An Ineffable Love Story

Up Against A Wall With Me 💜

Aziraphale really couldn't concentrate on his book. This was partly due to him being lost in his thoughts, and partly because of the demon wrapped around him.

The angel was daydreaming about the past. If someone had told him that he would one day be Crowley's boyfriend, he wouldn't have believed them (although those sorts of ideas had crossed his mind more times than he would care to admit). Aziraphale had spent a good few millennia trying to persuade himself that he didn't like the demon at all, their relationship was purely professional in nature, and that he definitely didn't wander around Crowley's old haunts in the hope of running into him.

He recalled their first meeting as angel and demon — Crowley really did suit his black robes and sleek wings, although as the Angel of the Eastern Gate, entrusted (unwisely) with a Flaming Sword, he probably wasn't supposed to be thinking that. But he had sheltered Crowley with his wing — only because he was doing a good deed, not because he just wanted an excuse to get close to the demon.

Back then, he'd been taken in by Crowley's tough exterior, and had truly believed that he was evil and ought to be avoided. When had he first glimpsed the good that Crowley so desperately tried to hide?

Of course, he knew. All of his memories of Crowley were imprinted on his heart, like familiar, comforting stories he told himself when he was lonely or hurt or miserable. It was when the demon had claimed that he had destroyed all of Job's goats, but in fact had turned them into birds. And then he had helped Aziraphale save Job's children.

Crowley had done something nice.

This reminded Aziraphale of another memory, one which made his body tingle and his breathing constrict. It was quite recent, a few years ago, when they had been visiting the old Satanic-order-run hospital on their search for the missing Antichrist. Crowley had made the paintballers' day both exciting and safe (qualities which Aziraphale valued highly as a servant of the Almighty), and the angel had told him that deep down, he was actually quite nice.

The demon had pinned him up against the wall. Their faces were almost touching — they were so close that Aziraphale could see Crowley's golden eyes and serpentine pupils through his sunglasses. "I'm a demon, I'm not nice," he'd spat. "Nice is a four letter word." But Crowley didn't release him. They had gazed at each other, and the angel was starting to wonder what would happen if he leaned forward just a little bit—

And then the stupid ex-nun interrupted them.

Aziraphale let out an audible sigh of exasperation, reliving the moment in his head. The demon in question lifted his head from Aziraphale's shoulder. "What's the matter, Angel?"

He'd forgotten where he was, and that Crowley was here too. An idea popped into Aziraphale's head. It was quite unlike him to think such a thing, let alone do it, but if Crowley was a nice demon, surely he could be a slightly unholy angel?

"Come on," he said purposefully to Crowley. When the demon just sat there, Aziraphale pulled him up by his collar, seizing his hand.

Crowley was a little baffled by this turn of events, but the look in the angel's eyes meant he followed him without question. Aziraphale pushed the demon up against the wall of the bookshop, gently enough not to hurt him but roughly enough to reenact the memory he treasured.

"I was thinking," he told Crowley, in a low voice, "about the time I called you nice."

"Oh," Crowley replied, confused. Then it dawned on him. "Oh."

Aziraphale kissed Crowley deeply, standing on his tiptoes, inhaling the demon's scent. Crowley kissed back, his mind turning to the day the angel was remembering. How he wished this had happened back then. He recalled the longing he had felt, before his mind was wiped blank and he lost himself in Aziraphale's embrace.

The angel was gripping Crowley's shirt as if he'd never let go, but the demon let his hands wander up Aziraphale's back, settling in his fluffy, white-blonde curls. Reluctantly, they split apart at last, breathing heavily.

"God, Angel," Crowley exclaimed. "I never thought you'd do that!"

"I'm not as angelic as everyone thinks," smirked Aziraphale. "And you're not as much of a demon."

🖤🤍

~735 words~
This is definitely happier than the last chapter! (It's also inspired by a Taylor Swift song, so if anyone knows which one it is write it in the comments and I'll tell you if you're right.) Also thank you so much for 18 reads in less than a day, this is amazing! Don't forget to follow & comment, I reply and follow back! I will be posting another chapter later on today! xx