Author's Notes: I took the prompt in a slightly different direction, but I do hope it's enjoyable nevertheless.
Crowley stepped through the mud, frowning as his shoes got increasingly wet and dirty. He hadn’t been out in a rain so thoroughly soaking since his nighttime jaunt to ‘fix’ the M25. He hadn’t even wanted to go; but Aziraphale had begged and in the end he couldn’t say no.
After all, it wasn’t as if he even had to change to look appropriate to the setting.
“So he did become human after all,” Aziraphale murmured beside him, holding the umbrella over both their heads. “I mean, I always thought he had so this wasn’t entirely unexpected, it’s just that… that…”
He had to stop at that point and pulled out a handkerchief. Crowley looked away from him and pressed the squashy ground with the tip of his toe so that dirty water oozed onto it. He wondered where Aziraphale had managed to find a black tweed suit that looked and smelled like it had spent several years moldering in his basement.
“Come on angel,” he sighed at last, pulling the red-eyed Aziraphale through the rows of graves to the mud-spattered Bentley. “Let’s go back home and get drunk.”
When they did get to Crowley’s place, Aziraphale drank until he could barely sit up; but there were no conversations about dolphins or sparring arguments. Just weeping.
“We could have fixed him,” Aziraphale moaned. “We were his godfathers, he was young, far too young – and who knows what will happen to him now!”
“He didn’t want that,” said Crowley, lucid in spite of himself. “He didn’t want it at all. And it’s what happens to humans. They come and then they leave. That’s the way it works, you know that.” He was tempted to say ineffable but he bit his lip when Aziraphale looked at him. “Come one, ‘zira. You’re too drunk for your own good, you aren’t thinking straight.”
Aziraphale’s hitching sobs continued even after Crowley had led him over to the couch. Unsure and taken aback by the angel’s grief, he finally knelt beside the angel and rubbed his back, making circles with his hands.
“Shhhh, Azi. Shhhh.”
“Dead, Crowley. Dead! Don’t you understand? Don’t you feel for him at all?”
There was a long pause, punctuated by Aziraphale’s sniffing.
“Yeah, I do,” he sighed finally. “But he was hurting, Azi, really badly.”
“But his father, Crowley! What if he wanted him back? What happens then?”
“If he really was human,” said Crowley softly, “then there was nothing his father could do. It was all up to him. Not like...” He swallowed. “Not like us.”
After a moment, Aziraphale sat up and then threw himself upon Crowley, clutching him and trembling. Crowley could smell the alcohol on his breath and felt the weight of his pudgy corporation as it was racked with sobs.
It was death that gave him such thoughts, Crowley supposed, even though he technically couldn’t die. Because in the end, he realized, as long as they would have on Earth, ultimately they would spend even longer apart. Death would never come for them, only a summons to go home to a place that wasn’t really home for either and then there would be eternity, stretching forward into forever, looking across a gap at each other.
He felt like he could see it, that chasm as wide as the sky, and it seemed to him that the angel wasn’t crying for Adam anymore but for two creatures who, though being eternal, would only have a certain amount of time together, a certain span before it was all over and the next Armageddon came, one that they couldn’t stop and that would pull them apart forever.
“At least we got to say good-bye,” Aziraphale whispered, hoarsely, finally cried-out.
“Yeah,” Crowley agreed. “You should…” His throat constricted. “You should always say what you need to, though. In case you don’t get a chance. In case something happens and the end comes too soon.”
“Like telling someone they have a spark of goodness?” Aziraphale asked quietly.
“Or that they’re just enough of a bastard…”
And then Aziraphale kissed him.
His cheeks were wet and his mouth tasted like wine, but Crowley hardly noticed. Every part, every infinitesimal piece of his body was crying out ‘now.’
Now, before it’s too late, before you never have another chance, before something terrible happens to one or the other and they go back and get consumed by the fire or blotted out by the sunlight.
Now, before everything crumbles away to ash and dust and all you have is inadequate memory and ages of regret.
Now, before the forever that you have turns out to be too short.
“I meant to tell you I just never found the words, wasted time counting on endless tomorrows…”Aziraphale murmured as Crowley led him to his bedroom. He was still crying and when they sat down on the plush bed, Crowley leaned over and used his agile tongue to lick away the tears.
“Then we make the most of whatever time we have, angel,” and he started to undress him.
Soon naked, they moved together and inside each other, holding on as though they never wanted to let go. Aziraphale felt bursts of heat inside of him and rubbed against Crowley, wanting more touch, more contact. Crowley bit and clutched hard enough to scratch, thrust violently and pulled his angel close. They would have to rip them apart if they wanted to separate them, they would become one being, they would never let go, not for anybody, Above or Below because this was where they ought to be forever…
When the next morning dawned, Adam’s body was still in the soft earth, Armageddon was a long way off and Crowley and Aziraphale were entwined.
“Angel?” Crowley finally spoke. “Angel I think you’re crushing my ribcage.”
Aziraphale didn’t budge and neither did Crowley.
“What? Sorry for what? I mean, don’t be, I mean, it was just as much…”
“I was so frightened. With Adam dead it feels… it reminds me all over. Reminds us that humans die and we don’t get to, we’ll never get to. We grow together because we alone remain, are constant because we won’t die on earth – but then at the end, we’ll never see each other again. What can we hope for? The humans’ time here is so brief but then they get eternity. We have remained and will remain so long but when the final battle comes…”
“Let’s not think about it,” said Crowley and he kissed him. “Don’t think about it because if you worry about being gone, you’ll never appreciate what you have.”
“I don’t want to lose you!”
“Yeah. I know. I don’t want to lose you either.”
“But I don’t want you to think that I did this because I was afraid, though. It so much more, it’s everything I’ve been wanting to…”
Crowley kissed him quiet and they sank back below the covers.
It was enough to be with him, in the moment, for as long as it might last.
So Adam had ended and so Crowley and Aziraphale had begun. And when the time finally came, holding on to one another, on top of a crumbling grave, they wrote their own ending underneath a weeping sky.