“It’s a bond that leads to a surprising amount of teasing and flirting between the pair, as Tennant’s demonic fallen angel, Crowley, performs miracle after miracle to keep Aziraphale out of trouble and vice versa. Crowley’s virulent claims of demonic allegiance easily forgotten with a batting of Aziraphale’s eyelashes.
It’s an interaction that isn’t just gay as all hell (and heaven, really), but embodies the shows all too important message, that even the most extreme beings are more complex than they seem.
The two are irresistibly good together in the yin and yang style portrayal, which they both have said they played as a romance.
While Gaiman has always carefully stated the exact nature of the characters’ love for one another is up to the reader, it’s difficult to watch Michael Sheen gazing adoringly at David Tennant as he saunters around in tight leather pants and sunnies, blaring Bohemian Rhapsody from the radio in his Bentley, and not read the two’s story as 6000 year-long romantic comedy.
There’s certainly a queer undertone to the pairing, not merely characterised by their familiarity or flirtatiousness (or several people observing them as boyfriends on several occasions), but in the consistent cautiousness that both Crowley and Aziraphale approach their ‘fraternising’ with.
One of the many examples being when Crowley offers Aziraphale to stay with him and Aziraphale replies, not with a no, but a “I don’t think my side would like that”.
Something that consistently characterises queer relationships in fiction and life, is an awareness that being together ultimately endangers one another, in contexts where queerness is deemed wrong.
So, it’s no wonder really that Crowley and Aziraphale’s constant fear that their friendship endangers the other, because they are meant to be sworn enemies as agents of heaven and hell, combined with all the other elements of their onscreen relationship is so lovingly read as queer by fans.”