They're like Constellations. - A Good Omens one shot

They're like constellations.

Soon, his hands moved to his cheeks and aziraphale's fingertips brushed along the sweet gingery freckles that peppered across the demons face. A smile that Crowley had always compared to the sun itself blanketing the blondes face as he admired the freckles like they were a form of art.
"You're beautiful..." Aziraphale breathed quietly. It was as if he didn't even know what he was saying. He was lost in complete awe, admiring the gorgeous dots that reminded him of shining stars in the sky. Crowley's face flushed a strawberry tint and they shifted their gaze to the carpet, staring at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The angels hand traveled from Crowley's cheeks to his chin; he lifted it with utmost curiosity at the pink flush in his friends cheeks.
"Crowley, Dear, are you ill? Perhaps a little too drunk" The angel asked foolishly. Supernatural beings such as themselves couldn't get sick. The demon raised his hand and waved Aziraphale off, the red tint in his cheeks only deepening. 
"Pfsh, nah. Not ill. Not at all. Why would I be ill?" Crowley seemed caught up in his words as he fumbled with them, his hands waving all over the place in strange gestures. He was definitely drunk, but there was something else to it... Aziraphale felt a small snicker rumble in his throat, yet he tried to stifle it with a cough, pretending to clear his throat. The demon grumbled quietly beneath his breath, cursing himself. The angel stole a glance when Crowley looked up at him. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He leaned backwards onto the arm rest of the sofa, sprawling across it as if he had no cares in the world, yet he certainly had one. His angel.
"Angel, you really are clueless..."
He murmured, half to himself. If the angel wasn't so close to him, he wouldn't have heard those words slip from the demons mouth. Those words earned a confused look from the angel, and a tilt of the head as he looked at Crowley with an intense yet curious gaze. 
"What do you mean by that, Dear?" Those words had the same clueless tone that overcame the angel for the past six-thousand years whenever Crowley had brought up something about his idiocy. This time however, the blonde being was determined to get an answer from the demon. He pushed himself further, practically on top of Crowley at this point as he gazed into the demons golden eyes, his bright, drunken smile faltering to one of curiosity. The flustered demon opened his mouth to say something, but a simple jumble of Scottish ramble was the only thing that escaped from his open mouth. A moment later, his mouth opened once more when he had finally thought of the proper words to say to his precious angel.
"M'not sure what you mean. I didn't say anythin' of importance." The demon rumbled in response to the question that had been asked over two minutes ago. It had only dawned to the red-head that he had taken a rather long time to formulate a response, even one as simple as the one he had. The angel pressed further, both physically and mentally as he leaned a little closer to the demon, their faces only inches away now. Their drunken breaths colliding, smelling of the finest wine that Aziraphale had kept hold of for the past few decades. 
"You've mentioned how clueless I am many times over the past few centuries..." Aziraphale explained, licking the few drops of wine that remained on his lips off. He looked down at Crowley, awaiting an answer; one which he most likely wouldn't get. Not unless he probed a little further. "What do you mean by it? How am I clueless?" He continued to probe at the answer. He knew that he was getting closer to receiving an answer when he heard a sigh of slight arrogance escape the demon's lips. 

"I have no words, to explain it, angel." The demon seemed to be slowly sobering up, which left Aziraphale as the most drunk out of the two of them; it was a situation that scarcely occurred. The angel let out a frustrated groan and looked around the room, as if the books that scattered the bookshelves would give him any inspiration. He was stumped. He didn't know what to say or what to do, but he desperately wanted an answer from Crowley... However, he didn't exactly know why.
"Well... Don't you think you could show me?" The angel suggested with a sly smirk, as if he was a genius and he had just cured cancer. Which was something he could do with miracles, but he was intent on gods plan, and he couldn't interfere with it... Not too much at least. Crowley seemed to think intently about that for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head.
"Nah, m'not sure that'd be a good idea, angel." He stated, scooting away from the rather drunk man. Aziraphale let out a groan and moved his head to rest against the back of the sofa. 
"You always do that, you call me clueless, but then don't tell me what I'm clueless about!" He complained. The angel was adamant that they were going to get their answer. That night. A quiet laugh escaped from Crowley as he shook his head again, looking over at Aziraphale, who looked like an upset puppy. His eyes were twinkling; the light from the bookshop fixtures reflecting off of the slim black pupils in his eyes.
"You're drunk. You'd never usually beg me for an answer to a silly question like that." The demon snickered quietly, as if at himself. Was there something on his mind? This caused Aziraphale to quickly sober up using a simple miracle. Crowley noticed this, but he silently hoped that he had been imagining that miracle. He knew that if Aziraphale was now sober, they would most likely have to have a long heartfelt conversation. Crowley didn't enjoy those.
"Well, now I'm not drunk, Dear." He stated, his voice cracking as he got used to being sober once more. The wash of weariness overcoming him. He knew that there was something on Crowley's mind, and he wanted to know what it was. This caused a displeased groan to escape from the demon and he swung his head back against the armrest. He knew this was going to happen if he brought it up too many times, he just wished it wasn't that night.
"Oh, angel, come on. There's nuthin' on my mind. We done now?" He seemed to want the conversation to be done with. A sigh of relief escaped from him as Aziraphale nodded it off. He usually didn't like pushing the demon to talk about his feelings. He knew how hard it was. Crowley's head lifted and he rested it against his balled up fist as he stared over at Aziraphale.