"You're my sunshine,
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true.
I really love you.
You're my best friend."
- "You're My Best Friend," Queen.
After the Apocalypse-That-Never-Was, Crowley was at the happiest point of his life since before he was even a servant of Heaven. While still a demon, Crowley was no longer employed as part of Hell's services. Both sides were leaving him well enough alone. So, he was finally free to do as he wished. No temptations required.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. What made Crowley happiest was that he was not alone in his freedom. Aziraphale was in the same boat. And Aziraphale was Crowley's biggest source of temptation. But they were together, and that was what Crowley had wanted for the longest of times.
So, he and Aziraphale had found other ways to fill their time without any tasks from superiors under or over them. Mostly that consisted of dates, leisurely walks through the park feeding pigeons and ducks, nicking reservations at expensive restaurants to indulge in only the finest cuisine, hopping over the Channel to take their time enjoying the rest of Europe.
Occasionally they went back to Tadfield just to check and see that no one was making trouble for Adam. But he was normal now, so there really wasn't any chance of that. Still, Aziraphale liked to visit because of the love in the area. It made Crowley more than a little jealous to see the angel close his eyes and just bask like a cat in a patch of sunshine.
But there was a certain charm about the place. It reminded Crowley of Eden. So, they would visit, taking at least a drive through the area about every six months or so. Tadfield was always charming in the summer, but around Christmas when it was blanketed with snow, it was as perfectly picturesque as a postcard. And according to Aziraphale, they had the best hot cocoa.
More often though, they would check in Warlock Dowling, the boy they grew so fond of during their time watching over him. Warlock turned out to be a fine young loud with their influence, as perfectly normal as Adam now was. They only stopped visiting him when his family had to return to America. Aziraphale actually cried. Crowley did, too, but you'd never be able to tell because of his sunglasses, but Aziraphale knew.
There it was then. Life for Crowley with Aziraphale was perfect. Well, almost. Nearly so.
It was on one of the holiday drives back home from Tadfield that Crowley first felt that something was missing. They were in the Bentley, of course, and Crowley was driving with Aziraphale in the passenger seat with a half-full Styrofoam cup of hot cocoa, generously topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. "Please don't spill it, Aziraphale," Crowley reminded him for what was perhaps the fifteenth time, but was actually only the third. "I'll never be able to get the stickiness off the seats. Also, are you aware of how environmentally destructive those things are? Takes forever to decompose."
"Oh, pish-posh. A small miracle would take care of any spill and the cup just fine, Crowley. Don't be so dramatic." Aziraphale licked some whipped cream from his top lip, and Crowley watched with covetous eyes. "You wouldn't have to worry about me spilling it if you would keep your eyes on the road!"
"Calm down, my angel," Crowley snorted and lazily dragged his eyes back to the road. The snow seemed to miraculously leap away from the tires before the Bentley even touched it, piling up neatly on the sides of the road. "I've never had an accident before, have I?"
"You did hit Anathema Device with your car," Aziraphale reminded him.
"Uh, technically, she hit my car so. Doesn't count."
"Mhm," Aziraphale dropped it and reached for the radio dial. "Do you think we can listen to some Christmas music?"
"For a bit, but it won't last as you know. What kind of Christmas music?"
"I was hoping for just some classical kind. I think that would mesh best with Queen rather than Elvis Presley or Frank Sinatra."
"Oh, I'm surprised you know other musicians considering you referred to this as be-bop," Crowley teased.
Aziraphale swatted his hand in the air, not even bothering to connect it to Crowley's arm while he's still driving. Finally, the music started pouring through the speakers, and Crowley recognized it first as "Carol of the Bells." Wiggling happily in his seat, Aziraphale flashed one of his smiles at Crowley, brighter than the crisp, white snow. "Oh, well it's a Christmas miracle. Just what I wanted to hear."
The longer it went on, though, the more the instrumental shifted into a Queen song. Crowley expected Aziraphale's happiness to dim, but instead he just did another one of his happy wiggles, a gesture that leant itself more to Crowley's snake nature than Aziraphale at all. "Oh, I like this Queen song. It sounds so interesting this way."
"You actually like Queen?" Crowley asked, not bothering to hide his bewilderment. "And here I thought you were just humoring me the whole time."
Blowing on his cocoa, Aziraphale huffed, "Well, I don't have the best ear for music, but I trust your opinion on most of it. It has always been your forte, my dear."
"Just as taste has been yours, my angel," Crowley pointed out warmly.
They lapsed into silence, listening to the choral sounds of Freddie Mercury, but then Crowley noticed that Aziraphale started humming along between sips of his hot cocoa. Sneaking looks out of the corner of his eye, Crowley marveled at the angel in his car, purely happy for no reason at all other than some hot cocoa, good music, and apparently his company. Crowley was warmed from the inside out by the thought.
"I think this is my favorite Queen song, actually," Aziraphale suddenly pronounced. "It reminds me a lot of you. More than any of the others."
Immediately, Crowley felt a chill pass through him as if someone shoved snow down the collar of his shirt. "This one is called 'You're My Best Friend,'" Crowley stated flatly. "You know that, right?"
Aziraphale didn't immediately sense any trouble and answered honestly, "I do."
"You think I'm your best friend?"
The mounting horror in Crowley's tone finally caught Aziraphale's attention. He finally looked over at the demon who was staring at him from behind his glasses as he barreled down the road at over a hundred kilometers an hour. "Crowley, don't you think you should slow down?"
"Just answer the question, Aziraphale."
Usually, Crowley only called Aziraphale by his name when he was upset or very serious. "Yes, of course, you're my best friend. You have been for quite some time."
Crowley tore his eyes away from Aziraphale as if he burned him. The foot he had pressed to the gas pedal flattened it to the floorboard until it felt like the Bentley was charging as fast as a train, the engine roar nearly drowning out Queen. Still, Crowley let the music play on as he focused on driving, a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
"Crowley, my dear, whatever is the matter? Was is something I said?" Now Aziraphale did fear that he would spill the hot cocoa. "Are you upset that I consider you a friend? I thought that you wanted to be friends!"
"I did!" Crowley did not exactly yell, but he did raise his voice to be heard over the sharp string instruments and the roaring engine causing a cacophony in the Bentley. "But I thought that after everything we've been through – including the almost-end-of-the-bloody-world – that we're more than that!"
"More than friends?" Aziraphale sounded scandalized. "Like?"
"Boyfriends!" Crowley snarled, as if it was obvious, as if it was a dirty word.
"Pull over."
"What?" Crowley snapped, unsure if he heard correctly.
"PULL OVER!"
Immediately, as if it did it on voice command, the Bentley pulled to the side of the road, blowing snow out of the way so it wouldn't get stuck. The engine shut itself off, and the radio died. Everything was silent. The Styrofoam cup of hot cocoa clutched in Aziraphale's hands was miracled away in an instant. And then Aziraphale's hands were clutching at the collar of Crowley's jacket and yanking him over until Aziraphale's mouth greedily covered Crowley's own.
The angel tasted like sugar and chocolate, naturally, though Crowley suspected that the angel always tasted so sweet regardless of what he ate. Aziraphale's lips were also so soft, but the way he kissed him was anything but. It was like he was trying to breathe life into Crowley's body, to consume his very essence and suck out his soul if he had one. Aziraphale certainly made him feel like he did. How else would his entire being sing with happiness?
When Aziraphale pulled away, he was already chiding Crowley. "Friend is in the name of boyfriend, my dear. You should know how much you mean to me." He loosened the grip he had on Crowley's collar, smoothing away the wrinkles in an apologetic gesture. Then his fingers, still warm from holding the hot cocoa, dragged across Crowley's cheekbones. "You're always going to be my best friend, too. I love you."
Crowley's eyes went round with surprise. "You…you've never said that to me before."
"And that's my fault. I should tell you more often. I love you, my dear."
"I love you, too, my angel."
Aziraphale smiled again. "Good. I'm glad we've cleared that up. Now take us home, Crowley."
"Anything for you, my angel."