Oh, but that's too brief. When Aziraphale pulls away, Crowley will lean up, letting his lips linger against the angel's. Would this ever have happened, if the War didn't? If they didn't suddenly have no time at all and their lives were possibly ending any moment? Crowley doesn't know. He likes to think that they wouldn't have lived in this game forever, but for all he knows, they might've.

"You can sing," he murmurs in a teasing way. "But only if you don't destroy any more of Queen."

It's odd, being looked at with the kind of open affection that Aziraphale gives him. He's always looked at Crowley like he's something wonderful. No matter where they were, he was always excited to see him, always pleased. And, as a demon, harbringer of trouble and overall badness and all that, it wasn't often that anyone was pleased to see him. And never with the kind of openness and honesty of Aziraphale.