Ineffable Omens (Crowley x Aziraphale)

Forgiving the Unforgivable

 The angel had fallen asleep in Crowley's arms, and although Crowley could have stayed there forever, he scooped the angel up in his arms and carried him to the bed, tucking him in. He turned to leave, but the angel, who was still apparently partially conscious, grabbed his arm. "Don't leave me again," he whispered.

"I'm just going to the kitchen—"

"Stay," he begged. "Don't leave me alone again."

"Okay," Crowley said tenderly, although confused. Aziraphale pulled on his arm, and Crowley crawled under the covers with the angel, keeping his distance, but Aziraphale pulled him closer and rested his head on the demon's chest.

"Don't leave me," Aziraphale whispered softly before drifting off and Crowley finally got some peace and silence to think. His angel loved him. His angel loved him! But he screwed up. There was no way Aziraphale could possibly forgive him now. By the time morning came, Aziraphale would shove him out that door and never want to see him again. So he enjoyed the moment while he could, Aziraphale asleep in his arms, his chest rising and falling slowly with his breathing. He looked so peaceful and felt so warm. Crowley squeezed him tighter and never wanted to let him go.

Aziraphale woke first and untangled himself from the demon, making his way to the kitchen where he filled up a spray bottle and resumed his daily morning routine of watering Crowley's plants.

"Well he's back," Aziraphale told them quietly. "I don't know what to think. Logic says I shouldn't forgive him, but as soon as I see him, my heart melts and I already have." Aziraphale liked to think the plants could understand what he was saying.

"Morning," Crowley said, and Aziraphale whipped around to see the demon leaning in against the doorframe.

"How much did you hear?"

"Absolutely nothing. I know the dangers of eavesdropping. Trust me. Thank you for taking care of them for me, although they are looking a little spotty. I'm sure you did your best."

"I think spots give them character," Aziraphale said. "Makes them more beautiful."

"Oh," Crowley said, suddenly changing his mind entirely on how he wanted his plants to grow. "So where are we?"

"In your flat."

"No, I mean you and I. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'll forgive you. Let's not waste more time." Aziraphale stepped forward, placing his hands on Crowley's hips. "I just want you to be mine. Don't leave me alone again."

"I promise. I'm not going anywhere. I never meant to hurt you and I'm so sorry that I did. It's unforgivable—"

"I'm forgiving you," Aziraphale said. "Let it go. Don't try to convince me otherwise."

"You're really ... you're really going to forgive me."

"I already have, Crowley. I'm just asking you to be mine."

"Of course." Crowley pulled Aziraphale into a hug, almost crying from joy. Somehow, his angel had found it in his heart to forgive him, and that was all he had ever wanted.