A Demons Heartache 2

There were some things in his flat, Crowley had to admit, that were definitely inventions from heaven. The expensive shower head with sixteen different settings that he'd had installed a year ago was one of them.

It was heavenly.

His shower was not a small tiled cubicle, but a full scale room where he could spread his wings to wash them if he so pleased.

But right now it was enough to stand in the middle of the room, naked, and let the warm water wash over his body to wash away the sweat from the bad dream.

The water was raining down on the demon and he remembered the conversation from earlier. Or rather the conversation that Aziraphale had not wanted them to have right away.

"We can talk about this later.", he had said.

"I'll tell you what, dear. You'll go and have a nice, long, relaxing shower while I fix your bed and then I'll make you a snack. You need nutrition and then you need some rest."

The angel had all but shoved him into his shower and slammed the door shut.

He must have been in the shower quite some time, relaxing, slowly finding his way back into his body.

A knock on the door interrupted him.

"Crowley, dear. Are you alright? I put some clothes outside for you to wear."

"'m fine. I'll be out in a minute."

With a wave of his hand the water suddenly stopped. Crowley didn't bother to towel himself off properly and just slung the towel around his hips while grabbing another to dry his hair.

"Oh, I am not wearing those.", he mumbled and ignored the tartan pyjamas the angel had placed near the door.

Naked but for his towels, Crowley followed a rather delicious smell into the kitchen.

The sight in front of him made his heart skip another beat, which was beginning to be a quite annoying sensation.

Aziraphale was wearing an apron (which he was sure he had never bought for himself), apparently making a hearty breakfast for the both of them (with groceries he had certainly never bought).

"Are you feeling be- Crowley! You'll catch your death if you run around soaking wet!"

The angel abandoned the groceries and came closer. Crowley noticed that his companion kept his eyes firmly at chest height.

As the demon was a tad bit taller than the angel, Aziraphale had to stand on his toes to grab the towel and dry the demons hair. It felt nice.

"Seriously, your lot invented colds, runny noses and coughs. You have to take care of yourself."

Crowley didn't know what to say, so he said the first thing that came to mind. The thought that had come to him in the shower.

"It's your fault."

"What is, dear?"

"The whole being in love thing. I'm sure it's your fault."

Aziraphale stopped, taking a step back and returned to the kitchen.

"Why do you think it's my fault, Crowley?", he asked.

"Well, you're an angel. I've been around you for sixthousand years. It's like an infection. I've been around you too long. It's your fault."

Aziraphale chuckled, but somehow it sounded wrong. It almost sounded a bit disappointed.

"I hate to break it to you, dear, but we're of the same stock. The ability to love is something that angels and demons both have."

"B-But I don't do love. I'm a demon! I do lust, I do temptation, I do passion – not... love."

"Stop saying it like it's a disease, dear."

"But it is!"

Crowley let himself fall onto one of his chairs, leaned back and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hand with a groan.

"This is terrible... How do you angels bear it? It feels like someone is squeezing my heart over and over again... How is this heavenly?"

"It gets easier, dear."

Detecting a certain tone in Aziraphales voice, Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something you're not telling me, angel?"

Aziraphale didn't answer. Instead he put a plate of delicious looking blueberry pancakes and a glass of milk in front of the demon before getting rid of his apron and sitting down opposite him.

"Are you really sure it's love?", Crowley whined.

The angel nodded.

"I'm pretty sure."

"How can you be? When was the last time you've been in love?"

Aziraphale once again refused to answer and concentrated on his pancakes.

"Right, can you at least tell me how to deal with this shit?"

"Crowley! Don't say that... Being in love is the most wonderful thing in the world."

The demon doubted that, and seeing Aziraphales face, he was sure that the angel wasn't so very fond of the emotion either.

"That's not what your face says, angel."

"Well... Love is beautiful. But if it's unrequited, it can hurt."

Crowley didn't say another thing. Suddenly, thinking about Aziraphale being in love with anyone felt really... wrong.

"So, who is the lucky girl? Do I know her?"

The demon blinked in confusion, mid bite.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You're in love, dear. That we have established beyond a doubt. So, who is she? Or is it a man?"

Crowley suddenly realised that a big puzzle piece was missing. He trusted the angel. If he said he had caught a serious love bug, then it was true. But he hadn't thought about who he was in love with. The emotion was so new to him, so strange...

"I have no idea.", he finally said, honestly. "I really can't think of anybody. Is that normal?"

Aziraphale stared at him.

"No dear, that's not normal at all."

"So how do I find out? I can't do this angel. I need to figure out how to make this stupid – sorry – how to make this go away!"

The angel had finished his pancakes.

"In my case...", he started. "I've noticed that the first thing I think about in the morning is him. And the last thing I think about when I go to sleep is him."

So he had been right. Aziraphale was suffering from the same rotten disease. And he had for quite some time.

"I- He... Every time I see him the world is a bit brighter. I find myself wanting him to be happy. I am sad when he is sad. He doesn't know, of course, and I could never tell him..."

Crowley stood up. Sudden realisations were a bitch.

"Huh..."

"What is it?"

"I think I know who I'm in love with."

"D-Do you? Well, that's wonderful! You have to tell her!", Aziraphale said, but once again his voice betrayed him.

"Are you sure? If I tell him, the whole thing could spectacularly backfire..."

Aziraphales smile was so innocent, so real and so bright – but at the same time so sad that the demons heartache increased tenfold.

"Crowley, don't make the same mistake as I did. I've been a coward for so long now, I've missed my chance. But you only just realised... You may be a demon, but I can't imagine anybody who is more worthy of happiness than you are."

Aziraphale didn't realise that he was crying again, Crowley was sure of it.

He approached the angel, decided to sit down onto the floor and look up at him.

"You're so much more worthy, Aziraphale.", he said, smiling, reaching out to wipe the angles tears away. They tingled a little upon touching them.

"Thank you, dear. That's lovely of you to say.", he mumbled.

"But enough of me. I came here to help you!"

Aziraphale stood up, picking Crowley upright with him, dragging the demon back to his bedroom.

"It's still only five-thirty, dear. You should get some more sleep. I've changed the sheets for you."

Crowley had to suppress a groan of frustration.

The last two hours had carried way too many revelations for him, and they were raining down on him like a thunderstorm.

How could he have not realised sooner?

"Good idea...", he mumbled, but stopped Aziraphale in his tracks.

"Just one more thing, angel."

"Yes, dear?"

"What do you think I should do? How does this whole confessing your love thing work?"

Crowley sat down onto the mattress, still only clad in his towel and patted the space next to him for the Angel to sit.

Aziraphale fought with himself, the demon could see it. He was deciding whether to flee the scene or help his friend. But in the end, the angelic side won.

"There is more than one way. You could talk to him, tell him how you feel."

"You know I'm not big on words, angel. Is there a faster way? More direct?"

Crowley knew, of course. But he had to assemble every bit of courage he could muster.

"Well, actions speak louder than words, they say. I've always been too afraid to jump in, but a kiss usually does the trick."

A kiss. Swift and simple. A message that could not possibly be misinterpreted, right?

And because Crowley was not a demon of many words, he decided on the action.

Before his panic-stricken heart could tell him otherwise, Crowley made the leap and closed the distance between him and the angel, his lips landing on his target.