More of the reverse au!!! Yay!

ALSO!! I've decided to stop putting angst warnings unless it's something that could cause someone problems (ex. Self harm)

Good luck figuring out which is which ;)

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Crowley slowed down in front of Aziraphale's shop, parking the white Bentley. It would be polite to go in, or perhaps he should just honk the horn. Maybe he could just miracle himself inside. But there could be someone in there. What if he tripped?

Crowley shut these thoughts out and decided to walk in like any normal human would. He adjusted his lavender button up and brushed off his black jeans, glancing around the sidewalk. He was nervous to see Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale?" He called out, looking around the store. Cups were placed neatly on the serving counter, chairs were stacked upside down onto of several tables.

"Ah, angel," Aziraphale poked his head from the back room, walking out with a notebook and pen in hand. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"It's 2 in the afternoon," Crowley frowned. "Why are you closed?"

Aziraphale blinked. "Because. Yes."

"Alright, whatever you say," he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I was wanting to ask you something."

"Shoot," the other grinned, his light blue eyes glistening in the dim light.

Crowley swallowed. "Yknow what? Never...nevermind. I... lost....... I lost my train. Of thought."

"Oh," he frowned. "Okay. Then would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"

"Yes," the angel nodded. "Yes I would."

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"I don't think I've seen you eat before," Aziraphale said, looking at the blank space in front of Crowley.

"Oh," he responded, tapping his fingers on the table. "I'm not very hungry, ever. When I do eat, I always finish before you."

"Well sorry for enjoying my food," Aziraphale hissed, setting his fork down. He sighed. "I'm done anyways. It wasn't very good."

"That's what you get when you order crepes from a breakfast restaurant," Crowley raised his eyebrows and sipped his coffee. "Next time we should just go to France."

"Yes, I suppose we should..." Aziraphale nodded. "I'll get the check."

"Are you sure?" Crowley leaned forward on his elbows. "I can pay. I don't mind."

"That's alright," he smiled, waving down the waiter.

He set a black book on the table and walked off to the back. Aziraphale looked down, his eyes lingering on the blank 'tip' area. He started to sweat. How did you do tips?

"Are you okay?" Crowley asked.

"Huh? Yes! Of course," Aziraphale laughed, scribbling a '9' on it and closing the book. "Let's go."

"Alright."

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"Truth," Crowley scoffed, crossing his arms. "I'd never pick dare in a million years."

"Why's that?" Aziraphale asked.

"Because, I know you'd pick something like, 'yell herpes in the middle of the sidewalk', or 'tell Gabriel his dick is small'."

"I would never," Aziraphale grinned. "I think I have my question, though."

"Go ahead," the angel nodded.

"If you had three wishes, what would they be?" He asked.

"Oh, that's easy," Crowley snorted. "Nothing. I have miracles."

"Okay, how about if you were a human?"

"Hm. Well, I guess my first one would be," he looked down. "Life supply of pens."

"Huh," Aziraphale gave him an incredulous look. "Well, what're the other two?"

"Second one would have to be...." he tapped his chin. "Wings. I would want large grey wings."

"Lastly?" The other pushed.

"I would... I would want you to be human too," Crowley sighed, flushing. "So we could be together. So I could... kiss you without falling. So we could die together instead of wallowing in sadness when one of us dies first."

Aziraphale was silent, staring at his angel with wide eyes. Kiss him? Why? Did he mean like a polite 'heyyyyy best friend' way or 'I'm super fukin gay for you' kind of way?

"I don't underst-"

"Of course you don't," Crowley laughed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked up, sadness glimmering in his golden eyes. "Demons weren't made to love, after all."

"But I-" Aziraphale was interrupted again.

"Don't- just, just don't try to lie to me and tell me you love me," he stood up, sighing and wiping his eyes. "I know I'm not the smartest. But I can tell when you're trying to make me feel better about something. You're a demon, Aziraphale, and I'm an angel. We aren't meant to be. I- I can't do this."

"Crowley, wait!" Aziraphale yelled as he walked at a brisk pace out the door. "It's raining!"

He frowned. Where was he going without his car? This was no good. Maybe he could take it to him, or something.

Aziraphale grabbed the keys off the small table in front of him an ran out the door, looking around in the pouring rain for an long haired angel in purple. There was nothing in sight.

So he kept walking.

Eventually he got a few blocks away, and with still no sign of his friend, he turned to walk back to the coffee shop. On his way back, Aziraphale smelled felt a small prick on his chest. He almost didn't notice it, actually.

Aziraphale touched his chest. He wanted to go to Crowley's flower store.

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He tried his best not to let the bells ring when he swung the door open, but it happened anyway.

Aziraphale blinked, his slit pupils darting around the store for Crowley. He heard a sniffle from behind the counter. Cautiously, he crept to it, and peered over the edge.

Crowley was sitting on the ground, soaked to the bone, head rested in his hands. It wasn't like him to cry. Maybe he could make it better, somehow.

Aziraphale made his way around, and kneeled in front of him, who looked up.

"Why are you here?" Asked Crowley.

"It felt right," Aziraphale shrugged, not breaking eye contact. "I... wanted to tell you something important."

"I'm listening," he said, wiping his cheeks.

"Demons, they're odd creatures," Aziraphale started. "This you know. But you told me they're not made to love. Sure, they can do so many other human things, but love, well, that's just out of the question. Tell me, Crowley, do you really think after all these years I don't feel anything for you?"

The angel looked down, very obviously feeling guilt and shame.

The demon in front of his sighed, reaching a hand up and running it through his soaked hair, stopping on the back of his head. He ran his hands forward until he cupped Crowley's face. "Crowley, look at me."

Round pupils met slitted ones.

"I love you too."

And with that, Aziraphale brought their lips together, Crowley responded immediately, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He did not fall like he thought he would.

They broke apart, partially for air, partially not, and then kissed again. And again. And again. It lasted into the night, and then they woke up in the morning, still on the floor where they had been before.

"Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I like?" Crowley asked, blinking slowly.

"Yes, angel," Aziraphale grinned, yanking him closer. "I'm so fucking gay for you."

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Whelp thank for reading

*slaps hands together* hee yaw *dies*