As an eligible young noble of no small fame, Ambroys had a number of arranged courtships and suitresses in his youth, but any nascent marriages always fell through.
It's not that he didn't try; he certainly knew how to court a lady (perhaps too well, according to many fathers and husbands), and when he lacked knowledge on the affairs of womens' hearts, he sought counsel from a young woman who was a dear friend of his (perhaps too much counsel, according to his own father). Nonetheless, all he garnered for his efforts was separation after separation.
Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best.
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For one moment, Aziraphale let himself want Crowley
It's just an instant, not even half of a heartbeat, but he lets himself want all of it. Crowley. The kiss. An "us." He puts his hands on Crowley's back and feels him.
It's nothing like the grip Crowley has on his lapels. This is gentle, reverent. A caress. The way we would expect Aziraphale to hold Crowley.
The kiss is long, something like 10-12 seconds. It's sudden, intense. For most of it, Aziraphale's hands are held out in shock, in a stubborn refusal to admit what's happening and why and that he wants it too. Until, for one instant, he gives in.
And in almost the very same instant, he realizes what he's done and his hands spring away.
But in that one moment, he kisses back. And it's why Crowley holds on a little longer. You go too fast for me, Crowley. So he gives him a little more time.
And when Crowley does pull away, Aziraphale starts to say, "I can't."
The words are not even sound, just air. Maybe they even would've been better than his chosen alternative. "I can't" isn't "I don't want to." It isn't "You're wrong" or "We shouldn't" or "No."
But "I forgive you"? For Crowley, that cuts deeper and Aziraphale has to know it.
He has to reign himself in to say it and I think he regrets it immediately after. Because when Crowley leaves, Aziraphale's real feelings almost slip out.
He starts to say, "No."
No, don't leave. No, I've failed. No, this can't be it.
But, yet again, he stops himself. Takes all of that hurt and anguish and devastation and, yes, heartbreak (even if he did the breaking) and pushes it down. Puts on the angelic front just like he's done over and over for six thousand years.
We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you.
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