inlovewithmycar | open post

[A look of distaste passes over Aziraphale's face and he lets out a quiet hum of agreement. Sandalphon took far too much pleasure in smiting humans for Aziraphale ever to feel comfortable around him.]

Oh, well... [He tenses slightly, even as Crowley's touch so tenderly massages out a few of those troubled aches.] I suppose on some level it was meant to show that Heaven can pop in on me whenever it likes and disrupt whatever I'm doing. That's how Gabriel has always been.

[ There is a low, dangerous sound that emanates from the depths of Crowley's throat, and his arm around Aziraphale tightens protectively.

He'd never liked the power-plays in Heaven. While he'd never been important enough to feel the brunt of it, he'd certainly heard things, and then, being around Aziraphale, heard more things (likely with a lot of details omitted, but the execution had shed enough light on matters). ]

Glad we gave them a dose of their own medicine then.

[ He grinned, as the tension in his arm relaxes a bit. ]

They won't be bothering you again any time soon. Plenty of time for as many baths as you like.

[That protective grip, combined with what can only be described as a growl, has Aziraphale's gaze rising to look up into Crowley's eyes. He'd gotten so used to how things worked in Heaven that he never thought twice about it. He certainly never expected someone to get upset on his behalf over it. And yet here is Crowley, doing just that. It makes him feel safe. Loved. Warm.

Suddenly feeling quite bold, he reaches up with his free hand and cups Crowley's face, lightly brushing his cheek with the pad of his thumb.]

Plenty of time for other things, too. I hope.

Edited 2020-03-11 21:25 (UTC)

[ Crowley finds his head tilted so that he and Aziraphale are nearly face-to-face. His earlier disgruntlement over Heaven is forgotten in lieu of this new development - a soft hand brushing his cheek as he feels warmth spreading up from his chest to his face and he knows - he knows he's flushed from the roots of his hair to the tips of his scaly toes - and this is it, moment of truth, standing on the precipice and ready to take the dive. Wouldn't be his first fall, but the landing - oh, the landing looked so soft. ]

Yeah - plenty.

[ He gives a small duck of his head, perhaps to agree, or perhaps to angle himself just so ]

...So we can take as much time as we need.

[ Crowley closes his eyes, screws his courage, and leans in, closing the last few inches between their lips. ]

[Aziraphale keeps his blue eyes -- patient, steady -- on Crowley's, up until the demon's lips are almost upon his, and then he flutters his lashes shut and gives himself over into a kiss. It is soft, but not chaste, his lips open just a touch, a wet heat between them, the taste of Malbec and whatever is uniquely Aziraphale.

It is everything he ever imagined, and so much more. He keeps his hand on Crowley's face, stroking his cheek, his jaw, brushing up into his hair that he's been longing to touch for millennia.]

[ Crowley could taste Aziraphale on the tip of his tongue, his nose and mouth flooded with the comforting scent of him, which spurs him to deepen the kiss.

The arm around Aziraphale's shoulder moves so Crowley can cup the back of his head, buried in those curls that are soft as goose down.

The sound he makes, muffled into Aziraphale's mouth, is pained and yearning, an echo of some soul-deep ache finally soothed by the hand on his cheek and in his wild hair. He dimly thinks of growing it out again, really give the angel something to grab onto.

Parting is brief, just enough so that Crowley can tug Aziraphale's bottom lip between his teeth and get a good look at his face.

He wants to preserve it in his memory like one might press a precious flower between the pages of a book. ]

Aziraphale -

[ His voice sounds thick, and feels like syrup in his throat as his other arm wraps around the angel's middle. ]

Fuck, I've wanted to do that for ages now.

[Aziraphale whines as the kiss deepens, echoing Crowley's yearning. He's at once both satisfied and craving more, like the first bite of a sweet delicacy, pressing himself into Crowley and knotting his fingers into silky red hair. His other hand slides up Crowley's leg and settles somewhere on his thigh.

There's another whine when the kiss ends, and then he's simply looking back at Crowley in pure adoration.]

Oh... oh, my darling. Me too.

[His gaze is soft, a touch pleading. Crowley believes him, doesn't he? They just had this conversation, he has to know that Aziraphale would have kissed him ages ago if not for Heaven's watchful eyes. The Arrangement was dangerous enough, but to be caught in such a compromising position by Gabriel or another archangel --

He pulls Crowley into another kiss, a little more frantic than the first, and pants upon the breakaway.

I love you so much, Crowley. For so long. Forgive me for waiting.

[ Darling. Oh how Crowley nearly cries at that. His eyes certainly aren't dry as he hauls Aziraphale into his lap, kissing him again; kissing his lovely mouth, his chin, his jaw, and sucking a bruise over his pulse, he finally manages to get his thoughts aligned. ]

Angel please, don't ask me that - there's nothing to forgive - not for trying to keep us safe -

[ There were hurts, old and new, inflicted by each other over the years - but they could talk about those another day. If Aziraphale was looking for forgiveness, then Crowley needed him to know he never doubted him. Whatever Aziraphale felt guilty about, Crowley had long since stopped taking too personally. ]

-Love you, Aziraphale. I know what was at stake too, so please -

[Aziraphale lets out a surprised oh! at being pulled into Crowley's lap, then settles without another thought, thighs bracketing Crowley's slim waist, arm wrapping around his shoulders. He tilts his neck back instinctively as Crowley works on a love bite, encouraging him to mark him up as he pleases, shivering at the sensation.

There is much to talk about, if not to forgive, then at least put into perspective. There are other things, too, like how much Aziraphale loved Crowley's hair throughout the ages, or how dashing he looked in that pinstripe suit when he rescued him from the Nazis. All those subtle glances and secretive smiles that Aziraphale replayed over and over, more valuable to him than any book or scroll in his bookshop.

But that can happen later. Right now, there is a warm, needy Crowley beneath him. He pets Crowley's hair and blinks back the tears in his eyes, smiling at him tenderly.]

All right. And it all worked out, didn't it?

[He kisses up along Crowley's jaw, to the shell of his ear.]

Shall we take that bath now?

[ Crowley busies himself a little longer with lavishing lovebites on what exposed skin he can get his mouth on before conceding that, in order to get to Aziraphale's tub, they'd have to briefly part.

It seemed like such a terrible sacrifice to make. For a good cause, yes, but he rather likes the warm weight of Aziraphale straddling his lap and certainly wouldn't mind if the angel could remain there indefinitely. He's about to say as much, but the breathy suggestion against his ear leaves him somewhat less eloquent than he'd like. ]

Hrrngh - !!!

[ ...Very dignified.

Crowley scrambles to salvage some semblance self-respect, and finding none, he settles for being relatively coherent. ]

Bath - right. Yes. Excellent idea. ...Which we talked about before. Y'know, I don't actually think I've ever seen your bathroom?

[ Or rambling, that works too. ]

[There's a soft chuckle from the angel and then he's sliding off of Crowley's lap, standing up and absently smoothing out his waistcoat. Still buttoned-up, but disheveled around the edges, love bites visible above the collar of his shirt, his bowtie slightly askew and wrinkles in the rest of his clothes.

He's never looked happier.]

Here, let's get you up.

[He holds a hand out for Crowley, intent on pulling him close once he's on his feet. At the last moment, he picks up the pen from the table and tucks it back into Crowley's pocket.]

Mustn't forget this, my dear. You haven't seen any of the flat upstairs, have you? I've used it so rarely, anyway, it doesn't matter.

[ There's another very undignified sound when Aziraphale leaves the dubious comfort of his bony lap, but Crowley finds the sudden loss quickly alleviated when he's pulled flush to the angel.

Yeah, that was definitely good too. ]

Two hundred and twenty years you've had this place, you'd think I'd have found some excuse to poke around your upstairs by now.

[ No, he wasn't keeping track of how long Aziraphale had the shop because he liked buying little anniversary gifts, he was just very good at remembering things, why do you ask.

He wraps an arm around Aziraphale's shoulder, giving him an affectionate squeeze. ]

Lead the way, angel. My curiosity may actually discorporate me.

You would have been very bored if you had. It's mostly just books that I couldn't find a home for elsewhere.

[He tries to keep his voice casual, but it's impossible with Crowley wrapping his arm around him, a reminder that they can do this, simply touch one another with affection without pretense or excuse. Unable to resist, he kisses Crowley, wiggling his hips a little from the sheer joy of it.]

Well, we can't have that, now can we? I'm very fond of your corporation.

[With another pleased shimmy, he leads Crowley to a narrow staircase that provides access to the second floor. Upstairs is a flat that looks relatively unchanged from Victorian times. There is a kitchenette and a living area, and a hallway with doors presumably leading to a bathroom and a bedroom.

Everything is covered in books. Everything. Aziraphale looks around from the point of view of someone who is not him and blushes a bit in embarrassment.]

Erm. I might need to do a bit of sprucing up first...

[ Being a demon who was also once an angel, Crowley had never had a childhood. But as he stepped into the dusty upstairs loft, he feels a sort of giddiness that could only be comparable to a child being let into the secret treehouse club.

It's dusty, and rather stuffy, but Crowley can smell Aziraphale everywhere which makes it just right. It was never that he couldn't stand clutter; it was just the clutter of Hell that was all wrong. Aziraphale clutter felt, well, like home.

He leans against the angel, pressing a kiss into his hair when he spots a familiar looking cover peeking out from all the others.

Tugging free a copy of House of Holes, he gives a triumphant grin. ]

Found Gabriel's pornography.

[It takes a moment for Aziraphale's attention to shift from his mild consternation over his inconvenient clutter, to the sweet kiss Crowley presses into his hair, to the book that Crowley is holding in his hands. When he sees the title, his blush magnifies and he looks tempted the miracle the book out of Crowley's hands, potentially out of the entire flat.]

It's -- that's --

[Flustered, he tries to take the book back and return it to the stack. Most of the books up here, Crowley might note, are not as prestigious as the ones in the shop. A lot of paperbacks and newer editions, things that he read at some point but didn't feel the need to include downstairs. House of Holes isn't the only literary "porn" lying around.]

I'll just go tidy up the bathroom and get it ready, shall I?

[ Mercifully, Crowley relinquishes the book. He has no idea what has Aziraphale quite so flustered; Crowley's been around the collection for ages and has never known Aziraphale to shy away from a good book because there's some raunchy bits - or even if the whole thing is a raunchy bit. As he follows Aziraphale through the maze of book stacks, he casts a glance back to where they House of Holes behind and can only speculate that maybe the cock tree was too much, even for Aziraphale's not-so-delicate-as-expected sensibilities. ]

Got any good reads in there? A copy of the Kama Sutra maybe?

[ He gives a devilish grin, all too curious as to what Aziraphale might get up to in the tub. Back when he still took baths, that is, and didn't simply miracle himself clean because Gabriel might have a conniption about it. ]

[It's true that Aziraphale wouldn't normally be flustered over such a thing, but something about Crowley holding it in his hand and grinning has gotten him a bit tongue-tied. Everything is different now. They don't have to dance around certain subjects. Subtext doesn't have to remain subtext, it can be actual text in 96 point font.

It's a lot to process. His mind continues to wrap around it when Crowley brings up another erotic text, but this time he finds his voice, tilting up his chin when he speaks.]

Crowley, I didn't bring you up here to read a book. [Pause.] And of course I have a copy. It's a classic.

[He then returns his attention to the bathroom, which while not nearly as cluttered, has unfortunately accumulated a bit of dust. A quick miracle, and the surfaces return to gleaming, in particular the clawfoot tub that has plenty of room for them both. He smiles at Crowley and gives his cheek a kiss, hoping that it's to his liking.]

I'll go ahead and fill it. I have a number of bath oils on the vanity. Take your pick.

[ Crowley is a very fidgety sort when he's nervous, and so when Aziraphale gives him a task, he's all in, especially because it means getting to poke through the angel's things and he is so very curious. ]

You didn't? I'm astonished, Aziraphale, I really am. Thought we'd do a bit of light reading while we sort each other out.

[ He selects an innocuous carrier oil - he's always taken a liking to sunflower - to use for a base with the rose and lemongrass he's selected. There's the sound of clinking from the vanity as he measures out each quantity - clearly not a stranger to indulging in a nice, long bath himself, and very fussy when it comes to aromatherapy. ]

[Aziraphale huffs and rolls his eyes, although the former is likely drowned out by the sound of running water as he runs the bath. He only needs to fuss with the faucet a little until it's the perfect temperature.]

Books and water are a perilous combination. Besides, I think we'll have our attention on other things.

[He watches Crowley select the oils for their bath, sliding out of his cardigan and hanging it on the hook by the door as he does. The selection meets with his approval. The angel does not tinker with scents as much, although there is a newish bottle of cologne on the counter, the one his barber recommended.]

Which is why I'm sure you're always very careful when you read while having a nice soak?

[ He grins, feeling altogether much too clever, especially when his little mixture gets the Aziraphale Nod of Approval. Might as well be four gold stars as far as Crowley's concerned.

But then his roguish grin melts into something softer. It's rare to see Aziraphale without some kind of coat, the way it's rare Crowley goes without shades. They both have their little pieces of armour to protect them from life's slings and barbs and it feels good to know Aziraphale feels safe enough in his company to let down that particular barrier.

Crowley really could spend the next millennium just drinking in the sight of him - the way the dusty sunlight filtering in through the bathroom plays on light blond curls, the sweet curve of his smile, his lovely manicured hands...

Crowley approaches from behind, planting a soft kiss on the nape of Aziraphale's neck and resting his chin atop his head. ]

Well done. Looks like it's gonna fit the both of us just fine.

A small miracle to keep the hands dry, dear. Works like a charm. [He wiggles his fingers for emphasis.] Although I won't be planning on that with you around.

[It is indeed rare for him to be without a coat, only in the space between hanging up his white jacket when he steps into his shop and switching to his cardigan. His neck has been hidden for even longer, ever since collars were invented, with the addition or a cravat or tie. Buttoned up all the way to the top, a sign of formality that he shouldn't need around Crowley, especially not now.

His hands are fidgeting with his tie, debating removing it himself, when he feels the kiss tickle the back of his neck. He smiles, settling against Crowley's lanky form while his gaze turns to the bathtub.]

Yes, I believe so.

[He turns, facing Crowley, giving him a meaningful look.]

It's nearly half full already. We ought to get ready for it, hmm?

[ The little demonstration gets a huff of laughter from Crowley, and when he teases, his tone is belies his fondness. ]

Sounds very frivolous. What would the other angels say if they knew?

[ His arms snake around Aziraphale's waist as the angel leans back against him and Crowley plants little kisses in those curls and runs a thumb inquisitively over a lower button of Aziraphale's waistcoat. ]

If you're ready then - may I do the honours, angel?

Oh, i'm sure they'd be cross with me. Yet somehow, I can't give a single fig what any of them might have to say on the matter.

[A far cry from the angel who was willing to let himself get discorporated rather than reprimanded again for using another miracle. He smiles, pleased at how far he's come since then, then shivers and sighs softly at that trail of kisses. Crowley's inquiry gets a nod and a hand reaching up to brush against his.]

Yes, please do.

They really should've appreciated you more if they didn't want you falling into the wicked clutches of an unholy terror.

[ This unholy terror nibbles at the rim of Aziraphale's ear and takes his hand in aforementioned wicked clutches, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Truly a monster to be feared.

The waistcoat buttons are undone at a leisurely pace. Crowley is mindful of the old seams and delicate threads holding them in place, and he takes great care not to accidentally launch one into some far-flung corner of the bathroom. Crowley then trails his fingers delicately up the buttoned up front of his dress shirt, coming to rest on the bow tie. ]

...Bit like unwrapping a present, isn't it?

[ Crowley isn't always the most graceful creature, but he does manage to pull the bow tie free in one fluid motion. ]

[Aziraphale suppresses obvious laughter at the 'unholy terror' business, squirming a little before finally settling down again while Crowley takes his time undoing his waistcoat buttons. It's such a sweet gesture, how careful Crowley is with his possessions. With him. His breath catches as those fingers work their way up to his bow tie, and he has to swallow before replying at all.]

You'll have to let me return the favor, then I'll know for sure.

[But that can wait a little while. His hands flutter a bit, uncertain, before reaching back and landing on Crowley's hips, keeping him close while he continues to be undressed.]

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