you really gotta trust someone to do a bullet catch. like you would trust everything they say and do and know, implicitly, that you’re safe in their hands. they trust each other so much— despite the fact that their “exactlies” are different “exactlies”. and it’s like they can only see that out of the corner of their eyes because when they look directly at it they’re blinded by something (love? devotion? loyalty? all of the above? who can say. it’s ineffable).
they put trust in each other over everything else, over hereditary enemies and disagreements about humanity and deeply coded ethereal programming. they trust each other despite everything telling them they shouldn’t, through bad moods and insults and breakups. even when it could lead to danger or destruction or death.
Aziraphale caught the bullet in the story of Job (he ate food offered by the snake in eden, trusting him even then, so early, somehow, to not drag him to hell), he caught it again in the 60s (he gives Crowley holy water despite everything telling him not to, he trusts him not to take the suicide pill), he catches it again and again (he trusts Crowley and raises the Antichrist. he trusts Crowley and stops armageddon. he trusts Crowley and swaps bodies and steps down into hell. he trusts Crowley. he trusts Crowley to save him every time). I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me.
so he takes the offer from Metatron, he trusts that Crowley will catch the bullet this time (trust me, trust me, trust me. i know what i’m doing here, let me save you for once). and sure enough the bullet hits the wall behind Crowley’s head but there’s no bullet in his mouth. nothing about it hits. they finally see that they’ve both been aiming at the wrong thing this whole time.
and just when you think it’s over and the magic trick is finished, Crowley levels the gun right back (these are their normal positions. something about it feels right. Aziraphale is very good at looking down the barrel of that gun because he trusts Crowley so very much), except this time the bullet doesn’t graze past his ear.
it hits him square in the mouth.