[Home. Crowley had never considered that in all his long years, he could be something like that to Aziraphale. With all the things he's feeling right at this very moment, Aziraphale has to hit him with the Inexplicable Yearning; that constant, indescribable ache he always managed to leave Crowley with.
It's definitely something well beyond words to be home to Aziraphale.
Crowley's eyes shut, his forehead pressed against Aziraphale's as his rocking hips slow into longer, deeper thrusts. It's always amazing to him just how mutual their feelings have been - he wonders how long Aziraphale felt that sense of safety and comfort, long before either of them could hint at admitting it...?
If I am a home, then let me be a good one. Warm and safe where there's always a light on. Let me be a place of love, always and forever yours, Crowley thinks, and hopes Aziraphale can feel it because he knows his vocal chords aren't going to cooperate - not when he's trying to kiss every square inch of Aziraphale's lovely face. ]
Mmhhnnphggh -
[ Crowley affirms when Aziraphale asks if he's close, because if his voice wasn't working before, it certainly isn't at the comparison to starlight. He is close, but he can hold out a little longer - indefinitely, with the right miracle - and he wants to feel Aziraphale's release. Feeling the slightest tug on his braid, however, tests his resolve, his cock twitching up against Aziraphale's stomach. Crowley definitely enjoyed the new turn their relationship had taken, but Aziraphale had such a habit gently pulling Crowley apart and piecing him back together with words and gestures that it left the demon both ragged and renewed all at once and he's sure one of these days it's going to, if not discorperate him, at least give him a weird out-of-body experience. ]
[Aziraphale knows he's struck a chord with his words, but he only speaks the truth. Crowley makes him feel safe and loved. Crowley makes him feel like he belongs somewhere, in a way that Heaven never could. He only hopes that he can be the same for Crowley, a home for the demon to rest his weary heart and soak in all the light and love that the angel has to give.
Somehow, in those garbled sounds and sweet kisses, Crowley gets his thoughts across. Aziraphale moans and gasps at the new pattern to their thrusting, rather close to climaxing himself. His grip on Crowley's braid tightens, his other hand ghosting over Crowley's cock, that twitch giving the demon away.]
Would you like to come for me, dearest? There's nothing I love more than watching you let go.
[Knowing that he's responsible for such pleasure is pleasure in and of itself, not to mention the feel of Crowley clenching around him while he comes. Already he can imagine it, the tension within him building to a tight snap.]
[ There's a high, thin whine from Crowley which he'll probably be quite embarrassed about later, but really, what does Aziraphale expect, tugging on his hair like that? Crowley's fingers and toes curl as his pace grows more erratic with each stuttering thrust of his hips.
He's certainly not able to hold out much longer, not with Aziraphale gently coaxing him to climax like that. Crowley's whole body goes rigid, clenching around Aziraphale's cock as he spills between them, leaving their lower abdomens warm and sticky.
Despite this, he continues his erratic thrusting, as though he wants to draw every last drop out of Aziraphale into him. ]
[With his fingers wrapped securely around Crowley's braid, Aziraphale tilts the demon's head back for a kiss, soothing that whine with his lips and tongue. He then lies back and watches, joyously, as Crowley climaxes. What a beautiful sight it is, the unrestrained euphoria, and he drinks it all in until the demon relaxes around him once more.
Only then does he let go of Crowley's hair and grasp both of those still-moving hips, holding tight while he thrusts up into Crowley, quickly chasing his own release until it is upon him like a burst dam. He groans and stills, Crowley held flush against him while he comes, giving the demon exactly what he wants.]
[ Aziraphale's lips to his own are a balm to all the roiling emotions inside of his over-stimulated corporation as he rides out the angel's orgasm. He slows and stills only when he's pulled close, breathless, shaking, and yet still unable to stop finding places to lavish with kisses. When he can finally string words together into a coherent sentence, he sounds ragged and yet joyous, laughter bubbling up from him. ]
Best... bloody... decision... of my life; climbing up that wall to say hello.
[ Crowley cradles Aziraphale's face between his palms, lightly bumping their foreheads together. ]
[Aziraphale lies there, sated and warm, a soft glow accompanying his adoring look as he comes down from his own climax. His hands rub tenderly at Crowley's hips, up his back to his shoulders, a slow and reassuring caress.
The kisses keep him in a pleasant haze, enough that when Crowley speaks, he only gets a hum of agreement in return. A moment later, and he smiles, fingers finding the tip of Crowley's braid and twirling it delicately.]
And I love you, my darling. Dearheart.
[He holds Crowley close, exchanging lazy kisses and letting their physical contact last a while longer. Once he's pulled out and they're clean and sorted, he gives Crowley a curious look.]
You know, you never told me why you wanted to say hello to me in the first place. A bit risky on your part, wasn't it?
[ Crowley echoes it with a soft, muffled laugh, quite liking the sound of it. Well, quite liking the sound of it from Aziraphale - he would probably be either appalled or indifferent to it from anyone else.
He goes nice and soft and relaxed as Aziraphale toys with his braid, his own fingers tracing a trail back and forth along Aziraphale's cheek. ]
Right. Risky. Yeah. You have to promise not to laugh, okay?
[The affront in his voice is pure affectation. He knows that Crowley likes it, even if he's laughing over it. Aziraphale gives him a little tickle along his ribcage in retaliation.]
My brilliant, fiery fiend, then. Who's also sweet and wonderful.
[He turns his head to kiss Crowley's fingers, expression turning serious.]
[ Crowley laughs and squirms again; perhaps from the tickling, perhaps from the barrage of compliments from Aziraphale, or a combination of both. ]
Hey! I didn't say I didn't like it - !
[ When Aziraphale eventually relents, Crowley settles back down, splayed comfortably, albeit haphazardly, over Aziraphale. ]
-Right. The garden. This was - well, it wasn't long after everything had happened. Figured by then, the dust might have time to settle. Thought I'd... I don't stop by, say hello. See which way the wind was blowing.
[ Crowley's cheery tone grows more somber, as he recalls a time where he still had a bit of hope left for Heaven and Hell. ]
I knew things were still bad; family feud and all. But I thought it wouldn't be - well, not permanent, but not perpetual animosity. Maybe give it a couple hundred years and things could change. Not go back to how they were, mind you, but get better. I, uh, well. Didn't much fancy meeting old friends and colleagues on the other end of a sword, yeah?
[ Crowley looks away, resting his cheek on Aziraphale's chest. ]
[Aziraphale keeps playing with the end of Crowley's braid, twirling the loose curl at the end around his finger, while he listens. He doesn't laugh -- far from it, in fact. In those early days, Crowley had been different... more feral, yes, but more innocent, too. It doesn't surprise him that Crowley really was just testing the waters, hoping that Heaven wouldn't hold onto its grudges, but it tugs at his heartstrings, anyway.]
I'm glad you met me, too.
[He holds Crowley close, giving a little squeeze for comfort. When he speaks, his voice has a bit of that somberness, too.]
When I was sent down to guard the Eastern Gate, I was warned that any demons I met would be foul, cruel beings, and I was to spare no mercy. But you were neither of those things. The damage had already been done, anyway, so what did it cost me to be polite? And then --
[His tone shifts; Crowley may have looked away, but he'll be able to hear the smile in the angel's voice and feel the happiness in his chest.]
Well, you were... nice to me. I know you hate that word, dear, but you were. You could have mocked me for giving away my sword or... I don't know, just scorned me in general. No one in Heaven ever really talked to me, but in that conversation, I thought to myself, 'Oh... this must be what having a friend is like...'
Not a bad warning, in general. When you think about it. Heard the same thing, yeah? 'Better watch it, Crawly, those angel's will smite you soon as look at you'. But that wasn't true. You looked, didn't smite.
[ Crowley turns to his usual self-defense mechanism of levity. It can't hurt if you can laugh at it, after all.
The fondness in Aziraphale's tone, however, is a far better balm for such old wounds. ]
Couldn't very well mock you for the thing that sent me arse over teakettle in love with you.
[ Crowley's tone softens and he finally musters enough courage to make eye contact again. He can't help but wonder at what Aziraphale just confessed... ]
You really didn't have any friends? Not even before everything sort of went tits up?
[ It's true the Archangels had always been insufferable, but there must be other angels in Heaven like Aziraphale. Surely there are others. ]
I've never been the smiting type. Not that you would have known that before you met me.
[He blushes at Crowley's confession, smiling a little despite his embarrassment.]
I wished I'd noticed at the time, but I was too busy fretting over what I'd done. Angels don't go around giving their weapons away, you know.
[Or sheltering a demon from the rain with one of their wings, but that's what friends do, and by the time they parted ways, Aziraphale had decided that he liked Crowley, despite him being a demon, and would continue to be friendly to him. If Heaven never directly asked, he never had to mention it, right?
He smiles at Crowley when their eyes meet.]
In the very beginning? There were other angels I got along with in my sphere. But we were all very busy with out duties, we didn't have a lot of time for chit-chat. And then --
[He sighs, suddenly looking rather weary.]
Things weren't the same, after the war. Knowing that it was possible to be cast out of Heaven made everyone a little paranoid, I think. Loyalty to the Great Plan was much more important than loyalty to one another. There were angels with close ties to each other, but the fact that I spent so much time on Earth made me almost like a stranger to them. Certainly none of them understood me the way you do.
I know. S'why it threw me off guard. You just - those humans could've been nothing to you. They barely live more than a century, and the Almighty had just cast them out anyway, and there you go giving them a holy flaming sword -
[ He can hear the weariness in Aziraphale's voice - the weight of those millennia of feeling so utterly alone, even when surrounded by those who were supposed to be friends and allies - it could be absolutely crushing.
He presses a few kisses onto Aziraphale's shoulder, to let him know he's not alone. That he's very much loved and adored. ]
Couple of misfits, you and me. Something must've gone a bit wrong when She made us - never fit in anywhere but here.
The Almighty tasked me with protecting them. I very well couldn't if they were being sent out into the elements. It was the least I could do, really.
[Despite knowing enough to not tell anyone other than Crowley about what happened to the sword, in the core of his very essence, he felt that he did the right thing. Sometimes a moral compass can find true North, even when one's bosses are determined to push it in a different direction.
Aziraphale's smile returns like sunshine, feeling all the love in those shoulder kisses.]
I wouldn't be too sure. She can see all the cards, remember? Besides, if I hadn't given away my sword, I wouldn't have this extraordinarily handsome and charming demon in my bed. It's a win-win for me."
Mmm, yes. Indeed. No other options available to you.
[ His tone is light and teasing as he brushes a few stray curls from Aziraphale's forehead. He's far from done with trying to kiss his love into Aziraphale's skin, and he brushes his lips gently over the angel's forehead. ]
As far as Herself is concerned, I've still got a few grievances I'd like to register. But I suppose it'll have to wait - I've got my hands full with a lovely and dreadfully clever angel for the foreseeable future. Can't really complain since that's how things turned out, yeah?
[Aziraphale tries to look put out by the teasing, but fails spectacularly when Crowley brushes at his hair and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut, the picture of absolute contentment.]
You won't hear a single complaint from me, darling.
[He knows they'll likely never see eye-to-eye on God and Her motives, and that's all right. God's plan is ineffable. Crowley is very much real and knowable, and he's very happy to have him cuddled up in his arms.
Only one thing could make this moment even better...]
Although, if you're taking suggestions, perhaps we can have the ravioli now?
[ Crowley let's out a rumble of laughter, rolling off Aziraphale and curling up at his side instead. ]
Well, I did put you through your paces. Suppose a snack is in order.
[ With a wave of his hand, the pumpkin ravioli and the tiramisu he'd picked up on the way over appear, artfully arranged on plates on a handsome breakfast tray. There's even wine, and a pair of glasses. He presses a few kisses into the soft give of Aziraphale's hip, as if to say 'and this is my snack'. ]
So uh, angel. You know how we were talking about maybe living together earlier...?
[Aziraphale wiggles in delight at the miracle'd display before him. He would have done the same thing, not wanting to leave the bed, but it's thoughtful of Crowley to take care of it instead. Laughter bubbles out of him at Crowley's hip kisses, knowing exactly what his clever demon is implying.]
Sit up with me, dear. You promised you'd give the ravioli a try.
[He pours them both a glass of wine, then looks at Crowley.]
Yes, I remember. Did you want to work out the logistics while we eat?
[ Crowley sucks a mark onto Aziraphale's hip, as if to say he'll be back there later, and slithers up to join Aziraphale, chin rested lazily on his shoulder. Crowley doesn't dislike food - quite the opposite in fact, but large meals tend to leave him feeling lethargic, so he tends to just sample a morsel or two from whatever Aziraphale picks out. ]
And, uh -
[ Crowley shifts nervously. ]
- I mean, if you wanted to get out the city, I've got a place in Sussex. Used it as storage mostly, but. S'nice. Needs some work, probably, haven't done any upkeep on it since we went to work for the Dowlings, but... yeah.
[That earns a squeak from the angel, although really he should expect by now that Crowley will take any opportunity to kiss or mark him, especially if there's a pun involved.
With the edge of his fork, he cuts one of the raviolis in half, revealing its creamy, orange center. The ravioli is in a light brown butter and sage sauce, and he makes sure there are a few flecks of the herb on the bite he brings up to Crowley's mouth, balanced carefully on the tines of the fork.]
Just a nibble. As requested.
[Once Crowley has taken his bite, Aziraphale will eat the other half with his usual amount of gusto. Delicious, as always. He sighs happily at the balance of sweet and savory flavors before looking at Crowley again in surprise.]
You have a place in Sussex?
[And for storage? What has Crowley been keeping there? Is that why his flat in Mayfair is so spartan and bare? He's about to ask until the reason Crowley brought it up in the first place catches up to him. His surprise softens into a tender expression, a hand reaching out to take Crowley's.]
Would you like that? Instead of moving in here, for us to live outside the city and put a home together from scratch?
[ Crowley chews thoughtfully on the offered morsel. It isn't bad, though he's finding he likes the sauce more than the ravioli itself. Still, it's hardly offensive, and surprisingly better than he thought it would be so it gets the 'mm' of approval and the press of a tender kiss to the back of Aziraphale's neck. ]
Dunno - but it's an option, if that sort of thing appeals. You should see it at least - I'd like to get your opinion before I do anything with the place.
[ He manages to keep his tone vague and noncommittal as he doesn't want Aziraphale to feel pressured into a whole new lifestyle. But the way the angel says it, build a home together, makes something old and and broken in him ache. He's never been able to call a place home; even his brief stint as an angel he hadn't been in Heaven much. The closest thing to feeling like somewhere he belonged was just Aziraphale.
But something they build together... Warm summer evenings in the garden, cold winter nights curled up together by the fire in the study, mornings in the kitchen making breakfast together... ]
[That little sound of approval is enough for Aziraphale, the corners of his mouth turning up into a pleased smile. Not that he and Crowley can't have differing tastes in food, so long as he acknowledges that the angel knows what's good.
The rest of the ravioli can wait a moment while he gives Crowley his full attention. Crowley is being so careful with his feelings, as always, not wanting to push. He runs his thumb over Crowley's knuckles in reassurance. It's okay to ask. To want. Just as much for Crowley as for Aziraphale.
I would very much like to see it. Especially whatever you've been squirreling away all these years.
[He takes a look around at the bedroom and his own personal horde.]
I can't imagine parting with the bookshop, but... well, the flat above isn't much of a home, is it? Just the little spaces I've carved out for us. It'd be nice to start fresh, with both of our styles in mind.
I wouldn't ever ask you to give up the shop. Ever.
[ He tries to stubbornly wriggle his way down into the sheets, as if to indicate that the mere thought of selling the bookdshop is unfathomable. ]
It's home. Feels like it's been home even before it was built.
[ It's hard to put it into words, the way that, over the centuries, they gradually converged onto this little corner of a soggy island. And he wants. He wants so much, afraid it's too much -and there is nothing Crowley fears more than Aziraphale swallowing his own needs just to appease the demon. ]
...But yeah, I won't pretend building up from scratch doesn't appeal. And, well, it's not like the cottage is on the other side of the world. S'an hour and a half away -
[ Which means forty five minutes by infernal automobile. ]
- and just imagine how erratic your opening hours would become. How many customers you wouldn't have to deal with.
[ Crowley does a mock swoon in a passable attempt at Aziraphale's prim accent. ]
"Oh, I couldn't possibly stay open another minute. I'm only in town for the weekend and my dreadfully dapper partner will be picking me up for our dinner date any moment now!"
[Aziraphale knows that Crowley would never ask him to give up the shop, but it's nice to hear. Even nicer to know that Crowley thinks of it the same way he does, as this little spot of Earth to settle on and putting down roots. Somehow, without ever explicitly agreeing to it, throwing in their lot with humans instead of their superiors.]
Don't sulk, dear, I know you wouldn't.
[He also knows that Crowley is worried about pushing him into agreeing to something he isn't ready for. But after thousands of years of saying 'no', Aziraphale is eager to start answering 'yes'. Enthusiastically, and without second thoughts.
Crowley's imitation makes him laugh so hard he snorts. There's really no need to convince him, he finds himself warming up to the idea rather quickly.]
Let's take a peek at it tomorrow, hmm? We can see what the neighborhood is like, too. There needs to be at least one decent restaurant. I don't want to have to come back to London every time I'm feeling peckish.
[He goes back to his ravioli, as if to demonstrate, humming happily over his second bite and licking the sauce from the tines of his fork. He's certain that Crowley wouldn't want to miss seeing this on a regular basis.]
[ Crowley hums his agreement into Azirphale's neck, watching with unrestrained delight as the angel enjoys his dinner. Thoughts of holding Aziraphale's hand as they stroll down the country lanes check as they investigate the local dining scene, perhaps trying the occasional free sample. ]
I'll pack a hamper, just in case. Whatever else, the area's on the picturesque side of things. Would make for excellent picnicking.
[ His hands fold over the swell of Aziraphale's stomach, squeezing him in a gentle hug. Crowley knows all too well that the path to Aziraphale's heart starts here and while Crowley's eating habits are far more erratic, it is one of the many earthly pleasures they have in common. ]
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It's definitely something well beyond words to be home to Aziraphale.
Crowley's eyes shut, his forehead pressed against Aziraphale's as his rocking hips slow into longer, deeper thrusts. It's always amazing to him just how mutual their feelings have been - he wonders how long Aziraphale felt that sense of safety and comfort, long before either of them could hint at admitting it...?
If I am a home, then let me be a good one. Warm and safe where there's always a light on. Let me be a place of love, always and forever yours, Crowley thinks, and hopes Aziraphale can feel it because he knows his vocal chords aren't going to cooperate - not when he's trying to kiss every square inch of Aziraphale's lovely face. ]
Mmhhnnphggh -
[ Crowley affirms when Aziraphale asks if he's close, because if his voice wasn't working before, it certainly isn't at the comparison to starlight. He is close, but he can hold out a little longer - indefinitely, with the right miracle - and he wants to feel
Aziraphale's release. Feeling the slightest tug on his braid, however, tests his resolve, his cock twitching up against Aziraphale's stomach. Crowley definitely enjoyed the new turn their relationship had taken, but Aziraphale had such a habit gently pulling Crowley apart and piecing him back together with words and gestures that it left the demon both ragged and renewed all at once and he's sure one of these days it's going to, if not discorperate him, at least give him a weird out-of-body experience. ]
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Somehow, in those garbled sounds and sweet kisses, Crowley gets his thoughts across. Aziraphale moans and gasps at the new pattern to their thrusting, rather close to climaxing himself. His grip on Crowley's braid tightens, his other hand ghosting over Crowley's cock, that twitch giving the demon away.]
Would you like to come for me, dearest? There's nothing I love more than watching you let go.
[Knowing that he's responsible for such pleasure is pleasure in and of itself, not to mention the feel of Crowley clenching around him while he comes. Already he can imagine it, the tension within him building to a tight snap.]
Please, my love. I'll be right behind you.
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He's certainly not able to hold out much longer, not with Aziraphale gently coaxing him to climax like that. Crowley's whole body goes rigid, clenching around Aziraphale's cock as he spills between them, leaving their lower abdomens warm and sticky.
Despite this, he continues his erratic thrusting, as though he wants to draw every last drop out of Aziraphale into him. ]
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Only then does he let go of Crowley's hair and grasp both of those still-moving hips, holding tight while he thrusts up into Crowley, quickly chasing his own release until it is upon him like a burst dam. He groans and stills, Crowley held flush against him while he comes, giving the demon exactly what he wants.]
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Best... bloody... decision... of my life; climbing up that wall to say hello.
[ Crowley cradles Aziraphale's face between his palms, lightly bumping their foreheads together. ]
I love you, you wonderful, magnificent bastard -
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The kisses keep him in a pleasant haze, enough that when Crowley speaks, he only gets a hum of agreement in return. A moment later, and he smiles, fingers finding the tip of Crowley's braid and twirling it delicately.]
And I love you, my darling. Dearheart.
[He holds Crowley close, exchanging lazy kisses and letting their physical contact last a while longer. Once he's pulled out and they're clean and sorted, he gives Crowley a curious look.]
You know, you never told me why you wanted to say hello to me in the first place. A bit risky on your part, wasn't it?
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[ Crowley echoes it with a soft, muffled laugh, quite liking the sound of it. Well, quite liking the sound of it from Aziraphale - he would probably be either appalled or indifferent to it from anyone else.
He goes nice and soft and relaxed as Aziraphale toys with his braid, his own fingers tracing a trail back and forth along Aziraphale's cheek. ]
Right. Risky. Yeah. You have to promise not to laugh, okay?
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[The affront in his voice is pure affectation. He knows that Crowley likes it, even if he's laughing over it. Aziraphale gives him a little tickle along his ribcage in retaliation.]
My brilliant, fiery fiend, then. Who's also sweet and wonderful.
[He turns his head to kiss Crowley's fingers, expression turning serious.]
Not a single laugh, you have my word.
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Hey! I didn't say I didn't like it - !
[ When Aziraphale eventually relents, Crowley settles back down, splayed comfortably, albeit haphazardly, over Aziraphale. ]
-Right. The garden. This was - well, it wasn't long after everything had happened. Figured by then, the dust might have time to settle. Thought I'd... I don't stop by, say hello. See which way the wind was blowing.
[ Crowley's cheery tone grows more somber, as he recalls a time where he still had a bit of hope left for Heaven and Hell. ]
I knew things were still bad; family feud and all. But I thought it wouldn't be - well, not permanent, but not perpetual animosity. Maybe give it a couple hundred years and things could change. Not go back to how they were, mind you, but get better. I, uh, well. Didn't much fancy meeting old friends and colleagues on the other end of a sword, yeah?
[ Crowley looks away, resting his cheek on Aziraphale's chest. ]
Glad I met you, and that you didn't chase me off.
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I'm glad you met me, too.
[He holds Crowley close, giving a little squeeze for comfort. When he speaks, his voice has a bit of that somberness, too.]
When I was sent down to guard the Eastern Gate, I was warned that any demons I met would be foul, cruel beings, and I was to spare no mercy. But you were neither of those things. The damage had already been done, anyway, so what did it cost me to be polite? And then --
[His tone shifts; Crowley may have looked away, but he'll be able to hear the smile in the angel's voice and feel the happiness in his chest.]
Well, you were... nice to me. I know you hate that word, dear, but you were. You could have mocked me for giving away my sword or... I don't know, just scorned me in general. No one in Heaven ever really talked to me, but in that conversation, I thought to myself, 'Oh... this must be what having a friend is like...'
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[ Crowley turns to his usual self-defense mechanism of levity. It can't hurt if you can laugh at it, after all.
The fondness in Aziraphale's tone, however, is a far better balm for such old wounds. ]
Couldn't very well mock you for the thing that sent me arse over teakettle in love with you.
[ Crowley's tone softens and he finally musters enough courage to make eye contact again. He can't help but wonder at what Aziraphale just confessed... ]
You really didn't have any friends? Not even before everything sort of went tits up?
[ It's true the Archangels had always been insufferable, but there must be other angels in Heaven like Aziraphale. Surely there are others. ]
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[He blushes at Crowley's confession, smiling a little despite his embarrassment.]
I wished I'd noticed at the time, but I was too busy fretting over what I'd done. Angels don't go around giving their weapons away, you know.
[Or sheltering a demon from the rain with one of their wings, but that's what friends do, and by the time they parted ways, Aziraphale had decided that he liked Crowley, despite him being a demon, and would continue to be friendly to him. If Heaven never directly asked, he never had to mention it, right?
He smiles at Crowley when their eyes meet.]
In the very beginning? There were other angels I got along with in my sphere. But we were all very busy with out duties, we didn't have a lot of time for chit-chat. And then --
[He sighs, suddenly looking rather weary.]
Things weren't the same, after the war. Knowing that it was possible to be cast out of Heaven made everyone a little paranoid, I think. Loyalty to the Great Plan was much more important than loyalty to one another. There were angels with close ties to each other, but the fact that I spent so much time on Earth made me almost like a stranger to them. Certainly none of them understood me the way you do.
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[ He can hear the weariness in Aziraphale's voice - the weight of those millennia of feeling so utterly alone, even when surrounded by those who were supposed to be friends and allies - it could be absolutely crushing.
He presses a few kisses onto Aziraphale's shoulder, to let him know he's not alone. That he's very much loved and adored. ]
Couple of misfits, you and me. Something must've gone a bit wrong when She made us - never fit in anywhere but here.
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[Despite knowing enough to not tell anyone other than Crowley about what happened to the sword, in the core of his very essence, he felt that he did the right thing. Sometimes a moral compass can find true North, even when one's bosses are determined to push it in a different direction.
Aziraphale's smile returns like sunshine, feeling all the love in those shoulder kisses.]
I wouldn't be too sure. She can see all the cards, remember? Besides, if I hadn't given away my sword, I wouldn't have this extraordinarily handsome and charming demon in my bed. It's a win-win for me."
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[ His tone is light and teasing as he brushes a few stray curls from Aziraphale's forehead. He's far from done with trying to kiss his love into Aziraphale's skin, and he brushes his lips gently over the angel's forehead. ]
As far as Herself is concerned, I've still got a few grievances I'd like to register. But I suppose it'll have to wait - I've got my hands full with a lovely and dreadfully clever angel for the foreseeable future. Can't really complain since that's how things turned out, yeah?
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You won't hear a single complaint from me, darling.
[He knows they'll likely never see eye-to-eye on God and Her motives, and that's all right. God's plan is ineffable. Crowley is very much real and knowable, and he's very happy to have him cuddled up in his arms.
Only one thing could make this moment even better...]
Although, if you're taking suggestions, perhaps we can have the ravioli now?
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Well, I did put you through your paces. Suppose a snack is in order.
[ With a wave of his hand, the pumpkin ravioli and the tiramisu he'd picked up on the way over appear, artfully arranged on plates on a handsome breakfast tray. There's even wine, and a pair of glasses. He presses a few kisses into the soft give of Aziraphale's hip, as if to say 'and this is my snack'. ]
So uh, angel. You know how we were talking about maybe living together earlier...?
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Sit up with me, dear. You promised you'd give the ravioli a try.
[He pours them both a glass of wine, then looks at Crowley.]
Yes, I remember. Did you want to work out the logistics while we eat?
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[ Crowley sucks a mark onto Aziraphale's hip, as if to say he'll be back there later, and slithers up to join Aziraphale, chin rested lazily on his shoulder. Crowley doesn't dislike food - quite the opposite in fact, but large meals tend to leave him feeling lethargic, so he tends to just sample a morsel or two from whatever Aziraphale picks out. ]
And, uh -
[ Crowley shifts nervously. ]
- I mean, if you wanted to get out the city, I've got a place in Sussex. Used it as storage mostly, but. S'nice. Needs some work, probably, haven't done any upkeep on it since we went to work for the Dowlings, but... yeah.
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With the edge of his fork, he cuts one of the raviolis in half, revealing its creamy, orange center. The ravioli is in a light brown butter and sage sauce, and he makes sure there are a few flecks of the herb on the bite he brings up to Crowley's mouth, balanced carefully on the tines of the fork.]
Just a nibble. As requested.
[Once Crowley has taken his bite, Aziraphale will eat the other half with his usual amount of gusto. Delicious, as always. He sighs happily at the balance of sweet and savory flavors before looking at Crowley again in surprise.]
You have a place in Sussex?
[And for storage? What has Crowley been keeping there? Is that why his flat in Mayfair is so spartan and bare? He's about to ask until the reason Crowley brought it up in the first place catches up to him. His surprise softens into a tender expression, a hand reaching out to take Crowley's.]
Would you like that? Instead of moving in here, for us to live outside the city and put a home together from scratch?
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Dunno - but it's an option, if that sort of thing appeals. You should see it at least - I'd like to get your opinion before I do anything with the place.
[ He manages to keep his tone vague and noncommittal as he doesn't want Aziraphale to feel pressured into a whole new lifestyle. But the way the angel says it, build a home together, makes something old and and broken in him ache. He's never been able to call a place home; even his brief stint as an angel he hadn't been in Heaven much. The closest thing to feeling like somewhere he belonged was just Aziraphale.
But something they build together... Warm summer evenings in the garden, cold winter nights curled up together by the fire in the study, mornings in the kitchen making breakfast together... ]
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The rest of the ravioli can wait a moment while he gives Crowley his full attention. Crowley is being so careful with his feelings, as always, not wanting to push. He runs his thumb over Crowley's knuckles in reassurance. It's okay to ask. To want. Just as much for Crowley as for Aziraphale.
I would very much like to see it. Especially whatever you've been squirreling away all these years.
[He takes a look around at the bedroom and his own personal horde.]
I can't imagine parting with the bookshop, but... well, the flat above isn't much of a home, is it? Just the little spaces I've carved out for us. It'd be nice to start fresh, with both of our styles in mind.
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[ He tries to stubbornly wriggle his way down into the sheets, as if to indicate that the mere thought of selling the bookdshop is unfathomable. ]
It's home. Feels like it's been home even before it was built.
[ It's hard to put it into words, the way that, over the centuries, they gradually converged onto this little corner of a soggy island. And he wants. He wants so much, afraid it's too much -and there is nothing Crowley fears more than Aziraphale swallowing his own needs just to appease the demon. ]
...But yeah, I won't pretend building up from scratch doesn't appeal. And, well, it's not like the cottage is on the other side of the world. S'an hour and a half away -
[ Which means forty five minutes by infernal automobile. ]
- and just imagine how erratic your opening hours would become. How many customers you wouldn't have to deal with.
[ Crowley does a mock swoon in a passable attempt at Aziraphale's prim accent. ]
"Oh, I couldn't possibly stay open another minute. I'm only in town for the weekend and my dreadfully dapper partner will be picking me up for our dinner date any moment now!"
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Don't sulk, dear, I know you wouldn't.
[He also knows that Crowley is worried about pushing him into agreeing to something he isn't ready for. But after thousands of years of saying 'no', Aziraphale is eager to start answering 'yes'. Enthusiastically, and without second thoughts.
Crowley's imitation makes him laugh so hard he snorts. There's really no need to convince him, he finds himself warming up to the idea rather quickly.]
Let's take a peek at it tomorrow, hmm? We can see what the neighborhood is like, too. There needs to be at least one decent restaurant. I don't want to have to come back to London every time I'm feeling peckish.
[He goes back to his ravioli, as if to demonstrate, humming happily over his second bite and licking the sauce from the tines of his fork. He's certain that Crowley wouldn't want to miss seeing this on a regular basis.]
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I'll pack a hamper, just in case. Whatever else, the area's on the picturesque side of things. Would make for excellent picnicking.
[ His hands fold over the swell of Aziraphale's stomach, squeezing him in a gentle hug. Crowley knows all too well that the path to Aziraphale's heart starts here and while Crowley's eating habits are far more erratic, it is one of the many earthly pleasures they have in common. ]
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