[Crowley feels dizzy, almost weightless with relief. Six thousand years they've known each other, and he's spent so long denying how he felt, keeping it locked up tight because it was too dangerous for the both of them. He could hardly dare to hope that Aziraphale might feel the same, but... here they are. Free from Heaven and Hell. Free to be anything they want.
He shakes his head at the question, almost laughing, looking somewhere between amused and fond.]
Thought I made it pretty obvious, angel. [After a second of hesitation, he reaches out to touch Aziraphale's cheek, as gentle as possible.] I'll give you anything you ask for, let you do anything you'd like.
[That's already been the way of things. Hamlet and lunches and stains miracled from coats. Crowley's always been wrapped around Aziraphale's fingers, there's just no need for pretense anymore.]
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He shakes his head at the question, almost laughing, looking somewhere between amused and fond.]
Thought I made it pretty obvious, angel. [After a second of hesitation, he reaches out to touch Aziraphale's cheek, as gentle as possible.] I'll give you anything you ask for, let you do anything you'd like.
[That's already been the way of things. Hamlet and lunches and stains miracled from coats. Crowley's always been wrapped around Aziraphale's fingers, there's just no need for pretense anymore.]