bookshopped | IC Contact

My fault? Impossible. I'm a consummate innocent in all of this. Clearly.

[How dare, Crowley. How dare. He glances at his cup of tea, steaming away, considers it for a moment and then decides against it, opting instead for something warmer and moving to tuck himself in beside his demon.]

You've never been innocent. 's one of the things I like about you.

[ He smiles, soft and sweet, shifting to wrap an arm around the angel. ]

Guess who I ran into on the way home today. Purple eyes, questioning his whole existence.

Well. Difficult to argue in that case.

[So he won't. Instead he glances over at Crowley sighing with a shake of his head.] Good lord. Gabriel. He's... struggling, isn't he?

[It's the kindest term he can manage. Slightly kinder than a total wreck or having a slow motion breakdown.]

...he hasn't threatened you at all, has he? [Because Aziraphale made it very clear how very much that would not fly.]

No, he hasn't.

[ He turns his head to press a kiss to Aziraphale's temple. ]

He's made it very clear that he has an agreement with you, and he's going to hold to it. Going through all the psychological fallout of Falling, without actually having Fallen.

Good. I'd really prefer not to kill him.

[Seems like it would be messy. He turns towards that kiss, humming a pleased little sound despite, you know, vague death threats. He's in a good mood.]

It seems that way. And on top of it, he's coming to terms with millennia of being a sanctimonious prat and thinking it wasn't his choice to be exactly that.

[That's rough, clearly.] I think he tried to apologize to me.

[ Aziraphale's bluntness still surprises Crowley - not in a bad way! It's very endearing! ]

Yeah, I told him he had to.

I mean, he did try to kill you. Probably wasn't a very good apology, though.

[It's simple fact. He's never killed anything (on purpose, and he absolutely fixed up the poor unfortunate dove or two he didn't survive his magic act) and he doesn't want to start, but where Crowley's life is concerned -- and Adam's for that matter -- it's a line he's willing to cross.]

Entirely terrible, yes.

[But more importantly.] You told him he had to? [That's entirely too sweet somehow.] You're sweet, you know.

Well, yeah, he has to! He tried to kill you. Angels aren't supposed to do that sort of thing. He should feel bad about it.

[ His people, well, attempted murder was sort of expected from his lot. But the angels were supposed to be better than that. They could never deserve Aziraphale, but they could at least try. ]

He should be down on his knees, begging your forgiveness.

[Ah. Aziraphale turns then, into Crowley, wrapping his arms around the demon and tucking himself in quite comfortably up against him. He's gotten very fond of the whole physical affection thing in a remarkably short time. It's comfortable. And comforting.]

And Hell tried to destroy you. That's the piece of it that I can't forgive, apology or no. Heaven handed them the holy water without any reservation.

[And that right there is unforgivable.]

They would've tried it, sooner or later.

[ Crowley snorts faintly. ]

I'm a demon, after all.

You're my demon, and I'm very much not okay with anyone trying to destroy you. Sooner, later, ever.

[Well. Now he's feeling huffy about it too, more than a bit agitated. In his defense, the idea of losing Crowley has always been terrifying and is now more than ever.]

[ Crowley reaches out, takes Aziraphale's hand in his, presses a kiss to his palm. ]

I know. Nothing's going to happen to me. Or you. Gabriel is too busy stewing in his own existential crisis at the moment.

[Okay. Fine. That mollifies him at least a little. He may still be sulking at the whole idea really.]

I'm not worried about Gabriel coming for me. Here at least, existential crisis or no, we're on a level playing field in this world. ...he seemed a little too ebullient when he left me earlier though.

[Happy Gabriels are creepy.]

I'm certain that can't be a good sign.

He thinks he's got it figured out, you know.

[ And yet, Crowley doesn't seem concerned. ]

He thinks we survived because the Almighty loves us.

Does he? That's... that's fine, actually. Better he thinks that than actually figures it out.

[And really, maybe She does love them. God works in mysterious and ineffable ways, after all. Maybe even through the final prophecy from the only entirely accurate prophet in history, a book that only landed in their hands at that moment through a strange and unaccountable chain reaction.

Or maybe not. Whatever the reason, they're still here.

Anyway, far more importantly.]

He called you my husband, you know.

[ Crowley's been rather dwelling on the thought since Gabriel spoke it aloud, actually. Ineffability blah blah. Crowley would never presume to know what goes through Her head at any given time. He'd entertain the idea that She loves Aziraphale, though - mostly because Aziraphale is incredibly easy to love, in his experience.

It's the part where the archangel has convinced himself that God loves Crowley, that's got him confused. He's a demon. He Fell. One of Heaven's permanently exiled. The whole point is that God no longer loves him.

But instead of saying that aloud, he just makes one of his little sounds. Like, mmf. ]

Marriage was invented by humans once they started claiming patches of land and saying "this is mine and my children will have it after I die".

[ He peers at Aziraphale. ]

But leave it to an archangel to oversimplify something.

[If Aziraphale had any idea what was going on inside, well, he'd have opinions on that as well. He can't pretend to understand the Almighty's thoughts or actions on, well, anything. Never mind on falling and the fallen. But he's known Crowley. He knows the spark of good within him all too well. And shouldn't God be able to see that too? How could She not love this being who has managed love and kindness despite being cast away?

He purses his lips at the sound Crowley makes.]

Yes well, but these days they come with cake and a party.

[Weddings, that is. Less the marriage that follows after. Not nearly enough obligatory cake in marriage.]

[ Crowley blinks at the angel. ]

Are you saying you want a cake and a party so you can go around calling me your husband?

I want a cake and a party so that I can eat cake, at a party.

[So there. But well, about that.]

I want to go around calling you my husband because I like the sound of it. And what it means.

[A pause as he hesitates, expression faltering and hands dropping to clasp in front of him as he considers.] Oh... Though I suppose that's moving too fast, isn't it?

[ Oh, there he goes, getting skittish again. Crowley reaches for him, taking those hands, stopping them from wringing with worry the way he so often does. Pulls him in for a soft kiss. ]

You can go around calling me whatever you want. I mean, it can't get much worse than lover, anyway.

[ Okay, so that's still half a joke, and he kisses him again. ]

What's it mean to you?

[His hands are taken and it does stop Aziraphale from the usual fretting spiral. The kiss is quite effective too, sweet and gentle as it is. His hands shift so he can wrap his fingers around Crowley's in turn.

There's a little start of a smile at the teasing.]

I'm sure it can'.

[Teasing right back because is that a challenge, Crowley? Would you like him to find a worse term than lover? HMM? He falls quiet for a moment at the question though.]

It... well, it has a sort of intention to it, doesn't it? Of being together, belonging to each other, choosing to stand side by side in the eyes of the world.

[He likes that, the choice, the commitment of it.] Maybe that's overly sentimental.

[ Oh boy, Aziraphale is only going to get worse about this now, isn't he?

...Oh well. There are worse things that could happen. All in all, Crowley thinks he comes out the winner. ]

I just brought you a dozen red roses, angel. For no reason. Being too sentimental isn't really on our radar right now.

[So much worse. He'll try out so many terrible options. It's only a matter of time, really.

For now though, he leans in to steal another kiss before glancing off at the roses in their vase.]

Yes, you did, didn't you? You ought to be careful. I might start to think you have a crush on me.

[ Crowley hums, sliding an arm around Aziraphale's middle to keep him close. ]

It's only been six thousand years and an averted apocalypse. Angel... I think I have a crush on you.

Goodness.

[Aziraphale feigns shock for a few seconds before his expression melts into a smile and he steps in all the closer, hand settling against Crowley's chest.]

I don't know what to say.

[His fingers curl into the fabric of the demon's shirt.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject