Hey guys! This fic was inspired by a comparison photo of Michael Sheen in Good Omens and in the Twilight Saga. It made me think about if Aziraphale 'fell' what would happen. This was originally going to be longer and more about Aziraphale turning into a demon, but I decided to go in a different direction with it.
I hope you all enjoy it, much love xox
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It wasn't anywhere near late enough to be awake yet. The birds hadn't even begun their racket outside, and yet Crowley was awake. He didn't know what had awoken him but he was not happy about it, he had been having the loveliest dream about a certain-
There was suddenly a loud knock on the door that roused the demon from his thoughts. He groaned and rolled over checking the time on his clock and grumbled miserably in doing so. Who the hell was knocking on his door at this ungodly hour?
Crowley was in half a mind to just ignore the person and go back to sleep, but another knock made him sit upright out of frustration alone. He tossed back the warm covers and slid his feet to the floor. He picked up his black silk dressing gown and pulled it over his bare shoulders as he stormed out of the room.
The person knocked again, more urgently this time, before he made it to the front door, "Alright, alright, I'm coming," Crowley called out exasperatedly and forgot to grab his glasses before yanking the front door open, "this had better be- oh, Angel…" all aggravation left him as he saw Aziraphale standing in his doorway looking a little worse for wear.
"Crowley, I am so sorry to disturb you at this early hour, but, but, I just don't know what to do or where else to go…" Aziraphale didn't meet Crowley's eyes, but instead gazed at the floor intently.
"Come in Angel, tell me what's wrong," Crowley moved back to let Aziraphale in, it hurt his heart a little to see his friend so upset.
"Oh, thank you," the angel squeaked as he glanced at Crowley, giving his silky, blood red pyjama pants and matching black gown a once over. He probably would have made a comment about them had he not been too preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Once inside, Aziraphale didn't sit down, but started pacing instead, he seemed anxious, and perhaps a bit panicky.
Crowley closed the door and came to stand in front of the pacing angel, "You're acting weird, what's wrong Aziraphale?"
"Do you want to have a drink? We should have a drink, or maybe get some breakfast, I know a nice little-"
"Aziraphale," Crowley cut him off sternly, the angel could never just come out with something, and it was too early for this.
Aziraphale sighed and it was as if all of his cheeriness drained out of him with it, then he plopped down onto the lounge. Crowley thought he was finally going to get on with it, but the angel just put his face in his hands and stayed quiet. Crowley tried to be patient as he knelt down in front of Aziraphale and pried his hands away.
"C'mon Angel, talk to me," requested Crowley gently, still holding Aziraphale's hands.
His effort was rewarded with a downward gaze and a single tear rolling down Aziraphale's cheek, "I-I-I'm not…" his voice was so soft that Crowley could hardly hear him.
"Not what?"
"Not an…an angel anymore!" Aziraphale blurted out the last part and then began to sob quietly.
Crowley was immensely confused, maybe he should've gotten them drinks; he could use a black coffee right about now, he couldn't remember having ever seen Aziraphale cry before, "What do you mean you're not an angel?"
"T-they," Crowley knew he meant Heaven, "they found out about our arrangement, and," Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, "and they accused me of working for Hell, and then they, they…" he couldn't stop the tears; it would just be easier to show Crowley.
The next thing Crowley knew Aziraphale had manifested his wings and immediately he knew what Heaven had done to his beautiful angel. The magnificent plumage was no longer flawlessly white; his wings had turned the dark grey of storm clouds. No bright light shone down on Aziraphale, he had no unnatural glow; the angel had been cut off from Heaven, he was 'falling.'
"Oh," Crowley gasped; he didn't know what to say. Aziraphale was so proud to be an angel, he was the best angel; the rest of them were dicks as far as Crowley was concerned.
"I don't want to become a demon!" Aziraphale sobbed as he retracted his wings, "I don't belong in Hell, I want to be an angel."
"Hey now, it's going to be alright. You'll always be my angel," Crowley tried. He knew it was his selfish nature, but he couldn't help thinking that now that they were on the same side it was possible for them to pursue something more serious between them.
"That's very sweet of you," Aziraphale sighed, his still voice wobbly, as he procured a hanky from one of his pockets and dabbed his cheeks and eyes.
"It's true," Crowley assured him with a knee squeeze, "think of all of the good things that can come of this."
The hand with the hanky froze, "Good things?!" Aziraphale asked incredulously.
He knew he should be cursing Heaven and vowing to get revenge or to try anything to get Aziraphale his fluffy white wings and halo back, but he was a selfish, snaky demon after all, "Yes, we can openly work together now, we are allowed to be friends, to be seen together. After so many centuries we can finally-uh," he had been about to say that they could be together like he'd always wanted to be from the moment he had laid eyes on the angel in The Garden. He'd never brought it up though since he knew that Aziraphale would never go for it because of who they worked for, but now was their chance.
Crowley rose from the floor, suddenly very aware of their close proximity; it was a dangerous place to be. The demon had paused for too long though; Aziraphale was looking up at him curiously, the tears dried up, but his features were still melancholy.
"Tea?"
"Huh? Oh, um, yes alright," Aziraphale thought it an oddly sudden change of subject, but let it go for now. He was still frazzled, and tea did sound divine.
Instead of just miracling the tea into existence, Crowley escaped to the kitchen to make the hot beverage, but mostly to buy himself time. He didn't know what to do, or say for that matter. He wanted to be with Aziraphale, wanted it more than anything, had wanted it for a bloody long time. Was now the right time though? Aziraphale seemed extremely upset, perhaps he should wait. He had waited long enough. What if Aziraphale didn't feel the same? No, surely he did. The way those bright eyes looked at him, the way his smile lit up his face whenever Crowley did something nice for him.
Bugger it; he was going to do it.
Crowley finished making the tea with a snap of his fingers and hurried back out to his waiting friend. Aziraphale held out his hand for a mug but instead Crowley put the steaming mugs on the coffee table and clutched those soft hands in his own as he sat down next to Aziraphale.
"Listen Angel, I've got to tell you something…"
"I rather thought you were already telling me something before the tea interruption. I believe it was along the lines of 'we can do everything we've ever wanted to do together,'" Aziraphale glanced down at their hands and stroked his thumb over the back of Crowley's hand, "I find that while I am very upset about…about not being an angel anymore," his face crinkled like he was going to cry again, but then he sniffled and continued, "I am quite fond of the idea of 'together,'" he peeked up at Crowley through long lashes and a shy smile tipped the corners of his lips up.
Crowley stared for a moment, it took his reptile brain a long moment to process what Aziraphale had just said, "Are you…? I- Aziraphale…" he whispered softly. He couldn't form the words he needed so he just leant in and kissed his angel, gently at first, but the more Aziraphale responded the more enthusiastic the kiss became.
Minutes flew by, and by the time they finally came up for air Crowley was straddling Aziraphale's lap, his lips tingling. Aziraphale was sporting a hickey under his left ear and his hair was even more dishevelled than when he had arrived.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for," Crowley admitted, his forked tongue darted out to lick his lips; he revelled in the fact that he could taste his angel on them.
"Probably about as long as I have my dear," Aziraphale grinned and kissed his cheek.
Crowley felt boneless, he had finally gotten the only thing he'd truly ever wanted; his angel. He stared into bright eyes and heard himself say, "I love you Aziraphale," he froze when he realised what he'd said.
Aziraphale positively beamed, and Crowley realised that the glow that seemed to surround Aziraphale wasn't because he was an angel; it was merely the celestial being shining so brightly that it could be seen through his corporation, "I love you also, Crowley dearest."
The demon visibly relaxed with a joyful sigh. It wasn't long until they found each other's lips again. Minutes turned into hours as they slowly explored each other; the tea sat forgotten on the coffee table.