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“Angel wait, please.”
Aziraphale stopped, partly because of the hand that grabbed his arm, and partly because Crowley had said ‘please,’ which he never did.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” said Crowley, speaking in a low but urgent voice. “Aziraphale, if Hell finds out about us, about, about what we’ve been doing, then I am dead, or worse than. I want the Holy water precisely because I don’t want to die.”
The angel’s mind was reeling. “B-but, but… but it was your idea in the first place!” he spluttered.
“Yes, and it was worth it!” said Crowley.
“Why?” Aziraphale asked. He’d never really thought about why Crowley started their Arrangement; he didn’t want to. Because when he did think about it, he tended to assume things like Crowley trying to corrupt him by getting him to commit acts of evil. But if it was just as dangerous for Crowley, possibly more, then perhaps – “Is it because part of you enjoys getting to do nice things for people?”
“NO!” his vehemence surprised Aziraphale. Crowley’s hand, which he’d forgotten was still wrapped around his arm, abruptly let go, and Crowley took a step back, eyes blazing even through the sunglasses. Then he turned away. Swallowed. “Not… not entirely, anyway.”
Aziraphale stared, startled by the stark honesty in Crowley’s voice. “Then, why? What makes this arrangement worth all the danger it brings you?”
“Aziraphale.” Crowley gave him a Look, as if to say, how thick are you? “I could never regret time spent with you.”
“Oh,” he said, dumbly.
“I’m jusssst… sscared,” Crowley went on, and Aziraphale swallowed at the display of emotion. “I don’t want to ssssstop. I can’t. But if they find out, if they come for me, I just want to be able to fight back.”
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, overcome. “I, of course. Yes. I’ll – I will.” He hesitated, for a moment, then said, “I don’t want to stop, either.”
Crowley gave him a tremulous smile.
Aziraphale’s world had been turned upside down in under 10 minutes. Aziraphale had been abruptly faced with his own feelings for the demon, when he’d thought Crowley wanted the Holy Water to use on himself. Then he’d been told Crowley felt the same. He wasn’t sure he believed it, yet, but he did know one thing. Crowley was his demon, and he wasn’t going to let go of him.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, and smiled back.