#I'm writing them as alloromantic asexual because this is actually just therapy through writing for 29 ^_^

[29-pieces]

After the Ritz, pt 2 -- Good Omens snippet

“Erm, I can, y’know… go first,” Crowley hedged when Aziraphale didn’t say anything. “If you like.”

He always had been the braver one of the two, Aziraphale thought with a swell of even deeper affection. He nodded, reaching for the bottle of wine, but Crowley took it out of his hand and set it on the table.

“No,” the demon said softly. “Sober. So you know.”

The intensity in both his voice and golden eyes left Aziraphale breathless, and he wordlessly nodded again.

“I love you, Aziraphale. I think… I think I always have. Didn’t know it, you know, couldn’t have, reckoned it wasn’t possible for someone like me. It was the— the Garden. Really didn’t expect you’d actually fancy a chat, but then…” Crowley laughed, a telltale hint of wateriness to it. “You gave away your sword, what in Someone’s name, you really were something else, Aziraphale. And I just… I don’t know how to explain it. I couldn’t control it, certainly wasn’t looking for it, I just knew there was… I don’t know, there was a connection.”

“I didn’t know what to think,” Aziraphale replied honestly with a foggy smile. He looked up at Crowley through damp lashes, suddenly bashful. “You weren’t at all what I was bracing for. I thought you must be trying to catch me off guard, you know, but then you really did just want to talk. Not an ounce of hostility anywhere to be found. I had to scold myself quite soundly for assuming the worst, when truly you didn’t seem malicious, so much as… well, I suppose… lonely.”

Crowley looked away, a bit of the intensity in his snake eyes fading. “S’pose I was,” he muttered. “Anyway, it took a while for me to figure it out, and even then I knew I couldn’t say it. I knew how dangerous it was. I never wanted to put you at risk, angel, didn’t want anyone upstairs thinking there was even a chance I might actually… you know, corrupt you or anything, or that would have been it for you."

“I suppose at the very least I would have been reassigned,” Aziraphale agreed, not missing the flash of fury in Crowley. He sighed. “Very well, then, yes, there’s also a chance they might have… simply silenced me, if they thought it was too late.”

Something dark and unintelligible spilled from Crowley’s lips, but he brushed it aside in favor of hesitantly reaching for Aziraphale’s hand and catching it in his own.

“I couldn’t say it before,” he repeated. “But I can now, and I’m going to. I love you. It’s really that simple.”

A warm flush that had nothing to do with the wine burned in Aziraphale’s heart and radiated out like sunlight. He didn’t realize he was actually exuding that light until Crowley broke the mood by squinting a bit, to which Aziraphale squeaked in embarrassment.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Crowley said, barely biting back the grin. Then, he coughed. “Anyway, erm… that’s me, then.”

Right, which meant it was his turn now. Knowing how Crowley felt about him at least took some of the unfathomable terror out of putting himself on the line, perhaps to be scorned or rejected, so Aziraphale took a deep, bolstering breath.

“I… I don’t know when I first really knew it,” he confessed. “Quite early. I felt connected to you, as well. How could we not be? The only two ethereal beings—”

“Occult.”

“—ethereal beings, running around with the humans at all their biggest happenings. You were always there, I couldn’t seem to shake you, and it wasn’t long before I truly didn’t want to. It was comforting, you know. Just… just knowing there was someone else down here who… I don’t know, understood.”

Aziraphale had had human friends in his long life, of course, and very dear little things they were. But there was no use pretending it was ever the same. It couldn’t have been, those fragile creatures who lived and died in the blink of an eye.

Not like Crowley. Steadfast, stalwart, fickle and ever-changing Crowley, who shed his look like he shed his skin and yet was always exactly the same underneath. And when Aziraphale needed him, really needed a chat or a rescue, it was always Crowley who was there.

Aziraphale swallowed. “I started hoping I’d see you around, got worried sometimes when I didn’t. And I know, my dear, I know I behaved simply awfully sometimes, the things I said to you, but— but I do hope you know… it was only ever to play the charade. I never, never counted myself above you. I never thought I was holier—”

“Go on, you know you did.”

“Alright, but only by a matter of definition, and not by character. I don’t know when precisely I began to think of it as love. By the time the word came to mind, the feeling had already been there too long to tell.” Bracing his courage, Aziraphale took Crowley’s free hand in his own. “And I can say it now, too. And I do love you, Crowley. It was devilishly tricky to hide it sometimes, and I do wish I hadn’t hid it so well from you, but there it is.”

Crowley exhaled, cheeks turning a delightful pink that shot straight up into the tips of his ears.

“Well,” he said. “Erm… yeah, it— it’s good to hear.”

The two looked at each other, the silence extending for a long moment between them as though both were bracing for the possible coming retribution of such a declaration. Nothing happened, though. No bolt of vengeful lightning, no uproar from Heaven or Hell, no celestial armies at the door to put an end to such things. All was quiet. All was well. If anything, the world felt… lighter, brighter, more full of hope than Aziraphale had felt in… ever. It was frankly overwhelming. Aziraphale heard himself laugh once, then he was weeping yet again.

“Alright, then,” Crowley said from somewhere beside him, still as patient as the day was long. “Reckon that’s enough for the moment. You should get some rest, angel."

He sniffled and nodded, then froze when Crowley released his hands.

“Wait,” he blurted out. “Don’t… don’t go?”

Crowley stilled beside him. “You want me to stay?”

“Won’t you, dear? I just… I’m feeling a tad… that is… I don’t know what I—”

“It’s alright, angel. Look, why don’t you stretch out on the sofa and I’m going to curl up in the chair. Don’t feel like going back outside anyway. Too bloody cold, ask me.”

It was, as always, absurdly transparent, but Aziraphale was no less grateful for it. He had never really been one for “sleep”, but at the moment he was feeling quite exhausted in a bone-weary way he’d never known before. Both a tremendous weight and an unbelievable lightness battled within him, but the heaviness was starting to win. Aziraphale felt Crowley shift, felt the hands guiding his shoulders down until he was lying on the cozy pillow of the sofa. A blanket fell over him, then hypnotic golden eyes were meeting his.

“Jussst ssssleep for a while,” a soft voice hissed in the most soothing tones to wind through Aziraphale’s heart. “We’ll talk more in the morning. Good night… Azzssssiraphale.”