It was a Tuesday, much like any Tuesday since the apocalypse that wasn't nearly nine years ago. Crowley and Aziraphale had had a lovely lunch at The Ritz, followed by feeding the ducks at St. James. That had left them plenty of time to drive back to the bookshop, have a bottle of wine, and sober up just in time for the Them to arrive for their monthly tea. A practice that had begun due to a polite invitation of Aziraphale's that had been taken rather more literally than intended when they were all miraculously accepted to various University of London schools .
"Thank you for your invitation Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley" said Wensleydale once they all had their coats off .
Crowley looked up from where he had been lounging on the sofa, a small frown on his face. He shrugged his shoulders and went back to perusing his phone. "Don't thank me kid. It's the angel hosting."
Then came the sentence. The damning sentence that would change it from a normal Tuesday. "Well, normally when at an event is hosted by a couple, you thank both halves of the couple" Wensleydale said pedantically .
Aziraphale froze in surprise, arms still full of the children's coats. He self-consciously took them over to the coat rack after a moment, putting them up and trying to think of what to say in response.
"I have never understood why people think we are a couple." Aziraphale finally muttered as he turned around, not making eye contact with any of them and feeling the first tell-tale signs of warmth that indicated the color in his corporation's cheeks heightening slightly. He heard Crowley scoff in the corner.
"You aren't a couple?" Pepper asked, looking between angel and demon in confusion. Aziraphale was pretty sure that was snickering he could hear from Crowley's sofa now.
"What? No. I will admit now he's my best friend but…." Azirphale tried to stop what was threatening to become a blush.
He felt the weight of Adam's gaze on him before he even looked at the boy . Adam had been only human nine years and had his powers mostly under control , but Aziraphale could still feel the once-upon-a-time Antichrist read him like one of his books.
"Because best friends want to run off together or continuously stare at each other?"
He could tell he was losing the battle with his blushing cheeks from the heat emanating from them. "What? Don't be ridiculous….."
Adam raised an eyebrow and a little half-smile danced across his face. "So, you are telling me you've never wondered what it would be like to kiss Crowley?"
All the miracles in the universe could not contain Aziraphale's blush by this time. He felt like his face was on fire, far worse than the one time he had trusted Crowley and went to the beach without sunscreen. He felt more than saw Crowley's focus suddenly sharpen, his posture shifting slightly and his gaze obviously on the angel even from behind shades. Which was not helping.
"Don't let your imagination run away with you my dear boy" he managed after a few seconds. A remarkable feat of composure and evasion he rather thought, all considered. He was an angel still, despite the opinion of some of the higher ups, he did try to avoid lying if he could help it. He hadn't technically confirmed or denied it….
"Hmmm…." Adam didn't sound particularly convinced, but dropped it. "Well, did I tell you Dog…." .
The next hour of chatting was far more pleasant than that episode had been. Or would have been, had Crowley's attention ever drifted long enough for Aziraphale to relax. As it was, Aziraphale was willing to bet the demon's eyes had never left him, though he responded to the others' comments well enough.
Tea finally concluded he walked the Them to the door . The round of hugs, well-wishes, and invitations for next month were concluded shortly. He didn't bother to hide his sigh when the lock clicked behind them. Though he adored the dears he did find them rather tiresome after a time. He drew a long breath and turned to suggest to Crowley that they switch to something stronger, only to find Crowley had silently snuck up behind him, effectively stopping his breath and query in place.
Crowley took another step forward, crowding the angel until he was against the door. He had left his sunglasses on the table, his golden  eyes shining in the half-light. The blatant look of desire made anxiety gather in Aziraphale's stomach. His expression was as urgent as Aziraphale had ever seen, while his eyes looked agitatedly for something in the angel's face. He couldn't seem to find whatever it was he was looking for, since his voice was the closest Aziraphale had ever heard him to sounding nervous.
"I have waited six thousand years to kiss you Angel."
For a split second the desperation in his expression tinged Aziraphale's anxiety with a dash of fear. His mind was racing, reminding him why he had never and should never and questioning what heaven would think and that Crowley would surely want more than he could give and was a demon with who knew what experience. Then Crowley leaned in, his lips getting closer…. and brushed against Aziraphale's forehead.
The knot of tension Aziraphale had been experiencing dissolved in the seconds Crowley's lips lingered, replaced with a glowing warmth.
When Crowley pulled back to see his reaction it was Aziraphale that surged forward to press their lips together. Even with making the first move, he let out a half-moan, half-exclamation of surprise at the contact. He was so busy processing sensations, that it took him several startled seconds to realize Crowley had not reacted. In fact, Crowley had frozen like a statue. Aziraphale could not even feel his heart beating where their chests touched. He stayed like that long enough for Aziraphale's nerves to come roaring back to life. He was about to pull back, about to apologize, when Crowley finally moved again. His lips moved hesitantly, carefully, like he expected Aziraphale to come to his senses and pull away any second now. When he did not and tried to respond in kind, Crowley's hands came up to rest lightly on his shoulders, still gentle, still careful.
The small part of Aziraphale's brain not helplessly trying to process it all reflected that Crowley had always been careful with him. He had always been careful to never push things beyond what the angel could handle, careful in what he said to Aziraphale, careful to not hurt his feelings even when poking fun at him. The demon that thrived on messing with people only tried to reassure Aziraphale, aside from the occasional doubting question that reflected his own doubts more than the angel's. The demon that took what he wanted in general had only ever taken what Aziraphale was willing to give. He took a few moments of conversation when that was what Aziraphale would give, crumbs of attention. When Aziraphale finally allowed the Arrangement he didn't push, but slowly cultivated it into a friendship. He didn't force his company upon the Angel, but happily saved him when he needed it and took him to lunch after. When Aziraphale was unkind to him, he refused to do the same. When Aziraphale pulled back from him, he reiterated that they were friends and still put Aziraphale before the rest of the world. That was when Aziraphale realized it, several millennia after he should have, Crowley loved him. Oh he thought giddily, oh.
Crowley never increased the pressure or intensity, which Aziraphale was grateful for. It gave him time to adjust his understanding of the world and savor it as he finally started to relax into the kiss. When Crowley pulled away after a couple of long moments his expression banished the rest of Aziraphale's fears and replaced them with pleased embarrassment.
Crowely looked at him with the awed reverence he had never shown heaven, the archangels, and only a hint of to the Almighty. He looked at Aziraphale the same way he had the distant stars and Alpha Centurai when they had gone on vacation there after the not-apocalypse. His eyes were wide with it, blended with absolute adoration. He looked more like God's idea of Angel in that moment than he ever had before he fell. After years of wondering whether he could or should or would, Aziraphale finally knew what to say.
"Six thousand and thirty-two years was a long time for us to wait love."
Not dear. Not dearest. Love.
Crowley's eyes widened further in surprise and undisguised longing, with a hint of that fragile something he had rarely let Aziraphale see. He swallowed, though he didn't need to.
"Was it Angel?"
"You go too fast for me Crowley" echoed nearly audible in the stillness of the bookshop. His previous words seemed especially biting after realizing how comparatively slow and careful Crowley always had been.
After a moment of reflection, Aziraphale responded in an over-exaggerated thoughtful tone, "Maybe waiting six thousand and twenty-three years was prudent all considered love." Aziraphale put deliberate emphasis on the term again. "But six thousand and thirty-two years was too long to wait."
Hope bloomed across Crowley's face, as if he had scarcely ever allowed himself to hope before. Certainly, that could only be hope that was leaking into his voice. "Is that so Ang- love?"
Aziraphale did him the courtesy of pretending not to notice him nearly choking on the word. "It is."
Crowley didn't hold himself back anymore and practically lunged at Aziraphale, or at least as much as possible while still being gentle with him.
"It was worth it." he said breathed between increasingly fervent kisses, "This was worth six thousand years of waiting Angel."
1. Because Aziraphale strongly suspected there had been a miracle involved on Adam's part when it came to Brian
2. Aziraphale did like that boy's manners, taking them as a sign the boy was destined for Heaven. Crowley said Wensleydale was bureaucratic enough for both Heaven and Hell.
3. Aziraphale changed his mind. His overly officious attempts at politeness were definitely oriented more towards hell.
4. Who, bear in mind, was twenty now.
5. Mostly being used in the literal sense of 60-90%.
6. One of the advantages of having a hell hound for a pet was that they tended to live rather longer than your vet expects them to for the apparent breed.
7. He was still an angel. He still had to be polite, even if Crowley insisted it was dreadfully old-fashioned.
8. A shade somewhere between heaven's light and hellfire
Author's Note: Long-time reader of Good Omens FFs, first time poster. Feedback is much appreciated. Flames for the sake of flames will be ignored. Obviously, I do not own any of this.