[ Crowley's expression goes very peculiar. He looks quite happy, but, as always, there's that tinge of melancholy. ]
You know, I dreamed about waking up next to you a couple times. Sun streaming in and you looking all radiant in some flannel pyjamas and a fluffy dressing gown.
[ He strokes along Aziraphale's cheek, ever so fondly. ]
You'd be cooing at a spider plant, spoiling it and giving it ideas above it's station, and I'd go and make us breakfast, and then we'd hunker down in bed, eating toast and getting crumbs everywhere.
[ It feels good to say it, to finally be completely honest about his feelings for Aziraphale, to tell the angel exactly what he's always wanted, and hoping Aziraphale will be on the same page as him on this as well. ]
That - can we have that too? Is that something you'd like?
[There's a flicker of concern on the angel's face when he spots that lingering melancholy, but it quickly melts away, replaced with soft wonder as Crowley confesses to the most domestic of fantasies. It's the kind of love that's forgotten among the confessions and grand gestures, and he finds that his heart aches over the want of it. Not only for himself, but for the chance to give it to Crowley in return.]
I can't think of anything I would like more. Every morning, if that suits you.
[He nuzzles Crowley's cheek, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. When he pulls back, there is an amused twinkle in his eyes.]
But I'd like to skip the pajamas, if that's all right. At least this first time around.
[ Crowley lights up. Really brilliant this whole love thing. He could just say whatever he'd been feeling for ages, only to find Aziraphale really had wanted the same things all along.
Propping himself up, he trails his knuckles up and down Aziraphale's side, that ridiculous grin still on his face. ]
Right. Every day then. Pyjamas optional.
[ He suspected they were probably weren't going to be wearing much in in the weeks to come. ]
Toast optional as well. I suspect you'd like to mix it up a bit. Eggs, bacon, pastries, sausage. Could never get behind sausage m'self; too many mysteries in the meat.
[Aziraphale smiles up at him, content to remain nestled in their pile of pillows, one hand drawing lazy shapes across his narrow chest.]
Sounds lovely.
[There's no café in London that could possibly top breakfast in bed with Crowley. A convenient miracle can take care of any crumbs. Speaking of which, a rather thoughtful expression appears on the angel's face as Crowley lists their options.]
You know what would be a nice treat? Pancakes. The fluffy kind that the Americans like. I haven't had any since we worked for the Dowlings.
[ Loving Aziraphale comes naturally, it seems. Even though one might think this should have changed everything, Crowley is realizing that this was just an extension of a long dance they'd been doing for centuries. Another gradual change, another new step, but still to the same beat.
The world hasn't turned upside down, but rather, it feels like they finally have their feet on solid ground. ]
You know, we could test little Warlock's assessment that I make 'the best pancakes in the whole wide world'. The boy might have been on to something. Or he was just trying to butter me up so I'd buy him those really violent video games his mother didn't want him playing.
[This is the kind of love that Aziraphale thought he'd never get to have, the kind that's expressed in kisses and cuddles and plans for breakfast. The kind that doesn't have to hide out of sight and bury itself under subtle glances and heavy sighs.
He laughs a little at Crowley's anecdote.]
We're lucky he wasn't really the anti-christ, you know, he would have sold us all up the river for video games. But I'm more than willing to be your guinea pig. I'll bet they're scrumptious.
[Aziraphale tucks his head against Crowley's shoulder, preferring that to the pillows.]
Oh, I'm sure I'll manage. So long as you don't make me that artificially-colored macaroni and cheese from a box.
[He shudders at the memory of all those blue and yellow boxes stacked up in the Dowling's pantry before tilting his head just enough to kiss Crowley's chin.]
Now, then. Best you rest up now, you have an angel to feed in the morning.
[Aziraphale knows that tone, but he'll let it slide this time. If Crowley can somehow make boxed macaroni and cheese suit the angel's palate, more power to him.]
I will. Oh, and Crowley?
[His tone is as soft and warm as the rest of him.]
Don't worry about going too fast. I think I've managed to finally catch up.
[ It's reassuring to know he isn't too much, that he hadn't pushed too hard or too soon, and it hits Crowley in a way he doesn't quite expect when he hears it. There's that relief, yes, but even more, he felt a rush of of exhilaration. He grins, face aching from never having smiled this much, and thumbs Aziraphale's cheek. ]
You know, I think you're right.
[ Crowley pauses, his grin softening into a smile. ]
But if you need me to put on the brakes for anything at all, you just say the word. No judgment, no questions asked.
[ Well, maybe some questions asked. The kinds along the lines of 'you okay' and 'do you want to talk about it' seemed innocuous enough. But Crowley felt like this needed to be said in broad strokes. He didn't want to push Aziraphale into something he wasn't ready for. ]
[Aziraphale's smile is demure and not-so-secretly pleased by Crowley's reply. He's wanted to be this close for ages, but for so long it was only wishful thinking on his part. Finally, he's brave enough.
He's never been so happy.
Not wanting to move from his cozy spot, he nuzzles a kiss into the crook of Crowley's neck, arms squeezing him reassuringly.]
Of course, dearest. I trust you. And the same goes for you.
[Crowley may insist that he's a demon with very few boundaries, but Aziraphale does not want to open any old wounds with careless words or assumptions.]
[ There are no words for the joy Crowley feels when Aziraphale trusts him. A laugh escapes him as he gives the angel a tight hug. It's probably the snake part of him that has the demon trying to wrap every limb around Aziraphale's body at once. ]
I know you'd never push. Besides, I'm pretty vocal about when I don't want something.
[ Crowley could be just as stubborn and obstinate as Aziraphale at times. But Crowley highly doubts there's anything Aziraphale could offer that he'd ever refuse. ]
[The angel's soft body is perfect for that kind of hugging, and the angel himself is most pleased by Crowley's snake-like cuddle, if his content sigh is any indication. He'd happily cuddle Crowley while he was a snake, too, but one thing at a time.]
Oh, believe me, dear, I know.
[He says it fondly, recalling the string of incoherent syllables that Crowley likes to spit out whenever he suggests going to a book auction or a "gloomy" play. Arguing over such petty things is more for the fun of it than anything.]
All the same, this is very new for me. And I want to do right by you, as best I can.
[ Crowley has always liked the softness of Aziraphale's physique. There's something about that's always suited the angel, in the same way whatever form Crowley takes, there's always a long, stretched quality to him. It just feels right to be a certain way.
He hums contentedly, nuzzling into the crown of Aziraphale's head. ]
It's all pretty new for me too. There's a lot for us to get used to, so don't be afraid of getting it wrong, yeah?
[ He knew they both had their issues in that department. Six thousand years of conditioning was going to be tough to break. ]
Oh, I'm so terribly good at that, though. Being afraid of getting it wrong, I mean.
[He means it as a bit of self-deprecating humor, but realizes after he says it that it's far too true to be funny. He presses a kiss into Crowley's warm skin and adds with a murmur:]
But I'm sure we'll muddle our way through somehow and come out all the better for it. We always do.
[ He knows what Aziraphale is doing and Crowley is having none of it. Aziraphale gets a punitive squeeze to his buttock, as though Crowley is trying to squeeze Heaven's conditioning out of him like an over-saturated sponge. ]
We've been getting it wrong for centuries, and seemed to have managed okay. Must be doing a few things right. Eventually. Where it matters.
[ And that was the important part. They may have both been just as lost and confused as everyone else, but they still managed to figure things out enough to manage. Eventually. When it matters. ]
[Aziraphale yelps at the butt squeeze and retaliates by blowing a raspberry against Crowley's throat. But he's laughing, too, so Crowley must have done the right thing.]
My darling, so long as I can hold you in my arms like this at the end of the day, I'm willing to keep trying.
[ Crowley yelps and fails to suppress a reflexive laugh and a full body spasm. Right, he is definitely more sensitive to Aziraphale's touch than he ever would have suspected.
Not that he minds.
Crowley relaxes again, rubbing a few soothing circles where he squeezed. ]
Angel, there is nowhere I'd rather be than here, just like this.
[Crowley's reaction is delightful enough that Aziraphale is tempted to give him another raspberry, but he refrains. Crowley's cuddling is too precious to interrupt twice.
With a satisfied hum at having his ego (and bottom) soothed, he lays his head back down and lazily strokes Crowley's side.]
[ Crowley sighs happily. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of those words. Not hearing them. Not saying them.
There's a serpentine ripple of muscle that follows Aziraphale's touch. Crowley had never quite gotten the whole human physique right, and he's quite a bit more bendy than is strictly possible. He's at least aware that adding a few more vertebrae so he could coil his torso around Aziraphale would be far more unsettling than endearing. ]
Love you too, 'Ziraphale. Always.
[ He stretches lazily, yellow eyes drooping a bit. ]
...You sure you don't mind if I kip a bit? Can stay awake if you want company.
[ He slithers suggestively against Aziraphale, grinning. 'Company' could clearly entail quite a few things. ]
[Aziraphale smiles to himself and smooths out those ripples with the palm of his hand. He'd somehow get used to whatever serpentine violations of biology Crowley felt like committing, although it might be better if he simply goes full snake if his goal is to wrap around Aziraphale completely.
He'll never tire of hearing or saying those words, either.]
It's entirely up to you, darling. I could even read to you, if you like. There's no shortage of material up here.
[ Crowley says it almost dreamily, with just a hint of that raw, naked yearning he'd laid bare at Aziraphale's feet earlier. Crowley didn't read much - not that he couldn't, but he didn't derive the same pleasure from it as Aziraphale. But he did love a good audio book, and he loves Aziraphale's voice and Aziraphale reading to him would be just wonderful. Even if it's one of the angel's gloomy favourites, Crowley knows he'd enjoy it. ]
[Even if Aziraphale hadn't already offered, how could he say no to such a request? How many times had he already daydreamed of Crowley curled up against him, or his head in his lap, while Aziraphale turned pages and read to him?]
Of course, dear.
[He lifts his head to kiss Crowley's neck --
-- and immediately gives him another raspberry for the House of Holes comment.]
Now listen here, you cheeky thing. I'm not about to waste my time reading to you silly sexual scenarios when you've already proven to me that the real deal is infinitely better.
[His expression shifts from faux stern to quietly optimistic.]
I have a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda that you might like. May I read you those?
[ Crowley can feel his cheeks stretching. He hasn't laughed and smiled so much since - ever. To say he's giddy would be an understatement. ]
Alright, angel, you win. Pablo Nerudo it is. But mark my words, I'll get you to read something raunchy one day - maybe help put us in the mood.
[ Not that Crowley needs any help on that front. He tends to be in the mood whenever Aziraphale so much as flutters his eyelashes vaguely in his direction. ]
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no subject
You know, I dreamed about waking up next to you a couple times. Sun streaming in and you looking all radiant in some flannel pyjamas and a fluffy dressing gown.
[ He strokes along Aziraphale's cheek, ever so fondly. ]
You'd be cooing at a spider plant, spoiling it and giving it ideas above it's station, and I'd go and make us breakfast, and then we'd hunker down in bed, eating toast and getting crumbs everywhere.
[ It feels good to say it, to finally be completely honest about his feelings for Aziraphale, to tell the angel exactly what he's always wanted, and hoping Aziraphale will be on the same page as him on this as well. ]
That - can we have that too? Is that something you'd like?
[ His very own domestic demon? ]
no subject
I can't think of anything I would like more. Every morning, if that suits you.
[He nuzzles Crowley's cheek, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. When he pulls back, there is an amused twinkle in his eyes.]
But I'd like to skip the pajamas, if that's all right. At least this first time around.
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Propping himself up, he trails his knuckles up and down Aziraphale's side, that ridiculous grin still on his face. ]
Right. Every day then. Pyjamas optional.
[ He suspected they were probably weren't going to be wearing much in in the weeks to come. ]
Toast optional as well. I suspect you'd like to mix it up a bit. Eggs, bacon, pastries, sausage. Could never get behind sausage m'self; too many mysteries in the meat.
no subject
Sounds lovely.
[There's no café in London that could possibly top breakfast in bed with Crowley. A convenient miracle can take care of any crumbs. Speaking of which, a rather thoughtful expression appears on the angel's face as Crowley lists their options.]
You know what would be a nice treat? Pancakes. The fluffy kind that the Americans like. I haven't had any since we worked for the Dowlings.
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The world hasn't turned upside down, but rather, it feels like they finally have their feet on solid ground. ]
You know, we could test little Warlock's assessment that I make 'the best pancakes in the whole wide world'. The boy might have been on to something. Or he was just trying to butter me up so I'd buy him those really violent video games his mother didn't want him playing.
no subject
He laughs a little at Crowley's anecdote.]
We're lucky he wasn't really the anti-christ, you know, he would have sold us all up the river for video games. But I'm more than willing to be your guinea pig. I'll bet they're scrumptious.
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[ He grins, settling back down so he can wrap Aziraphale up snug in his arms. ]
It might be a bit much for your refined tastes.
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Oh, I'm sure I'll manage. So long as you don't make me that artificially-colored macaroni and cheese from a box.
[He shudders at the memory of all those blue and yellow boxes stacked up in the Dowling's pantry before tilting his head just enough to kiss Crowley's chin.]
Now, then. Best you rest up now, you have an angel to feed in the morning.
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[ He says in that innocent way of his that suggests he is absolutely scheming the best way to get Aziraphale to eat a boxed abomination to cuisine.
Settling in, Crowley snuggles close, draping an arm and leg over Aziraphale. ]
Wake me when you get a bit peckish then, love. Or any other appetites I might be able to sate. You know me, pedal to the metal, always ready to go.
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I will. Oh, and Crowley?
[His tone is as soft and warm as the rest of him.]
Don't worry about going too fast. I think I've managed to finally catch up.
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You know, I think you're right.
[ Crowley pauses, his grin softening into a smile. ]
But if you need me to put on the brakes for anything at all, you just say the word. No judgment, no questions asked.
[ Well, maybe some questions asked. The kinds along the lines of 'you okay' and 'do you want to talk about it' seemed innocuous enough. But Crowley felt like this needed to be said in broad strokes. He didn't want to push Aziraphale into something he wasn't ready for. ]
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He's never been so happy.
Not wanting to move from his cozy spot, he nuzzles a kiss into the crook of Crowley's neck, arms squeezing him reassuringly.]
Of course, dearest. I trust you. And the same goes for you.
[Crowley may insist that he's a demon with very few boundaries, but Aziraphale does not want to open any old wounds with careless words or assumptions.]
no subject
I know you'd never push. Besides, I'm pretty vocal about when I don't want something.
[ Crowley could be just as stubborn and obstinate as Aziraphale at times. But Crowley highly doubts there's anything Aziraphale could offer that he'd ever refuse. ]
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Oh, believe me, dear, I know.
[He says it fondly, recalling the string of incoherent syllables that Crowley likes to spit out whenever he suggests going to a book auction or a "gloomy" play. Arguing over such petty things is more for the fun of it than anything.]
All the same, this is very new for me. And I want to do right by you, as best I can.
no subject
He hums contentedly, nuzzling into the crown of Aziraphale's head. ]
It's all pretty new for me too. There's a lot for us to get used to, so don't be afraid of getting it wrong, yeah?
[ He knew they both had their issues in that department. Six thousand years of conditioning was going to be tough to break. ]
no subject
[He means it as a bit of self-deprecating humor, but realizes after he says it that it's far too true to be funny. He presses a kiss into Crowley's warm skin and adds with a murmur:]
But I'm sure we'll muddle our way through somehow and come out all the better for it. We always do.
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We've been getting it wrong for centuries, and seemed to have managed okay. Must be doing a few things right. Eventually. Where it matters.
[ And that was the important part. They may have both been just as lost and confused as everyone else, but they still managed to figure things out enough to manage. Eventually. When it matters. ]
no subject
My darling, so long as I can hold you in my arms like this at the end of the day, I'm willing to keep trying.
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Not that he minds.
Crowley relaxes again, rubbing a few soothing circles where he squeezed. ]
Angel, there is nowhere I'd rather be than here, just like this.
no subject
With a satisfied hum at having his ego (and bottom) soothed, he lays his head back down and lazily strokes Crowley's side.]
Good. I love you, Crowley. Always.
no subject
There's a serpentine ripple of muscle that follows Aziraphale's touch. Crowley had never quite gotten the whole human physique right, and he's quite a bit more bendy than is strictly possible. He's at least aware that adding a few more vertebrae so he could coil his torso around Aziraphale would be far more unsettling than endearing. ]
Love you too, 'Ziraphale. Always.
[ He stretches lazily, yellow eyes drooping a bit. ]
...You sure you don't mind if I kip a bit? Can stay awake if you want company.
[ He slithers suggestively against Aziraphale, grinning. 'Company' could clearly entail quite a few things. ]
Maybe read with you a bit?
no subject
He'll never tire of hearing or saying those words, either.]
It's entirely up to you, darling. I could even read to you, if you like. There's no shortage of material up here.
no subject
[ Crowley says it almost dreamily, with just a hint of that raw, naked yearning he'd laid bare at Aziraphale's feet earlier. Crowley didn't read much - not that he couldn't, but he didn't derive the same pleasure from it as Aziraphale. But he did love a good audio book, and he loves Aziraphale's voice and Aziraphale reading to him would be just wonderful. Even if it's one of the angel's gloomy favourites, Crowley knows he'd enjoy it. ]
Yess. Please.
[ He grins, yellow eyes bright with mischief. ]
...Should I go grab House of Holes?
[ Sometimes he truly can't help himself. ]
no subject
Of course, dear.
[He lifts his head to kiss Crowley's neck --
-- and immediately gives him another raspberry for the House of Holes comment.]
Now listen here, you cheeky thing. I'm not about to waste my time reading to you silly sexual scenarios when you've already proven to me that the real deal is infinitely better.
[His expression shifts from faux stern to quietly optimistic.]
I have a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda that you might like. May I read you those?
no subject
Alright, angel, you win. Pablo Nerudo it is. But mark my words, I'll get you to read something raunchy one day - maybe help put us in the mood.
[ Not that Crowley needs any help on that front. He tends to be in the mood whenever Aziraphale so much as flutters his eyelashes vaguely in his direction. ]
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