Carrying

There were many downsides to being a fallen. A minor, but inconvenient one was his inability to walk on consecrated ground. Well it wasn't that he was unable – he could do it with some effort – but it was certainly painful to do so. The shooting pains it sent up his legs were nothing to sneeze at.

Still Aziraphale had managed to get himself double (triple?) crossed by some Nazi spies. He was in danger and Crowley wasn't going to let something bad happen to his angel.

Not his, he reminded himself. His friend, but not his. And Aziraphale would probably never be his. Not in the way he wanted him to be.

Faced with the prospect of his friend's death, he decided to use a little bit of his demonic power to send a bomb to blow up the Church, leaving him and Aziraphale as the only survivors.

They didn't even discorporate.

It was then that Crowley leaned something that really should have been obvious. Holy ground is still holy ground – even if it is completely decimated and reduced to rubble. Even with all that, he was still racked with pain.

He handed Aziraphale's books back to him with a faint smile. "Thank you for helping me Crowley," said Aziraphale, noticing that something was wrong. "Are you okay?" he asked.

He hissed at the pain. "It's just… I'm still technically on consecrated ground and it- It really hurts."

Aziraphale gave him a sympathetic look. "I could carry you maybe, if that helps," he offered.

Crowley was about to refuse when another bolt of pain jumped up his leg. Suddenly desperate, he agreed. Aziraphale was surprising strong and easily held Crowley in a fireman's lift. A part of Crowley's brain wondered where Aziraphale learned how to do that.

He tried to offer Aziraphale a lift back to his shop, but Aziraphale refused, saying it would simply be too much of an inconvenience. Crowley watched Aziraphale leave, his heart filled with complicated emotions.

That dreary Friday evening, instead of Aziraphale falling for Crowley, they both fell for each other.

Even if neither of them said anything. They were far too stubborn for that.