C: "Standard rules of engagement, clause 1.1.2, subsection 3. Civilian non-combatants must be given sufficient time to evacuate the area of hostilities. Aziraphale can put in a formal complaint to de dark council of the dukes of Hell, if you want. But you'll have to delay your attack until they reply. That could take weeks, maybe. Erm- You lot could all be in big trouble."
A: *Nods effervescently to support his lying husband*
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Hit me like a cartoon anvil today that the reason I love Crowley in all the flashbacks so much this season is because they are from Aziraphale’s POV and it’s the story of how he fell in love with him.
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congratulations to @nightgoodomens for making me write the first ficlet of the year! this is so schmoopy and soft it almost makes me want to turn it super angsty instead—but i didn't, so enjoy the happiness while it lasts. inspired by this post.
you can also find it on ao3!
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"Amazing how they came up with this all on their own, isn't it?"
Crowley leans back and stretches his neck as far as it will go, losing himself not in the noise but the spaces between sparks, the stars no one can see but are there living and shining nevertheless.
They find themselves on a different rooftop every year, always close enough to see it all but far enough away to create their own bubble of shared joy. His coat is hanging open, the cold, smoke-saturated air rushing past him, and when he closes his eyes just for a second, he can pretend the fireworks exploding above him are galaxies being born; his creations, still right where he put them after all this time.
Next to him, Aziraphale hums quietly, knowing all too well that Crowley is not expecting a response—nor would he hear it if he were to give him one. Instead, he keeps his gaze on his face, tracing the lines of his profile as he carefully pulls off his gloves, finger by finger, before stuffing them into his pocket. He remembers, oh, he remembers, the innocent love he saw flowing through him back then, before time, before earth, before Mother became God became the Almighty.
Before all they loved was lost, one way or another. Then again, while defying all possible odds, they managed to find it once more, not just in each other but in humanity.
Another explosion showers them with sparks that will never reach their skin, and a bright shout of joy follows right after, Crowley's eyes impossibly wide.
"Beautiful," he whispers, and Aziraphale cannot stop himself from tentatively pressing their palms together.
Absently yet with deeply ingrained care, Crowley intertwines their hands, pulling him closer to point at a spot in the sky, and there is smoke on his lips and warmth in their bodies—the same heat, given freely, shared.
"If you go that way, do you know where you'll land?"
Shuffling towards him until he can rest his chin on Crowley's shoulder, he carefully lifts their joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles, still watching him, carving out a spot for his fire-lit face in his memory.
"Alpha Centauri," he replies softly, leaving another, almost imperceptible kiss on his cheek.
"Alpha Centauri," Crowley confirms, leaning their heads together, and for a while, the world is everything he ever wanted it to be.
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