suddenly, Crowley’s spirit seemed to sink, as if it was no laughing matter at all. He peeled off through Central London without another word, leaving Aziraphale to study him from the passenger’s seat.
“I know it’s an absolute bore for you, but I really wouldn’t mind you joining me next time.”
“Look, it’s your thing,” Crowley said. “Your little book-buying missions. I don’t want to—I don’t know. Dampen the mood.”
Aziraphale gawked at him. “Do you really think it would dampen my mood to have my—my beloved waiting to take me to dinner at the end of a long day out of town?”
“I don’t know. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, searching his face for an explanation as to why he was so cagey all of a sudden. Something had to be hiding behind those glasses.
“You could simply come along and do something else while I’m book shopping,” he tried, settling back into his seat. “You don’t have to accompany me at every moment.”
They drove in silence for a moment while Crowley contemplated.
“Maybe next time.”
“Yes, next time.”
Despite this agreement, it still felt like something had soured. Crowley had been so happy to see him and now looked uncomfortable, like his bones had suddenly forgotten in which order they were meant to settle, perhaps a tad bitter. It left Aziraphale wondering what exactly to make of all those phone calls. A sneaking suspicion crept in, one that Aziraphale resented, but had to ask after anyway.
“Well, not to imply anything, but what did you do while I was away?”
Crowley’s scowl deepened. “Nice job not implying anything.”
“I’m sorry, but you must see why I ask.”
“I don’t, actually. Care to explain?”
Aziraphale sighed, humoring him even though he knew Crowley knew what he meant. “You said the book-buying is my thing. Do you… have your things?”
“What? Of course, I do,” he spat.
“And… they are?”
“Wh–all sorts of things! Plants, music, cinema. Culture, angel. All the things you don’t get because they’re ‘too modern.’”
“And did you… engage with these things while I was away?”
He shrugged, now less convincing. “I mean, sure.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale said, no true relief gleaned from that. “Good.”
When Crowley neglected to expand, he pressed in again. “Did you… see any films?”
Crowley shook his head with a deep, nonchalant frown. “There was one I was thinking about but I wanted to wait for you. You might like it.”
Aziraphale didn’t want to distract him from his driving, but he couldn’t help but glare at him until he glanced over.
“What?” Crowley spat.
“Did you truly do nothing while I was gone?”
“Did you want me to be out partying it up like some disgusting, sleazy bachelor?”
“No! Of course not!” he cried. “I don’t know, just… I don’t want to fight. I’ve missed you.”
Crowley shook his head. “Not fighting, just don’t know what you’re on about.”
This was not how it was supposed to go. Aziraphale thought he was going to come home to a joyous, sweet reunion, but somehow he’d picked a fight instead. He felt like a villain, half for leaving Crowley behind in the first place and half for being so impish about it the second he returned.
Silence descended upon the car for another moment as they entered the bustling edge of Soho. Why did Crowley have to make it so hard to wheedle out what actually went on in that lovely, thick head?
He tried again, aiming for metered, well-meaning, and not at all condescending.
“Not that I’m not flattered, but I’m a bit worried about… the presence I hold in your life.”
Crowley continued to stare straight ahead, as if he cared very much about road safety. “Well, I don’t know what you expect.”
Aziraphale clucked his tongue. “I just don’t want you to be lost if I’m not around.”
Crowley’s sneer deepend. That might have not been the best thing to say, in hindsight.
“What, you think I’m just withering away like a sailor’s wife staring out the window towards the sea?”
“Well, it seems to me like you just put everything on pause until I returned.”
“I was just taking it easy. Is that a crime?”
“I suppose not, I just—is there anything you specifically like to do without me?”
“I mean… not much anymore,” Crowley said, the most honest-sounding answer he’d given so far. And precisely what Aziraphale had hoped not to hear.
“See!” he cried. “This is exactly what I’m worried about. You need a life outside of me, Crowley. That’s what everyone says.”
“Who says?”
A short list popped to mind. Nina. Maggie. The man he often saw at the bakery who treated him like a trusted confidante, despite the fact that Aziraphale called him by a different name every week. That lady on the radio who wrote a book on this sort of thing. None of them sources Crowley was inclined to immediately trust on matters of his personal life.
“I don’t know, but they say it,” he said quickly, catching the immediate scowl from Crowley. “Not about you, but about… romantic partnerships.”
“Is that so,” he said, a deadly flat murmur.
“I’m just starting to feel rather guilty for leaving you behind.”
Crowley threw one hand in the air wildly, no doubt leaving the other on the wheel for only Aziraphale’s benefit. “Look. I have things I like to do but I want to do them with you. How in the world could that be a bad thing?”
“It’s not a bad thing,” he said, quickly tacking on, “I don’t think.”
“I really thought we’d figured all this out. I love you, Aziraphale. Excuse me if it’s–it’s not fun to be away from you now after all the time I spent having to pretend I didn’t care. Sorry I wasn’t having the time of my life while you were off gallivanting on your own.”
Aziraphale stared at him. There was a distinct though unnamable hurt there, one that he hadn’t meant at all to inflict, one he hadn’t even considered he might be the cause of until this very moment. He’d spent the last few days in Scotland thinking of Crowley so often that he didn’t quite consider how much Crowley might have thought of him. Nor did he do much about it, leaving Crowley the responsibility of being the one to call and check in. He couldn’t blame him for getting the impression that Aziraphale didn’t care.
“Crowley…” he said. “You must know how terribly I wished you were with me.”
“Well, you made it quite clear you didn’t want me tagging along.”
That hit him like a slap in the face. “What? When?”
“You were all like, ‘I’m sure you don’t want to come. Best stay behind while I sort out my business. Don’t need you mucking about, complaining and getting in my way.’”
“I said nothing of the sort!” he cried. “I just assumed you–I thought you didn’t want to come!”
Aziraphale got that all too familiar desperate, muddled feeling, like Crowley had sprinted ahead into territory he couldn’t understand and didn’t even know existed. Where was this coming from? He loved when Crowley got in his way. He thought that had been quite clear.
Crowley parked the car with a jolt right outside of the bookshop and sat quiet for a moment, refusing to look at him or respond.
“Did you?” Aziraphale asked.
Softly, dejected, he said, “I mean, it couldn’t have been so bad.”
Another punch in the gut. He gave a withering sigh, reaching over to graze his arm. “Oh, Crowley.”
“Whatever. It’s fine,” he said, wrenching his arm away and throwing open the door. “Let’s just drop it.”
Crowley got out of the car and Aziraphale hurried after him. He wasn’t going to get out of this by running, not when he was the one who’d made Aziraphale promise not to run or hide if things got tough or confusing.
“No!” Aziraphale cried. “If you wanted to come, you should have said so! You said you didn’t!”
Crowley shrugged as he grabbed Aziraphale’s case out of the backseat, casually slamming the door and turning towards the bookshop without another word.
With a flick of his hand, the doors flew open and he breezed inside, leaving Aziraphale to stumble after him and fumble to lock the door behind them. He set Aziraphale’s case of books down on his desk and tossed his glasses carelessly after it.
“Crowley,” he said, once they both stood in the middle of the floor, staring at each other.
Finally, Crowley lifted his arms and said, “I didn’t think I was welcome.”
“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, taking a few desperate steps toward him and stopping short before he reached him, unwilling to withstand him pulling away again. “Of course you were welcome.”
Crowley rolled his eyes, his entire head oscillating with them. “You wanted me to come, but you wanted me to be doing my own thing. Pick one, angel.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive! If you wanted to come, you should have. But if you didn’t, you shouldn’t spend your time sitting on your hands until I return!”
Crowley reset his stance, throwing a hand out before him in defense. “Angel, if I could have spent every moment of the last century with you, I would have. I don’t get why you think that would change now, of all times.”
Aziraphale let out a dismal sigh, just short of pouting. “Crowley, this is ridiculous. We can’t still be this confused about how we feel about each other.”
Crowley balked, a venomous scoff. “I am not confused about how I feel about you.”
“But you don’t seem to fully grasp how I feel.”
That shut him up, leaving Crowley staring at him, stunned and baffled.
“And perhaps I’m guilty of the same,” Aziraphale added softly.
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to come to Glasgow because it would be dreadfully boring for you, so I didn’t ask you to join me. Whereas, if I’m not mistaken, you would have gladly come along if I’d asked, but you thought you explicitly weren’t wanted.”
Crowley’s mouth fell open as if to fire back but then promptly shut.
“Have I got that right?” Aziraphale added gently.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring off at some spot beyond Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I guess.”
“Crowley, I would have loved you to come with me. How could you think I wouldn’t?”
He shrugged, shoulders now sagging, having lost his conviction. “I don’t know. We have been sort of joined at the hip. Maybe you needed some time off. From me.”
A pang of guilt struck Aziraphale in the chest that Crowley could even think such a thing, until he remembered himself.
“You know, I worried you might want the same.”
Crowley growled in frustration, though his expression had long since softened into some sad cocktail of fatigue and embarrassment. He reached back to scratch at his neck awkwardly.
“We probably could have talked about that.”
“We do seem to have trouble with making assumptions.”
“Yeah,” Crowley muttered.
“I love you,” Aziraphale said, bordering on pleading. “Is it so hard to believe that I want to spend as much time with you as you do me?
Crowley tossed his hands up in the air, desperate to understand. “Then why were you going on about me doing my own thing?”
“Oh, I don’t even know, really,” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s just what people say when talking about healthy relationships.”
Crowley let his hands drop, slapping against his sides in a dramatic display of exasperation. “I don’t really know if human parameters for healthy relationships have much bearing on us.”
“But… But they do,” he said softly. “I’d like to think that love… At least, the way we love each other… There is something rather human about it. More human than anything else about us.”
Crowley stared for a moment and then nodded. “Maybe,” he said, voice suddenly thick with emotion.
Aziraphale could barely stand being even an inch away from him anymore, so he quickly crossed the floor and took hold of his wrists, slipping his hands into Crowley’s. He locked eyes with him, up close and personal with the grief he’d wrought by yet again failing to tell Crowley how much he loved him.
“From this point on, can it just be a given that you don’t need an explicit invitation? You’re welcome wherever I am at all times, no matter where or when.”
“You mean that?” Crowley muttered, struggling to maintain his gaze.
“Of course I do, my dear.”
Aziraphale pulled him into his arms, embracing him with all the love he could possibly convey. Crowley didn’t flinch or fight. He simply melted, wrapping his long arms around him without hesitation and pressing his cheek to Aziraphale’s shoulder.
Aziraphale sighed, utterly content. Finally, the sweet reunion he’d been looking forward to.
“Good lord, I missed you.”
“I missed you too, angel.”
Aziraphale pulled back to look in his eyes, smoothing down his lapel and resting a hand over his heart. “Let’s not waste our time being silly.”
Crowley shook his head vehemently. “No, you’re right,” he said, cupping Aziraphale’s jaw in his lovely, lithe hand. “We’ve wasted way too much time already. It’s stupid to keep… I just get… scared, I guess. I’m sorry.”
“Darling, there’s no need. I’m sorry I didn’t see through it.”
“How could you have?” he muttered. “It’s fine, angel. We’re both sorry.”
He brought his other hand to frame Aziraphale’s jaw and drew him in for a kiss, gentle and precious, all the things Crowley would have insisted he wasn’t capable of being, yet proved himself constantly and utterly wrong.
“I love you,” Aziraphale said.
“I love you, too,” Crowley murmured back.
“I suppose just because that’s settled doesn’t mean we have nothing left to figure out.”
Crowley brushed his thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek, staring out from heavy-lidded eyes. “Probably right.”
“We’ll keep at it,” he said. “We have all the time in the world.”
“Yeah, we do,” Crowley said, breaking into an easy grin and throwing his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Look, why don’t we go somewhere together? Have a little getaway, just the two of us.”
Now, that was a delightful idea. The perfect antidote to this silly little fumble.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I dunno, it could be anywhere. Maybe somewhere a bit nostalgic,” Crowley said, ever so slightly rocking to and fro. “Somewhere we’ve been together before we… you know. This. Like a romantic little do-over of some place we met up and acted phenomenally obtuse in.”
The way he rushed through the word romantic as if it could bite him if he got too close… Aziraphale stifled a laugh behind an adoring smile.
“That sounds absolutely blissful,” he sighed.
“Finally,” Crowley said, tossing his head back in faux relief. “I’ve been trying to get you to run away with me for years now.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Crowley raised an accusatory brow. “Oh, you’ve made me ask way more than twice.” Still, he ducked in to steal another kiss. “What do you say, then? Where do you wanna go? I’ll take you anywhere.”
“It’s not as if choosing somewhere we’ve been before narrows it down much.”
“Let’s talk about it over dinner,” Crowley said, running his fingers under Aziraphale’s lapels, tugging gently in temptation. “You can tell me all about your Scottish books, too.”
“The books aren’t Scottish, dear. Just the seller.”
“Whatever,” he said, slipping away to grab his glasses from the desk.
“Can we go somewhere nearby? I could use a nice walk after that train ride.”
Crowley returned to his side, nodding toward the door. “Lead the way, angel.”
Aziraphale offered his hand and Crowley took it without question, even tacking on a hopeful little squeeze. That new glaze of peace and contentment that Crowley often wore these days returned, emanating from his small grin that anyone else might mistake for smug rather than smitten. Aziraphale eagerly tugged him out into the bustling early evening, giddy with a renewed sense that wherever he went, Crowley would follow.