[They're so far away from Her presence and She's still hanging over them, won't ever not be hanging over them, so long as they both are what they are. Some foolish part of Crowley had hoped that maybe it would be easier here, but with how insistent the city is on dragging up all this shit, he probably shouldn't be so surprised. Of course he feels so raw about falling when he had to practically relive it not so long ago.

He opens his mouth to argue but snaps it closed just before the kiss, a hand curling around Aziraphale's head, holding him in it until he feels him pull back. Crowley presses their foreheads together, breathing him in.]

Listen to me, angel, neither of us were made to love this way. We have to figure it out, we'll have to learn. But we'll do it together, yeah? You don't have to... bury parts of yourself for me, that's exactly what you're trying to tell me not to do. Tear at me, if you love me so much you want to, I'll take it. I want to take it, doesn't matter if it hurts. I'm not scared of you, and I'm not scared of your love.

[He's scared of losing him, but that isn't the same. He doesn't want Aziraphale to feel the way he so often does, like he's too much, overbearing and needy and too hungry.]