CHAPTER 2
Crowley couldn't help himself from flinching away when Aziraphale had touched him; the feelings were just so raw in that moment, that his electric touch had seemed to hurt, even though he yearned for it.
Then, suddenly Aziraphale was asking him, "My dear fellow, whatever's wrong?"
"Nothin'" Crowley managed to mumble, flashing a faint smile; inside however, a battle raged. He wanted desperately for Aziraphale to touch him again but was afraid he would lose the thin thread of control he had if he did, something he could ill afford to do; Crowley would never risk his angel that way.
He noticed Aziraphale take a step back and look him up and down, before begging, "Please tell me."
"Just…," Crowley started, then took a deep breath, willing himself calm, and then lied by saying, "Just this whole end-of-the-world business."
Crowley watched the angel come closer, questioning, "And what about this whole end-of-the-world business, is bothering you exactly?"
Before he could even think of a reply, Aziraphale gently reached out and straightened his hair back into place, causing another electrifying pulse to crash through his being, making him convulse into himself away from the touch.
'Must get a grip,' Crowley chastised himself internally. 'Can't lose control now.'
Then, he heard the angel barely whisper, "I love you."
Something snapped in Crowley and his heart lurched. Aziraphale loved him. His angel loved him. Suddenly, he leapt toward the angel, wanting, craving, needing to touch him. Placing his right hand on Aziraphale's chest, over the heart, he used his left to pull him in close enough that their foreheads touched, letting the tingling sensations sweep over himself, forgetting everything else in that moment.
Aziraphale gasped but didn't pull away at the intimate contact; instead, he used his free arm to hug Crowley back. This was what he had always wanted, a desire running deep through his soul, and now that it was happening, he wasn't going to let it go. Fire flowed in his veins, engulfing him, overpowering his shyness.
"Need you," Aziraphale whined lightly, as Crowley's left hand trailed a circle with its fingers over his chest.
"Oh angel," the demon groaned in return, hand sliding up to cup Aziraphale's cheek.
Aziraphale whimpered softly, the touch feeling like a burn on his skin, but it only made him want more. Longing consumed him, and he shifted his hand up and twined his fingers through Crowley's velvety hair.
"Fuck," Crowley swore, causing the angel to shiver; it had always secretly excited Aziraphale when the demon cussed.
Suddenly, Crowley tightened his grasp, pulling Aziraphale closer, closing the small gap between them and kissing him. It was a needy, desperate, but gentle kiss, making Aziraphale's soulful fire burn a million times brighter, as he leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed. Crowley's lips were silky smooth against his, yet at the same time hot and searing, and it felt like literal Heaven. Aziraphale let out an unintentional moan, aching for something more, though not entirely sure what. Slowly, he caressed his tongue against Crowley's mouth, basking in the taste of cinnamon and a hint of something smoky that he couldn't quite place.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it ended, causing Aziraphale's eyes to snap open. The demon had retracted himself, squirming away whilst reaching up and detaching Aziraphale's hand from his head. Releasing his hold on him, Crowley then stepped away towards one of the several bookshelves scattered around the shop.
Aziraphale's heart ached at the loss, as worry and doubt crept into his body. What had he done to cause the demon to pull away? Had he gone too far, too fast, crossed a line that he shouldn't have? He couldn't tell, especially not with those ridiculous sunglasses in the way. The impulse to sweep over and tear those things off Crowley's face was fierce, but he squelched it down; Crowley looked pained already, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it in the demon's eyes too.
Instead, Aziraphale plucked up the nerve to ask, "What's the matter, Cr-Crowley?", hating that he stuttered over the man's name.
"What's the matter? What's the matter? After all that, that's all you can think to say?" Crowley growled loudly, turning to face Aziraphale. "You aren't going to question why I kissed you, or why I pulled away, just ask 'what's the bloody-fucking matter?'"
"Well, that is to say, I, um," Aziraphale stammered, trying to form a complete sentence.
Snarling, Crowley strode up to him, throwing his hands in the air. "I kissed you because I lost control, but now I have it back, and we… can't do this. I… We just can't."
Aziraphale was broken at these words; they tore at his soul, wrenching a part of it away. Everything had felt so perfect till Crowley had stopped it, and now he was saying they couldn't do it again. Tears started to well in the corners of his eyes, and as he blinked, they fell on his cheeks.
"Why?" he choked out.
"Oh angel, I want to, but we can't," Crowley whined. "I'll break you, I'll burn you, you'll be Damned like me. And I will not let that happen."
So, Crowley was worried about him Falling; Aziraphale was touched but felt that something so wonderful and pure like the love he had for Crowley couldn't possibly cause that. He was sure God knew of his feelings for the demon and She hadn't cast him out yet. And even is She did, nothing was going to get in the way of his relationship with Crowley, not if he had any say in it.
"Then try and act like that won't happen," Aziraphale entreated, hoping, begging the demon would cave. "I know your good at pretending, just try to imagine that won't happen for the sake of…," he gestured inarticulately, trying to get across his want of them together.
"I can't Aziraphale," Crowley countered, pacing wildly in front of him now. "I won't let anything happen to you, even if it means I can't be with you. You are just too…," his voice faded, as the words were lost.
"Please, Crowley," pleaded Aziraphale. "I want this; I want you. Please, don't run away from it; please don't run away from me."
Crowley made a strangled sound, before saying, "I'm sorry, angel," and fleeing the shop. Stunned, Aziraphale stood there for a moment, then ran after him, but it was already too late, and the Bentley was driving away.
Aziraphale still hadn't stopped crying.
Knowing he had to get it together, but unable to stop himself, Crowley traced a lazy circle onto Aziraphale's body, feeling the thrumming pulses from his fingertips to the depths of his being, prompting the angel to say, "Need you."
Understanding just how he felt, Crowley reached up with his right hand and planted it on Aziraphale's cheek, murmuring "Oh angel," all while enjoying the static coursing through him at the sensation, sending jolts everywhere.
Then, the angel had wrapped his free hand into his hair; no one had ever shown such desperate passion for him in all his time on Earth and it broke his will to restrain himself.
"Fuck," he swore, sensing the angel tremble at his words.
Leaning the rest of the way forward, he locked lips with Aziraphale, and it was better than he had ever dared dream. Hungrily, he devoured the moment, the feelings that surrounded him, of the softness and coolness of Aziraphale's mouth on his.
Then, moaning softly, the angel had brushed his tongue ever so slightly across his lips, causing Crowley to come to his senses. He couldn't do this; this was what he had been trying to avoid in the first place. Shying away, he gently extricated himself from Aziraphale's hands and proceeded to walk away.
It was so hard; he wanted Aziraphale so much it hurt, but it ached even more to know that it wasn't to be. Pain filled him at the lack of touch, the loss of senses he had surrendered himself to feeling like a bleeding wound in his chest. Then, anger bubbled under the surface, anger at having to end it, anger at it having started in the first place.
"What's the matter, Cr-Crowley?" Aziraphale questioned, a quiver and stutter to his voice.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" Crowley snarled, the rage seething just under the surface. "After all that, that's all you can think of to say? You aren't going to question why I kissed you, or why I pulled away, just ask 'what's the bloody-fucking matter?'"
"Well, that is to say, I, um," Aziraphale stumbled over himself, sending a pulse of exasperation through Crowley.
Stomping his way over to the angel, Crowley threw his arms up in frustration. "I kissed you because I lost control," he ground out, teeth nearly clenched. "But now I have it back, and we… can't do this. I… We just can't."
Crowley watched in dismay as his angel's face fell and he broke down into tears at his words.
"Why?" Aziraphale asked, his voice fractured.
Something ripped inside of Crowley as he heard the anguished voice, saw the visible tears. 'Oh God, why did this have to be so difficult?'he thought.
"Oh angel, I want to, but we can't," Crowley tried explaining, willing the angel to understand. "I'll break you, I'll burn you, you'll be Damned like me. And I will not let that happen."
"Then try and act like that won't happen," Aziraphale implored. "I know you're good at pretending, just try to imagine that won't happen for the sake of…" he waved his arms broadly, as though attempting to get something across.
"I can't Aziraphale," Crowley whined, walking back and forth. "I won't let anything happen to you, even if it means I can't be with you. You are too…," 'important to me', he finished internally.
"Please, Crowley," the angel beseeched him, tears flowing freely down his face now. "I want this; I want you. Please don't run away from it; please don't run away from me."
Crowley choked; he couldn't take the pain anymore, the torment he felt having to deny his angel. With a pause only brief enough to say, "I'm sorry, angel," Crowley ran as fast as he could to the Bentley, his own hot tears forming; as they traced tracks on his cheeks, they evaporated from the heat of his body.
As he pulled away, Crowley noticed Aziraphale through the rear-view mirror, eyes scrunched up, crying still. His heart broke open anew, and he wondered to himself, 'What have I done?'