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evermorepoets · 10 months

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From Eden (Just to Sit Outside Your Door)

Since ao3 is down, here is the new chapter.

Chapter 5 – Just to hide outside your door.

A bookshop in Soho, London – Post apocalypse that wasn’t.

He first knew the knock was not of human origin based on the ungodly hour of night. Humans at least had the decency to only bother him during the day, even though the firm hours sign on the door took care of most weaker willed shoppers anyway.

The onslaught of rain was his second clue as to the knock being of other origins. It had been consistently raining since last Tuesday and the sky showed absolutely no sign of letting up. So, Aziraphale untangled the warm wool blanket from his shoulders, slipped his glasses off his nose and made his way towards the door.

It had been a few days since Crowley's last visit and he had to admit, he had been worried about the demon. He carried so much tension in his shoulders these days and seemed to almost sag when he walked, rather than his usual glide. It wasn’t as if Aziraphale had never seen the demon in such a state, but ever since the apocalypse had been averted, the demon seemed to almost hold a sunny disposition exclusively on most matters. He let the angel prattle on about this and that, always animatedly contributing back into their silly little arguments as they always did. Just last week they argued about the purpose of giraffes – over a large seemingly never empty bottle of wine mind you. While the old Crowley would typically get tired at some point past 3am, and slither back to his cold unwelcoming flat, the post apocalypse that wasn’t Crowley seemed to never want to leave Aziraphale’s side. He at first was constantly reaching out with dinner invitations or tickets for a new play that Aziraphale of course couldn’t turn down.

He had begun to worry about Crowley though when he started to seem tired. Not of Aziraphale, but tired like the humans he sees go past his window in the early hours of morning to dead end jobs. There seemed to be a kind of dread hanging over Crowley's head and no matter how Aziraphale tried to pull at it, it never seemed to want to leave.

He was prepared to brush it off as another one of Crowley’s moods when he received an unexpected call from him two nights ago canceling their dinner plans for the evening.

“Yeah, sorry Angel, just got some... business to take care of.”

“Oh, of course my dear. Rain check? No pun intended.” Aziraphale attempted to laugh, staring at the downpour outside. He was only met with silence on the other end before Crowley's dim voice came back.

“Course Angel, sorry again.”

“No worries my dear, I have some tasks around the shop I should probably attend to anyway.”

“Right, bye then.”

“Bye-” Aziraphale’s voice was met with the dial tone.

✧

Crowley's head hurt. He knew he had overdone it. Between the creation of a pocket dimension and switching bodies, he was quite put out. To be fair, the very real threat of never seeing Aziraphale again after already losing him a few short hours before was too much to bear. Now he just needed a nap. He had done this before, straining his limits to ensure that his Angel was alright. He hadn’t been able to do it when it counted though. He hadn’t been there to save him, and he knew the weight of that would be on his shoulders for a very long time.

His apartment felt empty without the angel's presence to warm up the cold desolate rooms. He never minded the cold concrete walls until now. The sparce furniture was just enough for him, he didn’t need more. But the furniture just seemed to serve as a reminder that it was made for one. The only room that held some warmth was where his plants lived, but even they cowered away from him. His own fault he supposed.

When the angel came to his apartment, he had been polite enough. Not commenting on the sheer lack of comfort. Instead, he only said a few nice words about the plants before settling down on the couch and getting down to the business of what was to come. They had discussed it until sunrise, every possibility dissected and talked through. All of them had ended in their seemingly inevitable ends until the angel remembered the scrap of paper in his pocket. Crowley now thanked the stars that he did otherwise he wouldn’t be standing where he was.

It seemed cruel in a way. Despite averting the end of the world and living to tell the tale, nothing had changed; not in a way that mattered. They had gone to dinner as they always did – even going so far as to watch the ducks afterwards. Yet, Aziraphale said nothing. No indication of a potential change to their relationship. In fact, he was the one who left the park first claiming to be tired.

Maybe he shouldn’t have hoped. Maybe the brush of their hands on the bus meant nothing. Perhaps the angel really did believe he moved too fast and would never catch up. Crowley had tried to move slowly, he really did. He gave his angel all the time in the world, literally. And now they had been given more time. Extra years, centuries even to do as they wished.

As time went on, however, and the possibility of things changing grew smaller and smaller, he had lost his hope. He knew he was desperate and so he decided to do the one thing he could and stay away from the angel. As much as it hurt to stay away, especially now, he knew it was the right thing. So that night he called the angel to cancel their dinner plans, agreeing to a rain check and tucking himself into bed for what he hoped would be a long time.

✧

Aziraphale was worried well and truly, and the rain wasn’t helping his mood. He had spent the day trying to clean, scrubbing the floors, and dusting the many shelves. In the end it had only taken him till noon for the floors to be shining and the books to look practically new. Typically, down time didn’t bother him. He quite enjoyed spending days at a time doing practically nothing. Now it just meant he had more time to worry. Every so often he would find himself reaching for the phone before quickly changing his mind. It's not as if they hadn’t spent longer apart so Aziraphale wondered why now it was so different. Sure, now that the apocalypse was averted, they wouldn’t have to worry about heavenly or demonic forces looking their way and could possibly do something about their relationship. But it's not as if that would just happen overnight. He had been right in telling Crowley he went too fast. Always rushing into things. At the time it had been a warning that they couldn’t do anything because they were being watched. Now that they had all the time in the world, the angel realized he really would want to take it slow and revel in the beginnings of something beautiful.

That’s not to say that he wants to wait on those beginnings. He would have liked to have already gone on a date or at least held hands by now, but the demon suddenly seemed quite adamant to stay away from him.

So, the angel cleaned more. His entire kitchen was first and then upstairs, followed by himself. It had been too long in his opinion since he had taken a proper bath, which always seemed to calm his mind. He even dug out the rose soap from days past that reminded him of a certain snake. When he was dry, he slipped on his favorite robe and found a book from Adam’s additions he hadn’t gotten to yet. He was quite comfortable and settled into the tenth chapter when the knock came.

A flicker of annoyance came first and then hope. He made sure to check his appearance in the small mirror by the door before moving to open it. Sure enough, there was his demon looking in the worst shape he had ever seen. His hair was a sopping mess, and his clothes were completely drenched as if he had walked there. The smile fell from Aziraphale’s face as he moved to open the door wider for Crowley to come in.

His feet were sluggish as they moved through the entrance and his eyes were downcast. Aziraphale was surprised to see his glasses planted firmly on his face as he had grown more lax about wearing them in his presence. After closing the door, Aziraphale went and retrieved his blanket, putting it around Crowley's shoulders and moving him to sit near the heater. He wondered if it would be alright to take his coat, but something told him that it would be asking too much of Crowley at that moment.

Crowley sat in complete silence as Aziraphale moved like a bee around him. Warming the kettle for tea, grabbing as many blankets and towels as he could find. Asking God why Crowley was in such a state.

Crowley still sat silent even after his tea was in his hands and a towel was thrown over his head. He seemed to sag in his chair more than Aziraphale had ever seen before and if he was being completely honest with himself, he was frightened. With shaking fingers, he reached out to place his hand on top of Crowley's. His fingers were freezing, which wasn’t unusual, but he still rubbed them anyway trying to bring some warmth back into them. After a few moments, Crowley sighed and seemed to relax into his seat.

“Mm, feels good Angel.” He said, almost a whisper.

“There you are my dear, I was worried you had been knocked out of your senses.” Aziraphale replied, looking up at his face. Aziraphale had no words to truly describe how he looked. All his reading over the years could never have prepared him for the dark circles that rimmed the bottom of his glasses or the way his skin seemed so dull and nearly lifeless. After another moment, Crowley moved his hands away to rub the towel into his hair. Once he seemed satisfied, he took it off to reveal a mess of red waves, sticking this way and that. Aziraphale repressed a giggle which Crowley seemed to notice by the look he sent him.

After that they fell into small talk. The rain, the evident cleaning, everything but what was weighing on Crowley's mind. While his glasses stayed on his face, Aziraphale was happy when Crowley’s jacket came off to be hung on the radiator. When conversation lulled, Aziraphale realized he hadn’t shown Crowley all the new books yet, so he got up to collect them.

Crowley’s eyes trailed him up and down the book lined aisles. While Crowley might have the uncanny ability to know where he was anywhere in the world, Aziraphale prided himself on always being able to sense when his golden eyes traced his movements. As time went on, it practically became second nature as Crowley's lingering glances never seemed to go away.

“I can feel you; you know. I always can.” Crowley startled, his lips parting to let out a small gasp. He quickly covered it easily enough, smoothing his features back into something more akin to casual curiosity.

“Whatever do you mean angel?”

“Your beautiful eyes, why do you hide them? Especially from me? My dear I hope you know how much I love them.” Aziraphale changed the subject, his eyes on the shelf in front of him. Crowley didn’t respond, his faint breathing echoing throughout the room. After a moment Aziraphale turned back to his chair to find Crowley's head buried in his hands. A faint sob rang out into the book shop and Aziraphale was by his side in an instant, his books dropped to the floor.

“Oh, my dear I am so sorry, please tell me what I can do.” In response, Crowley simply let out another sob and curled in on himself even more. Aziraphale knew how much he hated crying. Years ago, after the crowds had left the cross, Crowley had stayed and sat in front of Jesus’ body. A few tears had rolled down his face and Aziraphale had the inexplicable urge to wipe them away. Crowley had snapped at him the second he stepped forward. He regretted it for the rest of his life, but he had left him there to mourn alone. Back then, he believed it to be for the best. To not cross the invisible lines drawn between them in the sand. Now he was determined not to make the same mistake again.

Kneeling in front of Crowley, he took his handkerchief out from his pocket. He moved slowly to not startle the demon, but he removed Crowley’s hands from his face to wipe the tears on his cheeks. With a burst of determination, he then reached up to his glasses only for Crowley to let out a faint protest. He paused for a moment, fingers just brushing the metal frames, before moving his fingers off his glasses entirely, resting them on his cheeks.

“May I?” he whispered, delicate in his wording as one might speak to a startled animal.

“Please.” Crowley sighed. It might have been the first time he had ever asked anything of the angel, but the demon needed this. He needed to give this piece of vulnerability to Aziraphale even if doing so would end in the worst heartbreak history had ever known.

Aziraphale’s hands trembled as they pulled off his glasses to reveal Crowley’s shining eyes beneath. They were red and a bit sunken from a clear lack of self-care, but Aziraphale thought they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Even if he had seen the dawn of time.

“There you are my dear.” Aziraphale said with a soft smile. He set down the dark glasses on the table next to them and looked back to Crowley's face to find him watching his own movements intensely. His hands found Crowley’s and he was surprised to feel his fingers squeeze his hand in return.

Aziraphale let Crowley catch his breath, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of the demon’s hand. Crowley’s eyes dried but they stayed focused on where their hands joined. At every place they met, Aziraphale felt it like a flame. It didn’t burn, but it was warm and tingly; pleasant even. They had never really touched each other before, not properly. The closest they had gotten was that one fateful night on the bus when their hands met for just a beat too long. Aziraphale had thought about that moment many times since, and now, he had the opportunity to finally let it be more.

“My dear, I have been thinking. Things have come to pass that frankly I never imagined we could come back from. And well, we have known each other for quite a long-time and... well. You see, I said that you went too fast because I was afraid that you would go and mess it up before it even began and-” Aziraphale was cut off by Crowley intensely gripping his hands. His eyes were wide and ardent. Aziraphale had never seen such force in them before; at least not when directed towards him.

“Angel, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Crowley's voice was hushed but there was a quiet venom behind his words. His hands were shaking with something Aziraphale was not unfamiliar with.

“Oh, my dear. Yes, I do. In fact, I have been practicing these words for some time now. Even though you might have to give me a moment to get them out I promise I mean them.” Aziraphale said, rubbing his thumb once more across his knuckles. Crowley jumped to his feet and began pacing. Aziraphale couldn’t quite make out the words, but he was mumbling under his breath. Once he seemed to reach a decision, he stalked back to where Aziraphale was kneeling.

“Don’t-” A breath. “Don’t do this to me Angel.”

“Why Crowley? We are free now. Can’t we have this?”

“I’ve tried! I’ve wanted and hoped for so long, and then I truly thought you might-” He sucked in a great breath, seeming to remember that he had lungs. “But then the end came, and you didn’t do anything. You kept on going as if nothing had happened when we both knew the whole world was so irrevocably changed.”

Aziraphale sat back in shock, Crowley's breath coming out in short pants. They sat in stunned silence, neither daring to move. Aziraphale should have known that this would happen, yet he still had held on to the hope that years of repressing something that burns inside of you would leave no marks.

After a moment Aziraphale moved to kneel at Crowley's feet. Looking up into his eyes, he took his hands and gently pressed a kiss to each one.

“Aziraphale-”

“No Crowley, let me speak for a moment.” He sucked in a big breath. “I am sorry. I know that it doesn’t make up for everything, but I promise in whatever time we have left, I will make it up to you in every other way I know how.” The dim light of the shop reflected off Crowley’s hair and from his view on the floor Aziraphale swore he had a burning halo of the brightest embers. “I have spent far too long pretending I do not pine for you. Pretending that you have not consumed me in every way another being could. That my cosmically addled mind is not full of the stardust in your eyes. I have loved all Crowley, but I love you best.” His voice broke off with a swell of emotion up from his chest. Tears rolled down his cheeks marking his face with traces of gold as they went.

Crowley sank down to his knees until they were eye level. Aziraphale could see every speck of the universe in Crowley’s eyes. His hands moved to trace lightly across his arms, his chest. He kept touching until it felt like he was everywhere. The angel’s eyes fluttered closed, losing track of where his body ended, and Crowley’s hands began.

“Just tell me you want this too, Angel.” Crowley whispered when Aziraphale couldn’t. “Tell me that this is more than just a dream because I have dreamt of you for far too many nights already.” He paused. “Tell me this is real, and I will worship you and only you for the rest of our days.”

“That’s infinity my dear.”

“I know.”

“Then I want this, I want you Crowley. So long as you will have me.”

“Always Angel. Always.”

✧

They lay in the bed that had not previously existed for some time afterwards. The soft hands against fine hair felt far too marvelous to move away from. Their legs were twisted together and Aziraphale had the faintest notion that this must be what it is like for Crowley when in his snake form he entwines himself around the back of one of Aziraphale’s plush chairs.

He hadn’t been this close to another being since the arc. He remembered the dark smelly lower deck, the animals and people all squished together. He did everything in his power to keep the area neat, but eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore. He could only be pushed around with no fresh air so many times. In the dead of night, he had spread his wings and went searching for land, after leaving a few blessings for a safe journey of course.

He had found Crowley on a mountain top. Even as he approached, he hadn’t said anything, only looked dismally out over the bleak rising waters.

“This the great ineffable plan then?” Crowley said after some time. Aziraphale hadn’t been able to look at him. He looked so miserable, he had expected Crowley to gloat, to cheer. He was a demon after all. He should’ve known better, should’ve recognized even then how good Crowley truly was.

“I suppose so.” He couldn’t stand thinking about this. He couldn’t look out at the flood anymore. He couldn’t imagine all those trapped beneath the surface. All the innocent lives lost just so God could have a redo. He felt utterly destroyed, all his sense of purpose had been ripped out from under him. He desperately tried to imagine how magnificent the supposed ‘rainbow’ would be but in all his efforts, nothing made up for the total loss.

“Angel-” Crowley’s voice reached his ears. It sounded so tentative, as if he knew just how many pieces Aziraphale was breaking into.

“This isn’t your doing, there was nothing either of us could do to stop this. You must know that.” Aziraphale sucked in a breath. He felt something welling up in his eyes and he had the inexplicable urge to reach out and take Crowley’s hand.

He did now, reaching out across the soft sheets to lace his fingers with Crowley’s. His hands were soft, but he still felt the callouses at his fingertips. He remembered those hands moving over him, touching him everywhere they could reach. He remembered kisses placed on his neck, his own hands. He still could feel the lingering marks on his body that he had no intention of getting rid of any time soon.

With his hand that wasn’t holding Crowley’s he traced his lips gently. They still tingled with the pressure they had felt mere hours earlier.

Crowley stirred next to him, his arms wrapping tighter around the angel’s middle. He mumbled something into his neck before placing a small kiss there. Aziraphale’s whole body trembled at the touch.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” The words finally reached Aziraphale’s ears properly and he smiled.

“How can I when you keep distracting me darling?” Aziraphale whispered, placing a kiss of his own on the demon’s forehead. He had every intention to sleep when Crowley passed out almost immediately after their little venture. Instead, he had taken the time to memorize Crowley’s features, from the strong slope of his nose to the soft curve of his lips. He hadn’t allowed himself to stare this openly before. He had seen Crowley sleep before of course. Yet he had never been this close. Close enough to feel his breath tickle his shoulder, to count the faint lashes resting on his cheek. Aziraphale still felt the urge to run. To put this behind him and pray that they wouldn’t be found out. Yet he stayed there, he pushed down those feelings and instead allowed for love to overtake him.

Crowley nuzzled into him, taking a deep breath in as he found a place he particularly liked in the crook of his neck.

“Mm could’ve woken me, Angel.” He replied sleepily. Aziraphale smiled, he had thought about it, but Crowley looked so utterly peaceful and the way his arms seemed to never leave him even in sleep was so comforting.

“Never my dear, I understand how fond you are of your naps.”

“I like you better though.” Crowley said easily.

That brought another smile to his face as Aziraphale began moving his hand over Crowley’s hair absentmindedly. He had always loved his hair, the way it changed nearly every time they saw each other. It was something to look forward to in their years apart. Aziraphale would often look at the people around him, dressing for the times and imagined Crowley in their various hair styles. Somehow Crowley always managed to surprise him.

“Do you think we new each other, up there I mean.” Crowley said, breaking Aziraphale out of his thoughts.

“Surely we would remember each other dearest.” Aziraphale said. He had often wondered if they had known each other over the years. The way Crowley felt too familiar to him, even in the beginning, made him question. But how could he ever forget Crowley?

“It’s not like God hasn’t taken other things from me, from both of us. Is it really so hard to believe that she would take us from each other?” They had been having more conversations like this since everything hadn’t ended. Crowley talked and Aziraphale began to realize he was finally willing to listen. It still made something inside him squirm at the idea that God wasn’t as all loving as he had been told for over a millennium. Yet after everything, he finally was ready to make his own choices, to choose what he believed in.

“I know you as I know myself Crowley. I would be able to recite the lines on your hand as well as my own. I think both of us know we could never be ripped apart.”

Crowley took a shuttering breath in as his arms squeezed around his middle.

“We almost were you know. You have no idea what it was like to lose you.”

“Oh, my dear.” Aziraphale’s hands moved gently over Crowley’s hair, then his forehead smoothing out the lines there.

“I will always come back to you Crowley, no matter what. I promise you my dear.” He took in a breath of his own, holding his demon as close to him as he could. “There is no better love that beckons above me.”

Crowley’s lips placed a small kiss to Aziraphale’s collar bone. It was an acknowledgement without words. They knew each other well enough at this point that there was no need for them.

They fell asleep like that, an angel and a demon side by side, clasping each other with a promise to never let go.

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