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[inlovewithmycar]

 

 

 

 

OPEN POST FOR
MEME OVERFLOWS
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OTHER VERY EXCITING THINGS

 

 

 

 

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[inlovewithmycar]

Malbec. Right.

[ He takes the glass in a daze, fingers only lightly brushing Aziraphale's in the exchange, before something, suddenly occurs to him. He fishes around in his jacket pocket and, like a magician about to unveil a particularly complex trick, he produces... ]

...A pen. As promised.

[ Not for nothing, it's a nice pen. Sleek, black, with silver filigree around the cap. But there it is. Crowley taking a dangerous leap, calling Aziraphale's bluff, if it was ever a bluff at all. ]

It can even write underwater. Should do the trick.

[ He takes a sip of the dark wine, his brow having migrated halfway up the vast expanse of his forehead as he watches for Aziraphale's reaction. Your move, angel. ]

[sohoangel]

[Aziraphale is about to return to his armchair when Crowley pulls out the pen from his pocket. He spends several seconds staring at the pen, then another few looking from the pen to Crowley and back again while his brain tries to follow this turn of events to its logical conclusion.]

Ah. So it should.

[He sits down on the other end of the couch with a soft whump, wine glass still in hand. Crowley really does want to sign his underwear. He takes a sip of wine, then another, then downs the entire glass.]

...are you expecting me to be underwater for this?

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Crowley follows suit, downing his own glass in one go. Shame, as it's rather good. He does like the sweeter wines.

But he needs the liquid courage, because he feels like they're dancing on the edge of something here. ]

Angel, I'm going to be honest, I have no idea what I should be expecting right now. Up to an hour ago, I thought I knew where I stood, but I now I've got 'Property of Aziraphale' in your handwriting on my pants, and a text about your own knickers, so I'm just trying to come at this with an open mind, really.

[ A wave of his hand and he's topped them both up. ]

[sohoangel]

[Crowley's honest statement is oddly comforting, even if it's merely admitting that he's as lost as Aziraphale is. He smiles softly and takes another sip of wine.]

Well, that makes two of us, then. I... I know we had a lot to drink last night, and I don't entirely remember the circumstances around signing your undergarments, but...

[He tries his best to keep his eyes focused on Crowley's sunglasses, as little as they tell him.]

It's the sentiment behind it. I-if I were to have you sign mine. That we... you know. Belonged to one another. Especially after everything we've been through together.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Crowley gives a lopsided smile, looking, for the moment, a bit less jittery. ]

Does have a certain appeal, yeah.

[ He's trying to sound cool, collected, but the idea of belonging to Aziraphale has his mind going in the kind of circles that make him a little rash, a little impulsive, and so he scoots closer, arm surreptitiously sneaking over the back of the sofa just-so it wasn't quite around Aziraphale's shoulder, but it could be if that's where this evening might go. ]

Humans do something like that, you know. Only it's bits of paper they sign, not underthings. Might even involve a ring or two.

[sohoangel]

It does? I mean, you think --

[Aziraphale does not hide how happy, how relieved that makes him, to hear that Crowley likes the idea of belonging to one another. He gives his shoulders a little wiggle and scoots closer as well, until his knee bumps into Crowley's.

And then Crowley brings up marriage -- indirectly, but most obviously -- and the angel's brain stutters to a halt once more.]

Oh, I... oh. I rather suppose it does. That... has a certain appeal to me, too.I always thought it was nice when humans did it. For the right reasons, of course.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Emboldened by Aziraphale's scoot closer, Crowley's devilish grin softens into a warm smile. He pushes his shades up so that they're settled on top of his head and gives an emphatic nod. ]

Right reasons, yeah. Can't just go -

[ He gestures with his wine glass to the open yonder of the bookstore. ]

-go signing any old pair of knickers, right? Gotta belong to the right angel-

[ Crowley paused. ]

Person. I mean - the right person.

[sohoangel]

[Crowley's smile is disarming, the sight of his earnest yellow eyes even more so. His gaze follows the gesture towards the outside world before returning to Crowley's face. He much prefers to keep his attention on what's happening between them.]

I know what you meant, dear.

[He takes a sip of wine and carefully, as if afraid Crowley might jerk away, places his hand on the demon's knee.]

Yours are the only pair of knickers I'd want to sign.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Crowley does jerk (well, more of a twitch), but not away. There is a delicious shiver that goes up and down his spine, and he feels compelled to lay his hand over Aziraphale's. Maybe give it the gentlest of squeezes.

This isn't how he expected this to go (if he ever had any expectations of it happening at all). He isn't sure how he'd picture it happening - probably with one or both of them shedding tears and a very serious conversation. Definitely with more than one glass of wine in either of them.

...Several bottles at least.

But other things have been easier after the failed apocalypse, so perhaps this is just an extension of that. No more hiding, no more pretending. He rather likes that last bit. ]

Likewise. Wouldn't dream of putting my name on anyone else's.

[sohoangel]

[A serious conversation will most definitely come later, along with those tears. But right now, Aziraphale is suddenly overwhelmed with a heady mixture of hope and joy. It pushes within him and makes him feel like he could float right up to the ceiling of his bookshop. His hand shakes between Crowley's knee and the comforting weight of Crowley's hand upon it.]

Good. That's good.

[He finishes off his second glass of wine without a thought and sets it on the table. His eyes catch sight of Crowley's pen.]

I want you to. Sign them, I mean, I just... I imagined I'd have a bit more wine inside me first.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Crowley gives an emphatic nod. ]

Can't fault your logic there - when it last happened we were, howshouldIputit, sloshed? Black-out blotto? I genuinely wish I could remember last night at all. Don't even remember sobering up.

[ Which might explain the hangover he had.

He picks up the pen and wiggles it back and forth between his fingers, brow arched suggestively. ]

So, now...? Or should we get through a few more bottles of this? Maybe run the tub, see if this thing can really write underwater.

[ It was surprisingly nice to talk about things like this. Without so much as the awkward discomfort he would have ever expected - just their usual back-and-forth that they had going since, well, The Beginning. ]

[sohoangel]

[Aziraphale shakes his head a little at the idea.]

I'd prefer not to drink that much. I don't want to forget this later. [He gives Crowley's knee a squeeze.] Although there is a silver lining to you not remembering, is there? You wouldn't have texted me about it, otherwise.

[He smiles, then outright laughs at the idea of running the tub.]

Would you like some sort of dramatic recreation of your trial? Or, ah... [He trails off, a blush on his face.] Well, a bath would be rather nice, wouldn't it? You ought to let me have another go at your pants, though. It's terribly unfair that neither of us remember it, now that I think about it.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ Crowley nods. He isn't sure about Aziraphale, but he definitely wants a reasonably clear head if they were going to be down to their underthings. No chance of forgetting a second time. ]

A bath sounds incredible right now. You think your tub'll fit the two of us?

[ And the thought of Aziraphale doing a bit of drama in all his angelic glory? Absolutely splendid. Crowley always thought the angel had a secret penchant for theatrics that he never really got a chance to let loose.

He grins, bumping up against Aziraphale's shoulder. ]

And my pants are all yours. Could always sign the front too. So no one has any misconceptions about exactly who I belong to.

[sohoangel]

[Aziraphale gives Crowley a droll look, head tilted just so. If his bathtub wouldn't have fit the two of them before, it certainly does now.] Oh, I believe that it does. Although I might need to give it a bit of a sprucing up first.

[Performing stage magic had been Aziraphale's only outlet for such theatrics. He never got good at the sleight of hand part, but the spectacle? That he had down to a science.

Ducking his gaze, he smiles shyly and nudges Crowley back, simultaneously amused by the conversation and flustered over where it will eventually lead.]

I'll sign wherever you like, dear.

[inlovewithmycar]

Really? You with your creature comforts, I'd thought your bath would be the one thing here that's always spruced.

[ It's easier, he thinks, to come at the crux of the matter like this. With smiles, and joking and innuendo.

Come at it sideways, or backwards, or anything but headlong because this thing between them is huge and hungry and daunting, growing half-starved for millennia. A slow approach. A gentle approach. Careful, cautious, but an approach nonetheless.

Crowley's arm moves from the back of the sofa and wraps around Aziraphale's shoulder,holding him the way he's wanted to for ages with the sort of careless, casual affection they could never get away with before. There had been eyes everywhere. Might still be there, but they cast their die and now they didn't have to give a solitary fuck who saw them. ]

[sohoangel]

[Aziraphale tenses under the weight of Crowley's arm -- a span of a breath -- and then cozies up quite comfortably underneath it. He has wanted this for so long, even before he could admit to himself the depth of his feelings, this simple gesture of affection. It was never allowed before, and in the time following Armageddon, it seemed nearly too daunting, taking that leap from best friends to -- to belonging to one another.

He tried sneaking up on it, tricking his anxieties with alcohol and playful banter. But he doesn't reach for his glass of wine now, even though he said he needed more of it. It'd dislodge Crowley's touch, and that's the last thing he wants.]

I haven't used it in a while, not since the Adam was born. I never knew when Gabriel might pop in, asking to purchase some pornography.[He rolls his eyes hard at that.] I've already been criticized about eating and running a bookshop, the last thing I needed was a lecture about relaxing in the bath.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ He feels the tension spike in Aziraphale, and he's about to put his arm back over the side of the couch when it just as suddenly dissipates and suddenly Aziraphale is cuddled up quite comfortable to his side. Warm thinks the snake part of him. The rest; celestial, infernal, human - it all thinks this is it. Everything you've been searching for.

He was so caught up in the flood of emotions that he almost missed the little remark about Gabriel.

Stunned, Crowley let's out a sound that's somewhere between a scandalized squawk and a laugh; ]

He asked to purchase what?! Does... does he even - no. Don't answer that. I don't want to know.

[ Crowley considers what he just said. Never had there ever been a more blatant lie ]

No actually, I do want to know. Tell me everything because what - and I mean this in every possible way - the ever loving fuck does His Holiness the Archangel Effing Gabriel want with pornography?

[sohoangel]

[Aziraphale is always warm, but even more so cuddled up so delectably against Crowley. It's so nice, it's perfect. That feeling of floating up to the ceiling returns and he gives Crowley's knee another squeeze, as if to remind himself that it's all real, that they can have this.

Crowley's laughter makes him smile, as it always does, even if the topic himself has him letting out a sigh of annoyance.]

Oh, Crowley, it was utterly ridiculous. Gabriel and Sandalphon had dropped by to update me on Armageddon, and I suppose Gabriel was looking for a way to speak with me privately, so he asked to purchase some pornography -- very loudly, I might add -- in front of the humans there! It was terribly embarrassing, although I'm not sure he even knew what he was asking. Sandalphon supplied him with the term.

[inlovewithmycar]

Of course it was Sandalphon - oily prick.

[ Crowley tries for a dismissive and offhand sort of tone, but couldn't quite disguise the air of genuine resentment. He was never going to let what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah go. ]

Why not just ask to speak privately? You know, like normal people do? I come in and do that all the time. Not exactly hard. Bet they stood out like a pair of sore thumbs.

[ The squeeze to his knee prompts Crowley to rub Aziraphale's shoulder. It's less a massage, more of a comforting gesture - you poor thing, having to put up with such incompetence, let me take care of you. ]

[sohoangel]

[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.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ 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.

[sohoangel]

[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.

[inlovewithmycar]

[ 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. ]

[sohoangel]

[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.]

[inlovewithmycar]

[ 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.