Anthony J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inlovewithmycar) wrote2023-06-11 06:36 pm
inlovewithmycar) wrote2023-06-11 06:36 pm
The City Inbox
⛧A.J. CROWLEY⛧
"This is Crowley. I'm not in. You know what to do, so do it with style. Chow." |
[He doesn't push it. If Aziraphale is worried enough to ask Crowley to warn him before he takes a nap, then it's not worth the argument.]
Fine, fine. You have my word. And you should tell me too if you're feeling the sssweet slumberous siren's call too. Don't want you nodding off unguarded.
[He flops back onto the mattress and allows himself a long, luxurious stretch.]
S'a good bed, angel.
Fine, fine. You have my word. And you should tell me too if you're feeling the sssweet slumberous siren's call too. Don't want you nodding off unguarded.
[He flops back onto the mattress and allows himself a long, luxurious stretch.]
S'a good bed, angel.
( a considering pause. )
Alright.
( aziraphale can agree to that. actually, it was his desired outcome for this topic of conversation so he's fairly glad that they could come to an agreement so easily.
his shoulders relax, releasing a little of the tension that they were starting to gather. he casts crowley a sidelong glance, looking at the way he extends across the bed. )
I didn't pick it.
( a reminder.
then he explains. )
I thought I'd wait for your answer before I made any adjustments.
( with that being whether or not he would accept living together. )
Alright.
( aziraphale can agree to that. actually, it was his desired outcome for this topic of conversation so he's fairly glad that they could come to an agreement so easily.
his shoulders relax, releasing a little of the tension that they were starting to gather. he casts crowley a sidelong glance, looking at the way he extends across the bed. )
I didn't pick it.
( a reminder.
then he explains. )
I thought I'd wait for your answer before I made any adjustments.
( with that being whether or not he would accept living together. )
[Immediate answer; the only time he's ever let Aziraphale go to voicemail is if he's literally in the midst of something Downstairs (no longer a problem) or that one time on the eve of Armageddon.
Here? It's always first ring.]
Angel. How you doing?
Here? It's always first ring.]
Angel. How you doing?
[Rolling onto his side with one leg tucked up while the other extends off the side of the bed, Crowley props himself up on his elbow, cheek resting in his palm as he considers this new Arrangement.]
You know, with miracles being what they are at the moment, reckon it would hurt to make any adjustments we might want the human way.
You know, with miracles being what they are at the moment, reckon it would hurt to make any adjustments we might want the human way.
[A familiar click of his fingers and suddenly there is muffled cursing coming from the phone and the narrow storage closet where they keep their cleaning supplies.
Crowley ends the call, manages to disentangle himself from the mop, and stagger out into their condo.]
Aziraphale? I'm here, what's wrong? Where are you?
Crowley ends the call, manages to disentangle himself from the mop, and stagger out into their condo.]
Aziraphale? I'm here, what's wrong? Where are you?
The human way?
( he repeats, voice soft and thoughtful. crowley raises an excellent suggestion. it might be far more trouble than it was worth to figure out a way to use miracles to customise their new residence. )
You might be right. I suppose we should plan an outing then to look at the shops.
( he repeats, voice soft and thoughtful. crowley raises an excellent suggestion. it might be far more trouble than it was worth to figure out a way to use miracles to customise their new residence. )
You might be right. I suppose we should plan an outing then to look at the shops.
Love a good shopping trip, me.
[It's true; Aziraphale can find any number of things that strike his fancy, and Crowley will find any number of things to loudly complain about, and then he'd carry their bags and they'd go get lunch that would inevitably turn into dinner and they'd come home and...]
...Could get used to this whole domestic thing, I reckon.
[It's true; Aziraphale can find any number of things that strike his fancy, and Crowley will find any number of things to loudly complain about, and then he'd carry their bags and they'd go get lunch that would inevitably turn into dinner and they'd come home and...]
...Could get used to this whole domestic thing, I reckon.
( the call remains connected long enough for aziraphale to overhear much of the demon's combat against the mop, broom, and all of its dedicated soldiers in the war against filth.
aziraphale glances at his phone, almost as if it to verify he's hearing things correctly, before setting it face down beside him. )
The bedroom.
( he answers, loud enough to be heard. the angel could be found sitting on the edge of his own bed, dressed down with a cream-coloured cardigan, dress-shirt, and slacks. he's already had to put away his usual, preferred set of clothing—unable to constantly spend the energy to keep the threads together—but his sense of fashion still remains the same.
old.
which is much like he feels at the moment. )
aziraphale glances at his phone, almost as if it to verify he's hearing things correctly, before setting it face down beside him. )
The bedroom.
( he answers, loud enough to be heard. the angel could be found sitting on the edge of his own bed, dressed down with a cream-coloured cardigan, dress-shirt, and slacks. he's already had to put away his usual, preferred set of clothing—unable to constantly spend the energy to keep the threads together—but his sense of fashion still remains the same.
old.
which is much like he feels at the moment. )
[No sign of fire, no smell of smoke, but Aziraphale had sounded quite distressed and Crowley wasn't about to dismiss things out of hand just because nothing was actively on fire at the moment.
He steps into the bedroom and, upon seeing Aziraphale perched on the edge of his bed, weary but safe, and Crowley's hunted expression softens.]
Overdid it on the miracle quota, angel?
[His tone is light as he strides over, sinking onto the bed with his friend.]
...Feel a little nap coming on? Not to fret, I'll keep watch.
He steps into the bedroom and, upon seeing Aziraphale perched on the edge of his bed, weary but safe, and Crowley's hunted expression softens.]
Overdid it on the miracle quota, angel?
[His tone is light as he strides over, sinking onto the bed with his friend.]
...Feel a little nap coming on? Not to fret, I'll keep watch.
It was on purpose.
( not because he wanted to go ahead and get the experience of sleeping over with (it is also this), but because he thought it to be prudent to start measuring how much energy he had in the proverbial tank. so to speak.
slowly, he picks up the notepad with a small list of miracles performed around the home that he'd left sitting behind him. then he offers it over to crowley.
creation → snake mug
creation → wing mug
creation → tea set
creation → box of tartan socks
creation → two sets of condo keys
edit → "fell" & "crowley" added underneath condo door (may reset, recheck tomorrow)
edit → adjusted tea set pattern
edit → changed living room rug colour
edit → darkened office desk colour
this appears to be his limit. as far as miracles go. )
( not because he wanted to go ahead and get the experience of sleeping over with (it is also this), but because he thought it to be prudent to start measuring how much energy he had in the proverbial tank. so to speak.
slowly, he picks up the notepad with a small list of miracles performed around the home that he'd left sitting behind him. then he offers it over to crowley.
creation → snake mug
creation → wing mug
creation → tea set
creation → box of tartan socks
creation → two sets of condo keys
edit → "fell" & "crowley" added underneath condo door (may reset, recheck tomorrow)
edit → adjusted tea set pattern
edit → changed living room rug colour
edit → darkened office desk colour
this appears to be his limit. as far as miracles go. )
[Crowley pulls off his shades and sets them on the beside table before taking the proffered list.
Aziraphale is thorough as ever.
It's also not a lot. The city really has done a number on Aziraphale in ways it hasn't done to Crowley.]
Right. Yeah. We'll... go through this when you wake up, alright? Let's get you ready for bed.
Aziraphale is thorough as ever.
It's also not a lot. The city really has done a number on Aziraphale in ways it hasn't done to Crowley.]
Right. Yeah. We'll... go through this when you wake up, alright? Let's get you ready for bed.
[Crowley snaps his fingers and in a blink of an eye, Crowley's clothing shifts into a set of black silk pyjamas. And in the palm of his hand, neatly folded, another set of soft, fleece in Aziraphale's familiar tartan pattern.]
Want me to do the honours...?
Want me to do the honours...?
[There is no snapping of fingers for this. Just a light touch to Aziraphale's lapel, and then his clothes become the pyjamas Crowley conjured, while his normal attire appears on the seat of the wingbacked chair by the window, all neatly folded, not so much as a stitch out of place.]
How's that? Much better than sleeping in your regular clothes, I guarantee. I think I've still got indents in unspeakable places from the last time I slept in my jeans.
How's that? Much better than sleeping in your regular clothes, I guarantee. I think I've still got indents in unspeakable places from the last time I slept in my jeans.
I'll trust in your expertise.
( his tone is tender, softened by the affection heavy in his voice. crowley doesn't need to do all this—it's not what had been asked of him, but he is still choosing to do it anyway. to help calm aziraphale's nerves about it.
gingerly, aziraphale presses the tips of his fingers against crowley's knuckles in wordless gratitude. )
Now what would you have us do?
( his tone is tender, softened by the affection heavy in his voice. crowley doesn't need to do all this—it's not what had been asked of him, but he is still choosing to do it anyway. to help calm aziraphale's nerves about it.
gingerly, aziraphale presses the tips of his fingers against crowley's knuckles in wordless gratitude. )
Now what would you have us do?
[Crowley has imagined a lot scenarios between himself and Aziraphale. A hazard, he supposes, of having an imagination to begin with. But he has not ever thought about having to walk the angel through sleeping of all things.
He's not sure what to think. ...He certainly knows not to think about Aziraphale accepting those soft pyjamas put on him with an even softer miracle, or how warm his plump and prettily manicured fingers feel against the cool, dry skin of his knuckles. Those are very much not thoughts for just right now.
Instead, he goes through his own routine for getting ready for a nice snooze. He plumps the pillows, and if a mug of hot chocolate with a pump of peppermint syrup appears on the bedside table, he's sure it's just coincidence.]
S'all about making yourself comfortable. Lots of pillows and blanketsss and then you sit up for a little bit, or you just lay down and close your eyes. Depends how tired you're feeling.
He's not sure what to think. ...He certainly knows not to think about Aziraphale accepting those soft pyjamas put on him with an even softer miracle, or how warm his plump and prettily manicured fingers feel against the cool, dry skin of his knuckles. Those are very much not thoughts for just right now.
Instead, he goes through his own routine for getting ready for a nice snooze. He plumps the pillows, and if a mug of hot chocolate with a pump of peppermint syrup appears on the bedside table, he's sure it's just coincidence.]
S'all about making yourself comfortable. Lots of pillows and blanketsss and then you sit up for a little bit, or you just lay down and close your eyes. Depends how tired you're feeling.
( that's a good question.
aziraphale will get back to him once he better learns how to gauge his tiredness level, which may or may not involve note-taking. at the moment, he feels pretty tired. enough so that he didn't want to go through the act of physically changing clothes.
after moving to stand, he carefully peels back the comforter and sheets to allow himself to properly climb into bed. like humans do. he can feel some of his nervousness starting to set back in, deeply uncertain of what might happen next. )
Comfortable.
( said out loud more so for himself. )
You don't imagine I'll sleep too long, will I?
aziraphale will get back to him once he better learns how to gauge his tiredness level, which may or may not involve note-taking. at the moment, he feels pretty tired. enough so that he didn't want to go through the act of physically changing clothes.
after moving to stand, he carefully peels back the comforter and sheets to allow himself to properly climb into bed. like humans do. he can feel some of his nervousness starting to set back in, deeply uncertain of what might happen next. )
Comfortable.
( said out loud more so for himself. )
You don't imagine I'll sleep too long, will I?
Nah.
[Crowley drags out the word with an exaggerated shrug. He can see the way the apprehension sets back in. But he's familiar with the different kinds of tired, and Aziraphale isn't even close to the bone deep exhaustion that has led Crowley to switch himself off for decades at a time. If that were the case, Aziraphale wouldn't be drowsy but otherwise lucid enough to ask probing questions, he'd be face down on the mattress, still in his day clothes and Crowley would be having a bit of a panic.]
Probably a couple hours, maybe through the night if you like it. And --
[He grins, stretching out on his side atop the comforter, propped up on his elbow with his cheek in his palm.]
-- afterwards, we'll go get a nice breakfast. So, nothing to worry about, and plenty to look forward to, yeah?
[Crowley drags out the word with an exaggerated shrug. He can see the way the apprehension sets back in. But he's familiar with the different kinds of tired, and Aziraphale isn't even close to the bone deep exhaustion that has led Crowley to switch himself off for decades at a time. If that were the case, Aziraphale wouldn't be drowsy but otherwise lucid enough to ask probing questions, he'd be face down on the mattress, still in his day clothes and Crowley would be having a bit of a panic.]
Probably a couple hours, maybe through the night if you like it. And --
[He grins, stretching out on his side atop the comforter, propped up on his elbow with his cheek in his palm.]
-- afterwards, we'll go get a nice breakfast. So, nothing to worry about, and plenty to look forward to, yeah?
Hm.
( he makes a quiet little noise, unsure. this demon has been nothing but cavalier about the entire affair, but his own fears feel a little louder. louder, louder, louder.
but he trusts crowley more than he trusts his fear.
aziraphale leans back, letting his head fall against the freshly-fluffed pillow. then he turns to look over at crowley. )
Will you be alright until. . .?
( until he wakes. )
( he makes a quiet little noise, unsure. this demon has been nothing but cavalier about the entire affair, but his own fears feel a little louder. louder, louder, louder.
but he trusts crowley more than he trusts his fear.
aziraphale leans back, letting his head fall against the freshly-fluffed pillow. then he turns to look over at crowley. )
Will you be alright until. . .?
( until he wakes. )
I'll be fine. Gonna stay right here and keep an eye on things.
[He reaches over, brushing a curl from Aziraphale's brow. Ah - his hair really is just that soft, isn't it...?]
You get some rest...
[He grins, and there is the faint sound of a little demonic miracle.]
...and dream of all the things you like best.
[He reaches over, brushing a curl from Aziraphale's brow. Ah - his hair really is just that soft, isn't it...?]
You get some rest...
[He grins, and there is the faint sound of a little demonic miracle.]
...and dream of all the things you like best.
( that's you, crowley.
when the demonic miracle pushes him towards slumber, the last thought on his mind is about crowley. his eyes flutter closed, nearly resisting before ultimately drifting off into a slumber. that's how he sleeps, face turned towards crowley like a sunflower searching for the sun, one hand slightly outstretched in front of him.
in his dreams, they are back at his shop. crowley is kicking off his shoes, complaining loudly about what a terrible night they'd had—they hadn't—pouring the both of them a glass of one of aziraphale's finer vintages. aziraphale puts on one of his records and pushes back against crowley's complaints, regaling him with the historic facts of the play they'd just seen.
it's a perfect evening. just of two of them in the shop. )
when the demonic miracle pushes him towards slumber, the last thought on his mind is about crowley. his eyes flutter closed, nearly resisting before ultimately drifting off into a slumber. that's how he sleeps, face turned towards crowley like a sunflower searching for the sun, one hand slightly outstretched in front of him.
in his dreams, they are back at his shop. crowley is kicking off his shoes, complaining loudly about what a terrible night they'd had—they hadn't—pouring the both of them a glass of one of aziraphale's finer vintages. aziraphale puts on one of his records and pushes back against crowley's complaints, regaling him with the historic facts of the play they'd just seen.
it's a perfect evening. just of two of them in the shop. )
[When Aziraphale awakes, it will be to darkness - or rather a canopy of inky black feathers shielding him from the fierce and deadly elements of their bedroom, while the warm glow of the lamplight peeks through the spaces between Crowley's primaries. It gives just the slightest tint of red to the shiny blackness of it all.
Aziraphale's hand is linked with another; smooth, cool, and dry long fingers tangled with his own.
The only sound is the ticking of a clock and the scratch of a pen on paper. Crowley's lower half is visible, but the wing sheltering Aziraphale from any potential indoor rainstorms or meteor showers blocks his upper half from view.
There is a distinct smell of cocoa still on the bedside table, still as fresh as when Crowley miracled it there.]
Aziraphale's hand is linked with another; smooth, cool, and dry long fingers tangled with his own.
The only sound is the ticking of a clock and the scratch of a pen on paper. Crowley's lower half is visible, but the wing sheltering Aziraphale from any potential indoor rainstorms or meteor showers blocks his upper half from view.
There is a distinct smell of cocoa still on the bedside table, still as fresh as when Crowley miracled it there.]
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