#nutracker au

"Aziraphale, how many times have we been through this?" Crowley pinches the bridge of his nose. He's irritated, hurt and tired of all the pretending. Of waiting for something that might never happen.

The snow globe Aziraphale gave him as a Christmas gift is a nice gesture, but it means nothing if it's not followed by actions. And it hadn't so far. Hells, it took Crowley a good couple of years to even confirm there's something more between the two of them, that this pounding of his heart when he's near Aziraphale is not a one-sided thing.

But it still hurts.

More than he's ever prepared for.

"And I told you! We can't be seen together, not on a winter ball! Good Lord, Crowley! What were you even thinking!"

Crowley braces himself for another rejection that he knows is going to tear through his quivering heart. "People already suspect something's between us!"

"Which is even worse!" Aziraphale yells back at him, already looking behind his shoulder. As if there was anyone around that could see them in the St. James Park, their secret meeting spot.

Crowley winces, but tries to keep it together for a little while longer. "Is it? I don't think anyone would be, uh, openly hostile..."

It was true, he could feel the world shifting around them, accepting what used to be unthinkable. He's pretty sure his close friend Anathema has already figured it out and she was nothing but supportive. It gave him hope for the future, for their future.

"Why is this so important to you?" Aziraphale quips and it gives Crowley pause.

Public displays of affection—is that all Crowley cares for? Is he that shallow? But it's not only about that. It's the question whether they will ever be able to be properly together, or will it always be sneaking around and pretending they barely like each other. Eyes surreptitiously meeting across the room full of people.

His eyes start prickling in the corners as the thoughts swirl in his head. He shuts them tight, thankful for his sunglasses for this shield of plexiglass that saves the last shred of his dignity.

"Why isn't it to you?" He chokes, his throat is too tight to say anything more.

"If that's what you think then I have nothing else to say to you."

Aziraphale gapes at him, speechless for the longest while. He can see the hurt in those crystal blue eyes, one that he hadn't intended to put there, but one he cannot chase away. Not this time.

"And the feeling is mutual!"

Crowley pushes his hands in his tiny pockets and storms away first.

He doesn't look back.