Aziraphale was halfway through the seventh draft of his love confession when there came a relentless knocking at the front door. Frustrated, he threw his pen down before getting to his feet. He glanced at the clock on the wall - 3pm already! The speech was taking longer to write than he'd anticipated and he'd not even thought about preparing dinner yet.

He froze when he reached the front of the bookshop. Through the window set into the door he could see Crowley with his face pressed against the glass.

But Aziraphale wasn't ready! He hadn't finished his speech! He'd told Crowley to come over at 5pm! Good gracious, what was he going to do?

Aziraphale considered running away into the backroom and hoping Crowley hadn't noticed him but Crowley was still knocking urgently. Worried that something was wrong, Aziraphale opened the door.

"I'm sssorry, angel!" Crowley blurted out. His face was red and his eyes were watery.

"Pardon?"

"This is all my fault 'n 'm sorry!"

"What's your fault?" Aziraphale could smell alcohol on Crowley's breath. "You're as tight as a boiled owl!"

"Nnh…"

"And in the middle of the day too! Come inside." Aziraphale pulled Crowley into the shop, trying his best to ignore the passersby who were gawking at them. Aziraphale closed and then locked the door before turning to face Crowley, who was now leaning against the wall - but not in his usual suave manner. No. The wall seemed to be the only thing currently keeping him upright.

"What's the matter?" asked Aziraphale. "What happened?"

Crowley looked at him and swallowed. He pushed himself away from the wall and staggered for a moment before Aziraphale caught his arm to steady him.

"I know you're upset with me and I don't blame you," Crowley said.

Aziraphale stared at him, confused. "I'm not upset."

"I should never have gotten you involved! It's my fault they see you as a traitor and keep trying to kill you! It's my fault Gabriel attacked you yesterday! You were kicked out of Heaven because of me! I don't know how to make it right. I don't-"

Aziraphale took Crowley's face in his hands. "Crowley, listen to me. Nothing that happened is your fault. I helped thwart the apocalypse because I wanted to, because it was the right thing to do. It was my own decision and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."

"R- Really?" Crowley smiled fondly but then he looked confused. "But I know you're upset with me… Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset. Why on Earth do you think I'm upset with you?"

"You've been weird for weeks. Ever since we spent that day and night apart. And you were so keen to leave this morning and I thought… I thought..."

"No, Crowley, my dear. I'm not upset with you. Far from it. You're my dearest friend."

Crowley's lip wobbled. "You're my best friend!"

Aziraphale smiled. "I'm sorry for making you worry. I know I've been rather out of sorts recently, but that's certainly not your fault." Aziraphale sighed. "It's about time I explained, but I have to insist you sober up first."

Crowley stared at him with wide eyes. "So there is something wrong then?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just a little bit embarrassing for me, that's all. But I was actually planning to tell you tonight. I was just trying to find the right words."

"I'm sorry."

"You've got nothing to apologise for, my dear."

"You're allowed to have secrets, you know. You don't have to tell me if you're not ready. I'll go home if you want."

"What I want is for you to sober up and join me in the backroom for tea and biscuits. Does that sound alright?"

Crowley smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

Aziraphale smiled back and then led Crowley into the backroom, his heart racing at the thought of everything he was about to tell him.

Crowley winced as the alcohol left his bloodstream, sobriety hitting him full force. The fuzzy edges to the world vanished, leaving him feeling small and horribly self-aware.

His cheeks - already ruddy after his uncontrollable sobbing - were now bright red with embarrassment. He'd made an arse of himself. He'd been trying so hard to keep quiet about his concerns, and now he'd gone and blurted it all out like a madman. At least Aziraphale wasn't upset with him. But there was still something wrong and Crowley couldn't relax until he knew what it was.

They were in the backroom, Crowley on the sofa, Aziraphale in his armchair by his desk.

"Are you sober now?" Aziraphale asked.

"Yep," said Crowley. "Sorry for, um, barging in like that."

Aziraphale scrutinised him for a moment before seeming to decide that Crowley was indeed sober. "Not to worry," said Aziraphale with a nervous smile. "Right. Well. No point in beating about the bush. I'd best get on with it. And don't look so serious. This is nothing to worry about." He picked up several sheets of paper from the table and started to shuffle through them.

"What're they for?" Crowley asked curiously.

"It's a speech. I was going to… Oh bother, never mind." Aziraphale pushed the papers to one side and sat back in his seat. He looked Crowley in the eye, blushed, and then stared intently at his shoes.

"It's alright," Crowley said gently.

Aziraphale suddenly launched into what sounded very much like a rehearsed speech.

"We're free from Heaven and Hell now. Free to do whatever we like. There were such a lot of things I wasn't allowed to do before. Things that I couldn't, er…" Aziraphale trailed off. He started twisting his hands together.

Crowley stayed quiet, patiently waiting for Aziraphale to get to the point. He suspected that Aziraphale was trying to explain that he was still struggling with the guilt of being such close friends with a demon in such an open way. Aziraphale had spent so long keeping him at arm's length, fearing his superiors finding out about their friendship, and it must be difficult to let go of that fear.

"So- Um. Yes," Aziraphale continued. "I was finally free to try new things. Things that had always seemed forbidden before. So after we… I'm sorry, this is coming out all wrong."

"It's alright. Take your time, there's no rush. And you don't have to share this if you don't feel ready, okay?"

Aziraphale glanced at his papers, and then he stared down at his hands where they were clasped together on his knees. "The truth is... And promise me you won't laugh."

"I promise, angel," said Crowley, giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"When we had that day and night apart I, er… I decided to find out what all the fuss was about regarding having a libido."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up. It had never even crossed his mind that this might be what Aziraphale was struggling with. He found himself momentarily lost for words, cheeks prickling with heat.

Aziraphale let out a nervous laugh. "It took quite some getting used to, I can tell you."

Crowley nodded, trying to seem cool and unfazed while silently screaming inside. "Okay. Yeah. That's- Good for you."

Aziraphale dipped his head. "Terribly embarrassing. I'm sure you can understand why I never said anything."

"Yep. Yes. Thanks for telling me. You've nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I know I've said some awful things in the past - that lust is a sin and all that nonsense - but I didn't understand back then. It's a gift from above, I know that now."

Crowley couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lip. "I'm glad you've seen the light, as it were."

Aziraphale chuckled, still with his head lowered coyly, unable to look him in the eye. "I'm going to put the kettle on. I did promise you tea and biscuits after all."

Aziraphale left the room and then bustled about in the kitchenette, leaving Crowley alone with his thoughts. It was so obvious now. The awkwardness, the distance, the need for time alone. How had he not seen the signs? Crowley had so many questions but he didn't dare any of them. What he wanted to know most of all was: did Aziraphale have romantic feelings him? It was something that had seemed impossible only moments ago. The idea of it left him excited and terrified all at once.

By the time Aziraphale came back into the room, Crowley's heart was racing. The angel placed a tea tray on the side table between before sitting back down in his armchair. He had a worried look on his face. It was clear there was something else on his mind.

"What's up, angel?"

Aziraphale took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "There's something else I need to tell you. Something I need to confess."

Crowley sat forwards, gripping his knees tightly. Aziraphale looked so nervous and embarrassed. Was this it? Was Aziraphale about to confess to being in love with him? Crowley's palms felt sweaty. Hope was swelling inside of him but he quickly pushed it down again. All too often, hope only ended in disappointment.

"I- I need you to know that I'm terribly sorry," Aziraphale said.

Oh. Not a love confession then. In fact, it sounded like the opposite. It seemed Aziraphale was about to let him down gently. It would hurt to know that Aziraphale didn't have romantic feelings for him but, to be fair, that it was what he'd assumed all along anyway.

"It was an accident," Aziraphale blurted out. "I never meant for it to happen. The night before our executions I fell asleep in your flat. I only meant to rest my eyes for a moment but somehow I drifted off."

Aziraphale looked deeply ashamed, and it broke Crowley's heart. But he couldn't understand why Aziraphale was feeling so guilty. Did he believe he'd wasted time by sleeping instead of practicing being him?

Aziraphale started wringing his hands together. "You said that I could go in your bedroom so I decided to lie down there."

"That's okay. You know I don't mind you being in my bed. And I don't blame you for having a nap – it'd been a very long day."

Aziraphale wouldn't meet his eye. "I felt perfectly normal when I fell asleep. But something happened and when I woke up-" He couldn't finish the sentence. He hunched over and put his head in his hands. "I must have…accidentally… in my sleep."

Crowley's eyebrows flew up his face as realisation dawned. He kept his voice calm. "You had a wet dream?"

Aziraphale nodded, head still lowered. "I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I should have let you alter my body when you wanted to."

"You had every right to say no. It's your body."

"And you had every right to not have sexuality forced upon you," Crowley said miserably, feeling angry with himself. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Aziraphale looked up at him, guilt in his eyes. "I understand if it feels like a violation."

"No," Crowley said firmly. "It doesn't. Not at all. This wasn't your fault."

How could he even begin to explain that Aziraphale was the only person he'd ever trust with his body, with his life, with his broken and battered soul? And besides, it wasn't like he did it on purpose. Crowley trusted him completely. He just felt bad for Aziraphale. This must have been eating him up inside.

Despite Crowley's sympathy and his shock, he still felt a surge of arousal at the thought of it. Of Aziraphale finding pleasure in his body, of knowing exactly what it felt like when he came, of experiencing it in his bed. It must have been the first orgasm he'd ever had. There was something thrilling about that, but he pushed the thought away guiltily, trying to concentrate on what Aziraphale needed right now.

"I'd been so worried about telling you," Aziraphale said, looking up at him, cheeks pink.

"You can tell me anything, angel. You've got nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about."

Aziraphale smiled. "Really?"

Crowley smiled back and attempted a nonchalant shrug.

Aziraphale was looking up at him from under long eyelashes. "You know, while we're telling secrets… I've been thinking a lot about that time you kissed me in the early 1800s. Do you remember? We were both rather tipsy."

The breath caught on Crowley's throat. Of course he remembered - it filled him with intense embarrassment every time he thought back on it. He swallowed, mouth dry, and nodded.

Aziraphale gave him a flirtatious look and Crowley's stomach summersaulted.

"I think if you were to do it again... Well..." Aziraphale gave him a nervous but hopeful smile.

Crowley's brain short circuited. This didn't feel real. He knew he'd been silent for too long when Aziraphale hurriedly spoke again.

"Unless you've changed your mind? It was over a century ago, after all. I understand if your feelings towards me have changed-"

"No! No, of course not. I still feel the same. But... are you sure you want to kiss me? It's only been, what? Er. A few weeks? Are you sure you want to? With me?"

"I'm sure." Aziraphale said, his eyes lighting up. "I want to kiss you. I want to touch you. Are you alright, my dear? Perhaps I haven't explained my feelings properly."

Crowley's heart was racing, his pulse loud in his ears. "No, you did good. It's just a lot to take in, is all. I never thought... I never thought you'd want this."

In his fantasies, this moment happened differently. He'd always pictured himself sweeping Aziraphale off his feet, being cool and suave instead of a nervous wreck. He'd imagined fireworks and romance.

But Aziraphale was smiling at him and Crowley couldn't help but smile back. In fact, he was pretty sure he'd been grinning like an idiot this entire time.

"Can we kiss now?" Aziraphale asked hopefully.

Crowley laughed and rolled his eyes. "Of course we can." He got to his feet and had barely managed to take a step before Aziraphale was out of his armchair and on him, kissing him eagerly. Crowley felt mesmerised by the intimacy of it, by the softness and heat of Aziraphale's lips. This was all so new and surreal. For a moment Crowley was convinced that he must be dreaming but he knew what his dreams felt like and this wasn't one of them. He wouldn't be feeling so nervous for a start.

When they pulled apart, Aziraphale had a blissful smile on his face and his cheeks were flushed. "Oh," he said dreamily. "Oh, yes, that was lovely."

A weak sound escaped Crowley's throat and he found himself unable to do much except grin stupidly. Aziraphale leant in and kissed him again, and Crowley melted into it.

Aziraphale pulled back. "Oh, bother, I forgot the most important part of the whole speech! How terribly daft of me." He gave Crowley an adoring smile. "I love you."

Crowley's heart fluttered and he let out a shaky breath. "I love you."

Aziraphale wiggled happily and then kissed him again. "Would you like to help me with dinner? I was thinking of doing a roast."

"Sure, angel," Crowley said breathlessly.

They walked towards the kitchenette, side by side, and when Aziraphale's hand snuck into his own Crowley thought his heart would burst.

"Oh, isn't this lovely," Aziraphale said. "Wonderful choice, my dear."

They were at the fanciest, most romantic restaurant Crowley had been able to find. The lights were low and there were candles on the tables.

He needed this to be perfect.

It was the day after Aziraphale's confession.

Yesterday, they'd shared a lovely dinner and then snogged for most of the evening on the sofa before retiring to the bedroom – to sleep, though there had indeed been more snogging there. He'd fallen asleep in Aziraphale's arms like something out of a romantic film. This morning Aziraphale had brought him breakfast in bed - coffee and pancakes. He couldn't believe this was his life now.

While Aziraphale had been busy with a book delivery that afternoon, Crowley had returned back to his flat and immediately got to work planning the perfect date.

He'd spent an extraordinary amount of time worrying about what to wear. What did people even wear on dates? And finally he'd settled on a shirt and tie. He used gel in his hair for extra volume, applied chapstick, and then drank a few shots of whisky to steady his nerves. When he'd arrived at the bookshop with flowers Aziraphale had told he looked handsome, and he was still reeling from that now.

Crowley's hands were sweaty as he picked up the menu. He'd never been on a date before and he didn't know how he was supposed to behave. Polite? Flirty? He felt out of his depth.

"Crowley?"

Crowley jerked his head up. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah. I'm great!"

"It's just… You seem tense."

He was ruining it already. "Sorry."

"No need to apologise, my dear." Aziraphale reached over and placed his hand over Crowley's where it lay on the table.

Crowley smiled nervously. "I just want to get this right, that's all."

"We could be in McDonald's right now and I'd be happy, so long as I was with you."

Crowley gave him a sappy smile. "No, you wouldn't. You'd hate it."

Aziraphale sniffed. "I like the flurry things."

"Mcflurry. Yeah, they're pretty good." He felt a bit better, the tightness in his chest easing up. "I guess I'm just a bit new to this whole 'relationship' thing. I wanna get it right."

"It's new to me too. I'm imagining it being the same as what we had before, except with more kissing." He paused and glanced around them furtively before leaning closer and lowering his voice. "And more nudity too." He wiggled an eyebrow.

Crowley made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "Bloody Hell, angel, you can't just say stuff like that - and in public!" He bit his lower lip and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "I'm down for that. Obviously."

Aziraphale looked pleased with himself. He squeezed Crowley's hand. "It's cute when you do that."

"Cute?! I'm not cute," Crowley spat. "When I do what exactly? Look embarrassed?"

"Yes, that too. But I was referring to the way you bite your lower lip. It's rather sexy."

Crowley felt flustered. He wasn't used to Aziraphale flirting so blatantly. Or using words like 'sexy.'

Aziraphale looked ashamed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess I just got a bit carried away."

"No, no. Tell me more about how sexy I am."

"You fiend!"

Crowley wanted to kiss him. Which he could do now. Whenever he wanted. So he leant across the table and did just that.