“Angel, what are you doing?”
Crowley squinted at Aziraphale through his sunglasses, watching as the other pulled different books from different shelves frantically, his own, smaller, rounded reading glasses slipping down his nose.
“Well, I just thought, you know—“ Aziraphale started, flustered, his hands waving in the air trying to demonstrate something to Crowley without actually saying it. Crowley stared at him for a beat, not moving from his sprawling position in his favorite chair of the bookshop, soft and plush and soaked in the smell of old books and dust and Aziraphale, before raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t know, actually,” he drawled, smirking. “C’mon Angel, out with it.”
Aziraphale’s hands stopped their frantic waving in the air and settled by his sides, and he sighed, the exhale slightly moving the soft tuft of hair that had fallen into his eyes. He needed a haircut, Crowley thought absentmindedly, fingers slightly twitching at the thought of running his hands through the curls on his angel’s head.
“It’s been almost 5 years, you know,” Aziraphale said, smiling softly. “Since we said forget heaven or hell, and became us.”
“I think we’ve been us for far longer than that, ‘Zira,” Crowley muttered, smiling nonetheless. “But yes, it’s almost been five years.”
“Five years is a long time.”
“I’ve loved you since before time, five years is nothing.”
Aziraphale blushed, slightly, and walked over to Crowley, placing a hand on his cheek.
“I want to do something special.”
Crowley hummed, angling his head further into Aziraphale’s warm palm. He placed a small kiss there, smiling.
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
“According to some research, and some heavenly insight, maybe,” Aziraphale said, moving his hand to Crowley’s long curls, “I think your factory may be doing something special soon.”
Crowley’s eyes widened, and he sat up, taking off his sunglasses and looking up at Aziraphale.
“I mean, I could be wrong, but—“
“You want to go somewhere and see,” Crowley whispered, cutting him off. “The stars I made, see how they’re doing.”
“I… I think it would be lovely,” Aziraphale said with a smile.
Crowley sighed, leaning back in the chair. He frowned. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be angel, literally. I can’t see the stars from here, even with the clearest night sky and no bloody light pollution.”
“Well we wouldn’t be looking at them here, darling.”
Crowley looked up at him again, realization dawning on his face.
“You want to go up there?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Tonight, if you’d like.”
———
Crowley hadn’t been in space in a long time. He also hadn’t let his wings stretch out in a while, either. Neither had Aziraphale, and Crowley caught himself staring and the bright white feathers, smiling as he noticed both he and Aziraphale had some new additions: a speckling of gray feathers throughout their wings.
They weren’t exactly standing, but not laying down, either. Space was weird, and as Aziraphale wrapped his arms and wings around him, colors exploded. The nebulae moved too quickly for the human eye, but not for them, and they watched as stars and space stuff painted them a picture. Just for them. Crowley felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he watched the colors collide and the lights shimmer.
Maybe She was giving them this. Maybe the stars just recognized Crowley. Maybe it had nothing to do with them at all, and was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time. But when Aziraphale’s lips kissed away his tears and whispered “I love you,” Crowley realized it didn’t really matter.
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