Crowley watched his angel stop just before the elevator to Heaven, and Aziraphale turned his head towards the eyes he felt on him. He hesitated, but Crowley didn't know why. Didn't know if it mattered why, or if he was simply getting a last look at the world he was leaving behind. The look lingered, though, and Crowley noticed Aziraphale's foot move in his direction. At the same time, he looked away and back to Metatron, still awaiting him to join.

"I can't," Aziraphale's voice hadn't come out as loud as he intended, and Metatron, whether he heard him or not, asked him to repeat himself.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't accept this job. I just... Not without Crowley."

Aziraphale didn't wait for his response. He let his body carry out the urge he had to turn and walk back to the fire haired demon, who hadn't stopped watching him since he exited his shop.

Crowley shifted his weight in place, and suddenly felt a little intimidated by the person now making the hurried walk towards him. Is he going to tell me off? Demand I go with him? Are we about to have a movie moment where he lowers me in his arms and-

He stopped his thoughts from running wild. It hadn't been more than a couple hours now that he'd allowed himself to even believe his friendship of millenia could ever be more than just that. Love wasn't what demons do after all. But Crowley knew deep down he wasn't much of a demon, so what took him so long to realize he could love, too?

It probably wasn't helped by the fact that in the matter of one afternoon he had realized he was in love with his best friend, lost his best friend, had his first kiss, and had his heart broken. The idea of picturing himself in those romance movies was too much emotion for him right now. Unfortunately, by the way Aziraphale was marching toward him, Crowley doubted it was the end of the difficult emotions for the day.

Unbeknownst to him, though, Aziraphale had no intentions of confronting Crowley. In fact, he likely had every intention of delivering that movie moment if he could pluck up the courage. Neither of them were going to find out, though, because by the time the angel was halfway across the street, Metatron had stepped back out of the building and called out to him.

Aziraphale didn't turn, and didn't intend to stop, but he realized he wasn't moving anymore either. It was going against everything in his body and mind, yet still he stopped in the middle of the road. Aziraphale looked down at his feet, then back up to the cars coming towards him in the street, one now honking at him. He wanted to jump out of the way but couldn't. At least, he couldn't in the direction of Crowley. But, when he tried to move back towards Metatron, he was able to, though all he could muster was 3 unnatural side steps just out of traffic. Crowley started moving towards him without another thought, almost like Aziraphale's command to move his own feet had hit him instead.

"Aziraphale, I'd like you to come with me. Like we discussed," Metatron spoke as if he was still standing next to him despite being several paces away. But, of course he heard him, they both did. He didn't sound concerned or uncertain, just annoyed, as if speaking to an obstinate child. By his tone, there seemed to be no doubt in his mind that Aziraphale would obey him. But instead, the angel grunted, and breathed out hard before collapsing to his knees. By that time, Crowley had reached the other side of the street and immediately knelt in front of Aziraphale.

"Hey, whoa, angel. Angel, what's wrong?" he asked, putting his hands on his forearms. Aziraphale continued his labor breathing, and followed up his touch by leaning towards him and grabbing onto his arms in return as if to ask for help to hold himself up. The unexpected movement made Crowley drop down and sit on the backs of his legs. He moved his hands to hold Aziraphale's face looking at him, then to Metatron. His expression had changed, as he clearly wasn't expecting this either. It was hard to tell if the expression was more shock, anger, or something else altogether. He lifted his head, and turned back and walked into the elevator, proceeding back up to Heaven. Crowley had no idea what to make of any of it. What in Satan's name even just happened? But Aziraphale took his attention back.

He groaned again, as if a pressure had been relieved as soon as Metatron had seemingly given up. His breathing got easier, and he stopped leaning on Crowley. He put his hands on the street and closed his eyes, trying to right himself and clear his mind.
"Angel?" Crowley's voice was softer than Aziraphale had ever heard it, though he was too distracted to notice it at the time.
"Aziraphale?" he asked again, his voice firmer this time, as he had noticed, and he instinctively put up a wall to the hint of vulnerability.

"Crowley, I don't know what just happened..." his voice trailed off. The steadying breaths continued, and eventually he felt like he could lift his head. He could see Crowley's eyes through his sunglasses, but he wasn't looking at him at first. He was obviously upset, and Aziraphale saw his fingers were slightly dancing in the air as if unsure he should still have his hands on him, or be trying to comfort him at all.

The angel's heart sank a little, pained by the damage his decision had caused his oldest and dearest friend. He had always intended to refuse the offer if Crowley didn't want to come with him, but when he had told him about what Metatron said he realized how excited he was by the opportunity to actually do good, the kind of good he always dreamed about. And it suddenly seemed like the best decision he could make. It had seemed like that up until Crowley kissed him. From then on, he hadn't been clear about anything. His mind immediately went cloudy, and he couldn't finish a thought. That was until he heard Metatron had the second coming lined up for Earth next, and he had realized Crowley was right all along. It's possible some humans would be saved, but most would be just as dead as if Hell had arranged it. And when he looked back at his old friend, he realized he may never be able to look him in the eyes again if he ended up being all but responsible for it; for the very thing Crowley had warned him about. And he wouldn't want to do it without Crowley at his side even if he could. But what followed after he refused Metatron's offer, he couldn't really account for. It was like he hadn't actually been the one in control the whole time. Could that have been true? If so, how? Whatever it was, Crowley was sure Metatron knew about it. He knew something more than he let on... yet none of it made any sense. But he was gone. And they could figure out the truth later.

"Angel," his voice was back to normal now, and he put his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders to hold him up, looking in his eyes. "Are you ok? What is going on here?!"

"I'm sorry I left, Crowley. I- I don't believe I'm thinking very clearly..." he had been staring back into his eyes, but looked down as his voice trailed off, considering the weight of what exactly happened here. Then, he looked back at the fallen angel. "I never meant to go without you. I- I truly didn't. I-"

"It's fine, Aziraphale, let's just... Get you back to your shop."

Crowley started to move as if to stand up, and even shielded by tinted frames, Aziraphale knew his eyes weren't as bright as they normally were. He didn't know if Crowley believed him, but he knew he was trying to push him away now either way. He was afraid the window Crowley opened to his heart was closing, and didn't know if he could get him to open it again if it did.
Aziraphale himself had known he was in love with this demon for decades. I mean the man had saved my first edition books from certain destruction for Heaven's sake, he thought, just to be kind. But he never dared risk his friendship over it. Demons didn't love, it's what they were always told, too. A defining feature, really. He was perfectly content loving Crowley silently for the rest of his existence if he had to. But the truth was, Aziraphale had chosen his demon over Heaven many times before, and he couldn't imagine not doing it again now. Perhaps the one time it truly mattered. Not for the sake of The Great Plan, or to make sure the big office Upstairs isn't upset with him, but for the sake of himself. For both of them and the life they fought, and technically should have died for. And now, Aziraphale had what he always truly wanted: Crowley in love with him in return.

So, even though Aziraphale still couldn't even stand if he tried, and his breathing had only just returned to normal, and his mind was trying to simultaneously reevaluate the last 6000 years of this friendship, what had just happened to him, as well as what's going to happen when Metatron tells everyone Upstairs what happened, the angel knew he couldn't allow this to pass by.

"Crowley, please, just listen to me. I know-"

"Aziraphale, don't. We need to figure out what the hell just happened-"

"Crowley, stop. Please, listen to m-"

"Angel, enough, just get up. Come on."

"No, wa-"

Crowley rocked back onto his feet and started to stand. He didn't get beyond a crouch, though, before Aziraphale grabbed his hands and pulled him back down, intending for his lips to find his own somehow. The force from the pull, however, was too strong, and Aziraphale had ended up kissing Crowley's chest. More than that, the force was enough to knock both of them back onto the side of the road. This time it was Aziraphale's turn to imagine he was about to have a movie moment. He noticed Crowley was able to catch himself in time, but saw too late it was with both arms. He was in fact not going to catch him too, and Aziraphale fell back, hitting his head on the ground.

"A... Ow," Aziraphale said sheepishly.

Crowley sighs, muttering "angel," under his breath, and finally taking off his sunglasses to look at him. "Are you alright?"

Aziraphale responds with muttering of his own, but even he isn't sure if he tried to say "yes," or "no." He takes a deep breath, and looks up at him.

"Crowley. I'm so sorry."

The demon just looked back in return. He didn't know how to respond, or if he should. In fact, it seemed like today was the first day in a very long time where there was so much he didn't know. He sighed again.

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and swallowed the lump in his throat. He tilts his head slightly, giving Crowley a look as if to apologize once again. For a minute they both said nothing, but Crowley didn't try to move either. The angel isn't sure what he's going to do next, as his expression is as neutrally pissed off as it ever is in public.

Suddenly, he growled, "Blessit, angel."

Just then he sat back a little, alerting Aziraphale to the fact that Crowley was actually sitting on his thighs now, but before he could allow himself a glance to ensure he wasn't just imagining it, Crowley grabbed him by his jacket again, gentler this time, and quickly closed the space between them, pressing his lips to his angel's.

This wasn't like their first kiss. The demon still had every bit of his fierce passion, but he seemed more sure. Or maybe that's just because Aziraphale was. The fair haired man immediately took his face in his hands and kissed him back. He wasn't going to let doubt ruin things again, and this seemed like the quickest way to tell Crowley he had none. Not anymore. And that he never knew why he did. He moved one hand to the back of Crowley's neck, trying to ensure they could be done discussing it for now. That's all they had ever done was discuss things. But this was new. And new was rare for them.
Crowley couldn't deny, he was surprised. He had thought maybe he lied to himself when he swore he felt Aziraphale's lips meet his chest and not his forehead; that he had intended for a kiss all along. But he figured their friendship couldn't end twice, so if he was wrong, then so be it. To his pleasant surprise, he was right. Aziraphale was eager for this kiss, and not long after it began he sat up, not parting lips with Crowley.

When it was clear to them both they were going to indulge the embrace, the angel slowly moved his hands down to the thighs resting on either side of him. At the same time, Crowley moved to cup his face. It was the first time since he fell that he truly felt himself soften.

Despite Aziraphale's nature, he never tried to change the way the demon approached the world, or himself. And Crowley was never cruel, but nobody would mistake him for gentle. That is, unless their first impression of him had been right now. Right now, Crowley had all the grace and grit of a lovestruck teenage girl. Really, if any of the several passersby had seen this entire interaction they'd assume these two had finally lost their minds. But actually, no one seemed to notice any of it. In fact, from the instant Aziraphale had made up his mind, there seemed to have been a miracle that, unknown to the entwined couple, had started to grow. A miracle that a human wouldn't notice, of course, but one that the former boss of a certain immortal man surely would.

And Metatron did. By the time he had made it back to the main office, the glow following the ray of light from this miracle was visible before the display of Earth was. He knew immediately what it was, as he did the first time it happened. It was exactly what he was trying to avoid. After checking if anyone else was around, and assuring there wasn't, at least no one bright enough to see, he removed the miracle alert from this and all Earth displays. He sighed. Clearly that demon was going to be more of a problem than he thought. A problem that needed to be removed before anyone else notices the danger posed.
Even if Metatron had intended to send an army of angels to stop them right then and there, it's doubtful the targets would have noticed. In truth, Crowley and Aziraphale probably could have sat there just like that in an attempt to make up for years and years of lost touches for the foreseeable future. Perhaps they would have, but something in the angel made him want to take Crowley back to his shop. This time, he hoped he wouldn't want to leave.

Reluctantly, Aziraphale broke the kiss, but moved to press their foreheads together instead.

"Let's go inside," he said softly.

Crowley was slow to open his eyes again, and when he did, his angel saw his eyes were now brighter than they'd ever been, like a milky sunset that probably could have nearly blinded a human, and his slit pupils were dilated.

"Angel..." he was slightly breathless, and looked away after he spoke. The urge to keep himself emotionally closed off to this possibility was not something a kiss, even such a miraculous kiss as this was, could eliminate. Even though Crowley didn't know it, he had loved Aziraphale for a long time, too. But what he had said to him, after his thinly veiled attempt to get the angel to not leave him, was still ringing in his ears. Nothing lasts forever. Hearing it from someone who can't actually die felt more personal, honestly. Hearing it from the person who had been at his side for the small piece of forever they carved out, the only person he'd ever been able to trust, it felt like it had to be true and any contradicting affirmation from Aziraphale in the future made it null and void - something only time would prove to be untrue. And he couldn't let that happen. Couldn't allow himself to get hurt again. Crowley could endure Armageddon a thousand times, but he didn't know if he could endure losing his friend, his heart even once more.

He wanted to explain this, but when he looked back up at the icy gray eyes almost pleading with him, he couldn't. He didn't want to ruin the moment, sure, but more than that. Crowley realized he'd rather have his angel how he's always wanted him even just for 5 minutes until history repeated itself, and live the rest of eternity anguished, than to be the one doing the heart breaking. No, the truth is he'd rather swan dive into holy water than to be the one to make Aziraphale feel that same kind of heartache.

So, he said nothing. He just nodded, and moved to stand up, his hand staying on Aziraphale's arm in one fluid movement sliding down to lace his fingers with his own. He helped him up, leaving any dirt the angel may have gotten on his clothes on the ground as he did.

Once standing, Aziraphale started for his shop, Crowley close behind. He opened the door for his fallen angel to lead him inside, but Crowley didn't let him drop his hand. He turned to lock eyes with Aziraphale as he walked past him, then pulled into the shop behind him and back into his arms. And this time, their lips were drawn together like magnets.