[ 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. ]
[Aziraphale wiggles his hips a little, looking up at Crowley smugly.]
I hardly think we need reading material to put us in the mood, dear. But I'll be sure to humor you, at least once. Just not tonight. Now then, let me fetch the Neruda...
[Which happens to conveniently be sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, along with those silly little reading glasses that he doesn't actually need. With only a little stretching, he's able to retrieve both without moving away from Crowley. A bit of repositioning, and Crowley is the one cuddled up against him while he slips on the glasses and flips through the book.]
Let's see... there's one in particular I'd -- Ah, here it is:
'I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.'"
[ It amazes him what little human things they adopt over time. Things they don't need, and yet want all the same. Crowley adores Aziraphale's glasses. Very smart and fancy little things, and just that touch of very human vanity.
He holds Aziraphale close as he reads, chin on his shoulder as his eyes follow along with each line (Though eventually only focusing on Aziraphale's lips).
The poem hits all too close, Crowley's throat tightening as he swallows his emotions down, and his arms around Aziraphale tighten. There are few things Crowley regrets about his Fall (however much the sheer principle of it still pains him) but there are moments where he has to wonder what an agony it must have been for Aziraphale, a being made to love, loving something deemed - well - utterly unworthy of it. That to do so is akin to treason, and so had to be kept in the peripherals of their lives. Some furtive secret, a vast and utterly unspoken thing.
He presses kisses into Aziraphale's shoulder and throat and cheek, to remind him how loved and adored he is. ]
Bit on the nose wasn't he? That Neruda bloke.
[ Crowley's attempts to sound unaffected fall utterly short. He's talking around a very obvious lump in his throat, and his gaze is terribly soft. ]
[The angel's voice is soft and steady while he reads, but only because he has nearly memorized the words in the relatively short time that he has owned this book of poetry. It hit him much the same way it hits Crowley, the description of a love that blossoms below the surface.]
Well, yes, that's why I'm so fond of his work.
[He hears the emotion in Crowley's voice, and quickly turns his head to return those kisses, one hand leaving the book to cup the demon's cheek reassuringly while he does so.]
This one in particular was a great comfort to me once I realized that I was in love with you. It made it easier somehow, knowing that my love did not have to be a great big showy thing for it to be real or have meaning.
[It was agony, at times, to keep that love all bottled up within himself, but he couldn't risk Crowley's most assured destruction.]
There are others, more sensual than this one. [He steals another small kiss, thumb brushing over Crowley's cheekbone.] Would you like me to read them?
[ As his cheek is cupped, Crowley nuzzles into the palm of Aziraphale's hand. He's always loved the angel's hands. Truly, there isn't an inch of Aziraphale he doesn't adore, but his hands have always been so expressive. The softness of them, the lovely manicures, and the way he clasps them together as though to keep them from fluttering about the way they do when he doesn't feel such a need to keep up appearances...
Crowley presses a kiss to the palm and nods. ]
Would love to hear what he might consider saucy.
[ He relaxes again, his knuckles idly grazing up and down Aziraphale's side. ]
...And your love, it doesn't have to be showy or flashy now. Not if you don't want it to be. It's enough.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
I hardly think we need reading material to put us in the mood, dear. But I'll be sure to humor you, at least once. Just not tonight. Now then, let me fetch the Neruda...
[Which happens to conveniently be sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, along with those silly little reading glasses that he doesn't actually need. With only a little stretching, he's able to retrieve both without moving away from Crowley. A bit of repositioning, and Crowley is the one cuddled up against him while he slips on the glasses and flips through the book.]
Let's see... there's one in particular I'd -- Ah, here it is:
'I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.'"
no subject
He holds Aziraphale close as he reads, chin on his shoulder as his eyes follow along with each line (Though eventually only focusing on Aziraphale's lips).
The poem hits all too close, Crowley's throat tightening as he swallows his emotions down, and his arms around Aziraphale tighten. There are few things Crowley regrets about his Fall (however much the sheer principle of it still pains him) but there are moments where he has to wonder what an agony it must have been for Aziraphale, a being made to love, loving something deemed - well - utterly unworthy of it. That to do so is akin to treason, and so had to be kept in the peripherals of their lives. Some furtive secret, a vast and utterly unspoken thing.
He presses kisses into Aziraphale's shoulder and throat and cheek, to remind him how loved and adored he is. ]
Bit on the nose wasn't he? That Neruda bloke.
[ Crowley's attempts to sound unaffected fall utterly short. He's talking around a very obvious lump in his throat, and his gaze is terribly soft. ]
no subject
Well, yes, that's why I'm so fond of his work.
[He hears the emotion in Crowley's voice, and quickly turns his head to return those kisses, one hand leaving the book to cup the demon's cheek reassuringly while he does so.]
This one in particular was a great comfort to me once I realized that I was in love with you. It made it easier somehow, knowing that my love did not have to be a great big showy thing for it to be real or have meaning.
[It was agony, at times, to keep that love all bottled up within himself, but he couldn't risk Crowley's most assured destruction.]
There are others, more sensual than this one. [He steals another small kiss, thumb brushing over Crowley's cheekbone.] Would you like me to read them?
no subject
Crowley presses a kiss to the palm and nods. ]
Would love to hear what he might consider saucy.
[ He relaxes again, his knuckles idly grazing up and down Aziraphale's side. ]
...And your love, it doesn't have to be showy or flashy now. Not if you don't want it to be. It's enough.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: