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It was ten past nine when the bells jingled above the bookshop’s door signaling to its proprietor, Aziraphale Fell, that a customer had just entered his establishment.
“Be right with you,” a cheery sing-song voice called out from behind a row of tall bookcases.
The ginger-haired man waiting just inside the bookshop’s front door, on its raised entryway, was dreading the encounter he was about to have. He was stylishly dressed in a black cashmere jumper, tight black jeans, and polished black boots that one could see one’s reflection in.
While waiting, he took a moment to wistfully look around the space. He was very familiar with the establishment, and its owner, but hadn’t visited the bookshop in almost five months. He had missed the place, but even more desperately, he had missed the man who ran it.
The pensive man, clad in black, glanced at his matching expensive watch, featuring an oversized face loaded with various dials and gauges that provided much more information than its wearer could ever possibly need. Ironically, he only purchased the watch to tell time, selecting the high-end time piece because of its precision. Order and precision were always important qualities to him, so having to live in chaos and disorder for the last five months had taken a toll on the man, who looked pale and tired. As he checked the time, he couldn’t help but notice how his hand had aged. He shook his head as he stared at both of his hands now bearing calluses at the palm and on some of his fingers. He took comfort in knowing that at least Aziraphale, the bookshop owner, wouldn’t notice how he had changed so drastically over the past five months.
Back to the present, the man was relieved that it was still early because it meant that Aziraphale would likely be alone, as he routinely opened the bookshop by himself. He knew that his assistant Newt normally didn’t arrive until close to 10:00 am, so the man purposely arrived just after opening time to ensure he could speak privately with Aziraphale. This took quite the concerted effort on the man’s part as he was normally a late riser, due to recent chronic trouble sleeping.
It seemed like he had been waiting for Aziraphale to pop out from behind an aisle for hours, but in reality, it had only been five minutes and thirty-seven seconds according to his fancy watch. His stomach was in knots, figuratively speaking, and his palms were sweaty, anxious to see the shop owner after all their time apart. So much had happened since their last encounter. He braced himself mentally while he continued waiting. It didn’t help his nerves that it was eerily quiet, but he was still grateful that no other customers were in the bookshop.
Suddenly, a welcoming voice made the man’s head look up. “Welcome to A.Z. Fell. How may I help you?”
“Angel. I mean Aziraphale.” The man quickly corrected himself, realizing he had no right to utter the nickname anymore.
“Crowley?” Were his ears deceiving him? Aziraphale hadn’t heard that distinct voice in months.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
Once the initial shock dissipated, the anger crept in as Aziraphale proceeded to scold Crowley as if he were a child arriving home way past curfew. “Where the heaven have you been?”
“More like hell,” Crowley uttered under his breath.
“I was worried sick. I called and called for two weeks. All I ever got was your voice mail, until that was full. I would have gone to your place, but I didn’t have the address. For all I knew, the ground had swallowed you up whole.”
“Would have been preferable to this,” Crowley mumbled to himself.
“What?” a clearly frustrated Aziraphale asked. “I can’t understand what you’re saying. You just vanish off the face of the earth and now you’re mumbling!” Aziraphale admonished.
“I’m sorry, Angel. So very damn sorry.” Crowley spoke clearly now, but his voice was strangled with regret and pain, causing Aziraphale to immediately soften his approach.
“It’s all right. I didn't mean to upset you. It’s just… I’m confused. After all this time.”
“Felt like an eternity,” Crowley remarked.
“Then why stay away?” Aziraphale’s question was met with silence and the air felt heavy between them. “Are you alright?”
“Not really, but that doesn’t matter. I had to come. I didn’t want you to think I just ghosted you. Because I’d never. You meant too much to me.”
“Meant?” Aziraphale didn’t like Crowley’s use of the past tense. It hurt, like a stab to his heart, but he didn’t dare show it in fear that Crowley would simply leave, so he put on a brave face and suggested, “Listen, why don’t you come inside and we can talk. I can make us some hot cocoa. I know mine is your favorite… or at least it was.”
“Is. Still is.” The offer was more than tempting, it was comforting, like a much needed warm hug. He could already smell the sweet aroma of the chocolate in the air as he thought back to their many shared hot cocoas, often enjoyed while snuggling together on Aziraphale’s worn brown leather sofa. His heart now ached reminiscing about those moments.
“Ah. Good.” Under the assumption that Crowley had decided to stay, a relieved Aziraphale straightened his waist coat and began walking towards the bookshop’s kitchenette, until Crowley spoke once more and Aziraphale stopped dead in his tracks.
“But I can’t” Crowley uttered coldly. He was determined to remain resolute even though it pained him to see the sudden look of disappointment on Aziraphale’s face as he shattered his hopes in an instant. The only thing that prevented Crowley from changing his mind right there and then was that he literally couldn’t get any closer to Aziraphale, which was a good thing because he needed to maintain his distance if he was going to stick to the plan. He just had to, because it was in Aziraphale’s best interest that he stick to the plan.
An offended and confused Aziraphale protested, “Why ever not?”
“Look, Angel, coming here was torture for me, but I did it because I owed you closure. I need you to know that none of this was your fault. Plus, I came to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“I’m leaving London.”
“Leaving London. Why? You love… you love it here.”
Crowley remained silent.
Crowley’s silence infuriated Aziraphale and he raised his voice in frustration. “Crowley, after everything we’ve been through, I think I deserve some answers.” How dare he just waltz into his bookshop after disappearing for five months and just drop a bomb that he was leaving for good!
“I don’t know what to say. This is hard for me, too.”
“Is it? Doesn’t seem to be from where I’m standing. You can’t even be bothered to come near me.”
Crowley looked down at the three steps in front of him that led to the bookshop’s main floor and knew they were impossible to traverse. He couldn’t risk getting hurt even more than he already was. He also needed to maintain the distance between them for his own emotional wellbeing if he was going to make a clean break.
“Damn it, Crowley. Say something! We were supposed to meet at The Ritz almost five months ago to celebrate us, and you stood me up. It was humiliating.”
“I know. I wanted to be there. You have to believe me.”
“How can I? You disappeared for months and now you’re keeping me at arm’s length. You won’t even come inside and talk to me,” Aziraphale scoffed.
Crowley just stared at the vision before him that was his former lover. He scanned Aziraphale’s whole body as if trying to memorize every part of him. The kind blue eyes that always pierced his soul and read him like a book, despite being unable to focus, were now a stormy blue of pent up anger and frustration.
The front door suddenly opened and new footsteps signaled that they weren’t alone anymore. Aziraphale quickly stated, “We’re closed.”
The potential customer was about to turn around when Crowley plainly stated, “He’s not. Can you hold the door for me? I was just leaving.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale protested.
“Sorry, Angel. I truly wish you the best. You deserve it. Good luck.” Crowley quietly exited through the front door.
“Good luck? Crowley. Come back. I need you,” Aziraphale pleaded.
The new customer uncomfortably remarked, “Um, I’m sorry, but he just left.”
Aziraphale quickly grabbed his keys from the top drawer of his desk and his cane and hurried to the front door.
“I’m so sorry, but we are most definitely closed,” Aziraphale informed the potential customer as he raced to the door.
Seeing the cane in Aziraphale’s hand, the man proceeded to hold the door open for Aziraphale and within a moment they were both outside the bookshop. As Aziraphale quickly locked the bookshop’s front door, he asked, “Did you see where he went?”
“He went to the right.” The man now checked to see if he could still see Crowley and easily spotted him. “He’s about half a block down. He stopped in front of a shop window… I think he’s crying.”
Aziraphale thanked the man, unfolded his white cane in a flash, and headed in Crowley’s direction. He walked furiously, staying close to the wall of the establishments as he swiped his white cane from side to side mere inches above the pavement in front of him to safely navigate the sidewalk.
“Crowley! Crowley!” Aziraphale called out hoping he was still close by.
“Ugh. Aziraphale, go back to the bookshop. Please.” Crowley furiously wiped away his tears.
“No, I’m coming to you. You better stay right there because if I have to chase you, I may get reckless. Might even get disoriented and veer right into oncoming traffic. You wouldn’t want that guilt hanging over your head now, would you?”
“You’re impossible, Angel.” He took a deep breath to collect himself. “I’m in front of the record shop’s window display.”
“Should have known. You always liked that one. Now stay put.”
“Fine. Just be careful.” As soon as Aziraphale was just about a foot away from him Crowley loudly ordered, “Stop. I’m right in front of you.” He tried to throw his voice so it sounded like it was coming from the right level for his tall frame.
“Why are you shouting? I can hear you just fine.”
“Sorry.” Well, that didn’t work as planned, Crowley thought to himself.
“The customer from the bookshop said you were crying.”
“Maybe he should mind his own business. I just had something in my eye.”
Aziraphale folded his arms, the white cane was now dangling from its strap around Aziraphale’s wrist. “Really? And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Aziraphale knew there were no benches along the sidewalk.
“Who says I’m sitting on the floor?”
“I’m blind, not stupid. I can hear where your voice is coming from... Well?”
Crowley avoided the question altogether, changing the subject. “Angel, please just go back to the bookshop and forget you ever met me. I’m no good for you.”
“Crowley, stop telling me what to do. Don’t patronize me. I can handle anything you need to say to me. Now what is going on?”
As a tightlipped Crowley refused to answer, Aziraphale took matters into his own hands and moved closer to where he had heard Crowley’s voice. His white cane hit metal where Crowley’s feet ought to be. Then it tapped what seemed to be rubber. A wheel perhaps?
“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s heart sank and Crowley could see by the expression on his face that Aziraphale had figured it all out. Crowley froze, mortified that his secret was out. He took a moment to breathe deeply in and out as he summoned the courage to tell Aziraphale the truth.
“Angel, I had an accident, almost five months ago.”
“The night of The Ritz?”
“Yep. That’s why I didn’t make it to our date.”
“Oh, Crowley.”
“I was in a coma for three weeks and once I was stable, I got transferred to rehab. I got released a week ago.”
“A week ago? You were in hospital this whole time?” Aziraphale asked in shock.
“Yeah. The accident was pretty bad. I suffered a concussion, some broken bones, and… I severed my spinal cord… I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”
Aziraphale gasped and put his hand to his mouth. “Oh, my darling. I’m so sorry.” His heart broke for Crowley as tears quickly welled in his eyes. He tried to hold them back for Crowley’s sake, but the dam broke and he started to weep.
“I didn’t want you to find out.”
“But why? I could have been there for you. I called you so many times. You must have known that I was worried sick about you.”
“My phone broke and once I got a new one about a month later, I saw all your messages and almost called you back. But then, I saw that your calls petered out and I thought it was for the best. That in time, you could forget about me.”
“I could never forget you.” Aziraphale bent down on one knee to get closer to Crowley.
Crowley tried to stop him. “Don’t. Your trousers. You’ll get them dirty. The sidewalk’s all mucky.”
“I couldn’t care less.” He placed his cane down and reached out in front of him. He found Crowley’s knees, which Crowley couldn’t feel but he could see how gentle Aziraphale’s touch was. He moved his hands further up and landed on Crowley’s hands that were clasped together on his lap. Aziraphale placed Crowley’s hands in his and raised them to his lips to kiss them. Crowley melted at the show of affection from his sweet angel, realizing at that moment how much he missed the warmth of Aziraphale’s lips and his soothing touch.
“My sweet, darling. How did it happen?”
“It was my fault. I didn’t look where I was going. I saw The Ritz a block ahead of me and I knew you were waiting inside for me… I was so excited. I only looked straight ahead as I ran across the street…” Crowley couldn’t go on. His chest heaved and he started sobbing.
Aziraphale got up, leaned over, and wrapped his arms around Crowley. “It’s all right. I’m here now. I won’t leave you alone.” Aziraphale’s solid build and soft belly felt heavenly pressed against Crowley’s body, forming a protective cocoon. For the first time in a long time, Crowley felt safe.
Crowley clung to Aziraphale’s arm as he laid his head on Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale rubbed comforting circles along Crowley’s back, which had a calming effect on Crowley. Aziraphale then stroked Crowley’s hair and gently rocked him, relieved that Crowley’s cries had reduced to a soft whimper. “I wish you would have told me. I would have rushed to your side.”
“I couldn’t saddle you with this.”
“Saddle me? I loved you. I would have taken care of you.”
“That’s exactly what I didn’t want. Aziraphale, life is hard enough for you, why add dealing with a paraplegic to the mix. I couldn’t do that to you. You have the bookshop, your writing…. I would have just been a burden.”
“Never. Don’t you dare say that. You were my everything, Crowley. When you disappeared, a piece of my heart died that day. When I heard your voice today, it was like my prayers had been answered. My heart leapt in my chest.”
“I was afraid by now that you hated me.” Crowley shut his eyes and pressed his forehead into Aziraphale’s chest. “But I had to come because I couldn’t live with myself if you thought I had abandoned you. I never would have done that.”
“And I never would have abandoned you. Especially not after everything you had gone through.” A terrible thought suddenly entered Aziraphale’s mind. “Please tell me you didn’t’ go through all this alone.”
“No, my mom and sister came over from Scotland. They’ve been amazing. They’re still here, staying at my flat.”
“Thank goodness.”
“They want me to move back to Scotland with them.”
Aziraphale pulled back a little and asked, “Oh. Is that what you want?”
“Not really, but,” Crowley paused as he sighed in defeat, “it’s too painful staying here, with all the memories.”
Aziraphale gently cupped Crowley’s cheek. “It doesn’t have to be painful. Stay. Stay with me. We can start over. We can be together. I never stopped loving you. Now that you’re here, I don’t want us to be apart again.”
Crowley placed his hand over Aziraphale’s and leaned his cheek into the warmth of Aziraphale’s palm. “I never stopped loving you either, Angel. But I’m not the man I once was.”
Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands in his. “Of course you are. The man before me is the same man I have always known and loved. You are kind, loving, charming, witty, and apparently still a fan of bebop.” Aziraphale smiled and nodded towards the record shop’s window display, which made Crowley chuckle. “And you still have that same beautiful laugh and beguiling voice that thrills me every time I hear it. Plus, these elegant hands that were made to hold mine, luscious wavy hair so soft to the touch, and a lithe build that fits like a puzzle piece, so perfectly against the curves of my body. Everything I fell in love with in the first place is still a part of you. You are the same man I loved five months ago in every way that matters.”
Crowley was overwhelmed by Aziraphale’s beautiful words. “May I kiss you, Angel?”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Here, come sit on my lap.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale down and Aziraphale got situated on his lap. Crowley instinctively wanted to hold him, so he put his arms around Aziraphale and embraced him tightly, smelling his hair and taking in the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood.
“I missed this so much,” Aziraphale admitted as he leaned into Crowley, resting his head on Crowley’s, the sides of their foreheads now touching.
“I did, too.” Crowley then looked around and observing that no one was in their immediate vicinity, he leaned in and captured Aziraphale’s lips in his. The kiss was chaste and cautious, it had been months after all. But it quickly felt warm, it felt right, it felt like no time had passed at all and it made both men hungry for more. The next kiss was eager and passionate, a kiss that made up for lost time.
When their lips parted, Aziraphale sighed contentedly. “I missed those lips desperately. How about we continue this at the bookshop? Wouldn’t want us arrested for indecency.”
“Nah. Anything goes in Soho. But yeah, I’d like that.”
“We’ll go through the back entrance. No steps.”
“I’ll give you a ride there.”
“How gallant of you.”
Crowley scooped up Aziraphale’s white cane that was situated on the floor next to him and handed it to Aziraphale, who folded it neatly. Crowley then pecked Aziraphale on the cheek and warned him to hold on as they headed to the bookshop’s back entrance.
“Ever the speed demon, I see,” Aziraphale joked.
Once inside, Crowley asked, “Do you think we can have that hot cocoa now?”
“Of course, my love. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa, our sofa.”
“Ours?”
“We’ve spent enough time on it together that by now it’s as much yours as mine.”
Crowley laughed, which was music to Aziraphale’s ears after the emotional rollercoaster they had just experienced.
From the little kitchenette to the right of the sofa, Aziraphale continued talking as he prepared the hot cocoa, “But seriously, I want you to know that you are welcome here anytime. I want this to be your home too, and we can modify it any way you need.”
“Thanks, Angel. Same goes for my flat in Mayfair. I want to share it with you. In fact, I was going to give you a key to my place that night at The Ritz.”
“Really?” Aziraphale paused and turned to face in Crowley’s direction.
“Really. I’d like nothing more than for us to live together. We can split our time between here and Mayfair. Whaddya think?”
“I think nothing would make me happier.” An overjoyed Aziraphale merrily wiggled his body as he continued preparing the hot cocoa, which did not go unnoticed by Crowley, who found his angel’s wiggles very sexy.
“Same here, Angel… You know, I almost forgot how sexy you look when you’re making your famous hot cocoa.”
“Sexy?” Aziraphale asked, quirking a brow.
“It’s practically sinful the way you wiggle that plush rear and those luscious thighs whenever you’re doing something that makes you happy.”
Aziraphale couldn’t help but giggle. “Never noticed that habit. I guess that explains why the bed shakes so much when we’re in it together, because doing you makes me very happy.” He blew a tempting kiss in Crowley’s direction.
“Well then, maybe after our hot cocoa, I can return the favor and make you oh so very happy once more,” Crowley offered in his best seductive drawl.
Suddenly, a rush of arousal coursed through Aziraphale’s body. The idea of getting intimately reacquainted with his lover was thrilling, so he wasted no time putting the finishing touches on the hot cocoa.
Aziraphale brought over two mugs filled to the brim and topped with whipped cream and sprinkles and then sat on the sofa, sidling up to Crowley, whose body felt so warm and inviting. He then handed one of the mugs to Crowley, who raised it and made a toast, “To our world,” clinking his mug with Aziraphale’s, who responded, “To our world, indeed.”