"This might sound absurd... but I think we should get married."

"What?" Crowley whispers, unsure of what he just heard or rather unable to believe it.

"Have ten minutes passed already?" the other man asks, lifting the towel.

"I'm saying because... come on... I consider it could be a good insurance policy."

"I-I-Insurance?"

"It's perfectly wrong to kill your spouse... isn't it?"

"Oh... are you getting married? I had no idea!" the little man continues, smiling.

"Um..."

"B-But..." Mr. Todd hesitates.

"Oh, of course! Your wife!" the man exclaims.

Aziraphale moistens his lips, now a bit nervous about all this. Mr. Todd squints because this guy is loading him up with a lot.

"I don't know why you think... if anything were to matter to them in that line... it would be just that."

"Because it's an important thing," Aziraphale glances at him sideways.

"It is, but I think that would only make the scandal worse."

"It doesn't seem to me, they don't have to know. And once it's done, it can't be undone."

"If they don't know, what's the point of it as insurance?"

"Because it's... an institution. It creates unity and is indissoluble... let's ignore the part about fertility. And it's before the eyes of God."

"It's a SACRAMENT, Aziraphale. And it's between a man and a woman."

"That's what the rules say, but God's plan..." he scoffs a bit, squeezing his eyes shut.

"That's what they're going to tell you if you try to take refuge in them. Besides... Let's see, I'm not very familiar with the rite, but I think it's done in one of those... buildings of yours where it hurts me to be... surrounded by those... things... those," he crosses his fingers to explain himself. "Action figures dressed as Jews and fifteen-meter oil paintings of comics. And even if it's not like that. I insist that first you have to go through the rest of the sacraments. The tub of disintegration, the bread of eternal acidity..."

"You were once an angel, Crowley."

"And then I lost the privileges."

Aziraphale presses his lips because this still doesn't seem like a bad idea to him, and he didn't entirely expect Crowley to react to it like this.

"It's okay."

The other man glances at them, really. Mr. Todd squints because if he already wanted to spend the night with him before...

"No, it's not okay."

"It was just an idea, Crowley."

"I-I-I know, but still..."

"Maybe your idea was better. Let things cool down, then try to kill each other."

The look.

"I am too soft," he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut. "And... you're complicating Mr. Todd's life."

"It's not me who's there proposing... Things. And anyway, that's what a diabolic possession is about."

"Okay, okay..." he closes his eyes again. The man keeps looking at them, not daring to say anything, really. "So?"

"I don't know..."

"Perhaps we should think of options to kill each other..." Ahem, or you could tell me to go to your place or something like that. He squints at that idea.

"I think... I'm going to see that... guy, what's-his-name, the one with the witches."

"You're... you're going to see him? Okay."

"He's my... contact. He might have some data or useful information on how to kill an angel who isn't affected by hellfire... although if I find that angel there, I might still have to... attack him, even if it's not with hellfire but something practically identical to expert eyes but... not lethal. Something like the one from your flaming sword... or maybe I should try attacking him with holy water, maybe he's no longer immune to it."

"The holy water idea isn't bad, certainly. I had already thought of burning you with fire... I could go there... what day? I can't on Wednesdays because I play Bridge."

"Really? 'You can't on Wednesdays because you play Bridge?'" he repeats mockingly.

"Well, sorry... I'm not going to give up Bridge for that. Didn't you want me to play cards?"

"Anyway, I have something on Wednesday too."

"What?"

"Something. Doesn't matter. Thursday then?"

"What thing? Are we going to meet earlier?"

"Movie. I don't know."

Eye roll.

"Come on, it's not like I want to see you," the angel adds a bit late.

"Well, you have Bridge..."

"Okaaaay, I'll cancel it," another eye roll.

"No, no... I'll be at the movies."

"At which cinema?" he asks with thaaaat tone of irritation.

He laughs because of the tone and he's tempted to tell him one that isn't nearby. But he's not that stupid.

"Come on, not like I care... actually, I'd NEVER want to go see the movies you'd pick," he sees him thrilled with John Wick, surely those horrendous action movies with thousands of deaths and just a lot of noise.

He blinks because this is the demon who insists YOU HAVE TO WATCH "Sounds of Music" and who sings "La La Land" and likes "The Golden Girls"...

"Uh... yeah, sure. In fact, the horror cinema..." he searches for his phone to check the schedule and remembers that this isn't his body, making a fuss.

"HORROR? Really?" the horror in his voice.

"Yeah, with prophecies and the end of the world."

"Well, then you're going alone. I hope it's in those cinemas around here."

"Fine. I was going to suggest going to eat, but you already have a weird enough relationship with your barber-slash-fiancé."

Aziraphale chuckles as he speaks, though when he says barber-slash-fiancé, he blushes a bit and looks down, stopping his laughter.

"The barber will have to find a new place."

"And come on, don't get all intense on me," he protests when he notices Aziraphale stops laughing.

"I'm not intense! I'm... telling the barber that..." he looks at him and all he wants is to spend ALL his time with him, the last thing he wants is to go home. "I'm hungry."

"I know, but we're not going to risk this, besides, my strength is running out..."

"Fine, fine. Go. And we'll see each other unfortunately... on the day we kill each other," he moistens his lips.

"Exactly. Happy last day of your life."

"Likewise..." He smiles sideways and laughs a little, removing the towel completely.

Mr. Todd collapses on the floor when the guest leaves his body. Aziraphale quickly gets up.

"Heavens... heavens. Help me!" he's so scandalized, hoping the mustachioed man... who is still in utter disbelief.

He rushes to wake up Mr. Todd with a little miracle, placing his hand on his chest. Mr. Todd takes a deep breath as if he hadn't done it in forty minutes, because in fact, Crowley wasn't.

Aziraphale helps him a bit, and sits him down.

And Crowley returns to his body in his bed. Give him five minutes of shock because Aziraphale. AZIRAPHALE. Mr. "You're-going-too-fast-for-me-Crowley." Mr. "The-ones-on-my-side-won't-like-me-staying-at-your-place", Mr. "Fraternizing-with-the-enemy." Mr. "We're-friends-but-not-friends"... just asked him to marry him. Even if it's just for a bloody insurance.

He retrieves his ring. He puts it back on with a silly smile. Double fertiliser for everyone today! The house is on me! Honestly, the plants are almost more scared of this attitude.

Aziraphale... still can't believe he asked him that. The thing is that on Wednesday... he's going, not to the cinema but... to... that place that sells watches. The jeweller's next to the cinema around five o'clock, is that a good time? Six?

Honestly, I think Crowley has been at the cinema since ten in the morning, maybe later because he likes to sleep, he doesn't believe in mornings.

Since he doesn't even know where he's going to see him...

You enter the cinema, he found you in the bloody Bastille, he'll find you here.

But, um... he decides that maybe it's a good idea to go to the... cinema's toilets to wash his hands because the others are very dirty and...

The toilets, seriously.

Well, what else is he going to do? Buy popcorn?

Enter a BLOODY CINEMA HALL where it's DARK and they're showing a BLOODY MOVIE that might even be bad and there'll be ALMOST NOBODY.

After a few seconds wandering around... because he didn't enter the bathroom, that was the initial pretext. You're so hysterical and you move so fast for him!

UGH.

He decides that okay... Okay. If he's coming, right? I mean... What if he doesn't come for any reason? What if he goes to another cinema?

What's the worst that could happen? That you watch a stupid movie for once in your life? He's not going to suck your brain out as an intellectual.

He considers the possibility... of leaving, but he wants SO MUCH to see him, that one day he considered that maybe the clock was going backwards.

He has the good idea of going to the ticket booth and... telling the girl there a whole story about him having post-traumatic stress and wanting a room with few people. He's not seeing any movie yet, darling.

For all the hells, angel! Don't tell your life story to everyone, no one cares.

Finally, the girl tells him about a romantic movie... That just started but they're going to remove it because indeed, there aren't many people.

He's already seen it.

Crowley? Heavens.

Yes, he's surely seen them all, he comes here often.

Well, Aziraphale hasn't. He hesitates not knowing if he should buy two tickets or one but okay, he ends up buying just one and going to the empty room alone.

Crowley has VIP pass and that even though this cinema doesn't have a VIP category.

Okay, well... he looks for a place in the room that is already dark, but they're just showing trailers and ads.

We all imagine them making out in the cinema like two teenagers, except him, who just wants to feel him close. To hear him call him angel. To have him there, next to him, whispering things in his ear. Maybe hugging him like the other day in the Bentley, spreading too much in his seat, sprawling on it.

He smiles a little just thinking about it, choosing a place in the middle of the cinema hall that, indeed, is empty. I mean come on, there's no one else.

Well, then... enjoy the movie.

Is he really not coming? Or was he already in there?

Who's the hysterical one now?

Come on, if he's obviously there he'll come towards him. Stop bothering him, he's hysterical. HE. In his... way. Is Crowley there or not?

No, he's not there.

Then he definitely sits there in the middle, straight, hands together.

But he'll come, his viperine sense isn't that immediate. It's more like "I sense an idiot nearby... wait! That's my idiot!"

Aziraphale closes his eyes and takes a deep breath trying to calm down a bit and feel if there's anyone around who... ruins the atmosphere, but the truth is, the atmosphere in the hall is peaceful and quite happy. He should've bought ice cream.

Popcorn.

And Popcorn for Crowley.

They would have made a bloody good dramatic effect because that's what Crowley wants them for, not to eat them.

The popcorn? Does he want them to make dramatic effects... in the silences?

No. But imagine... the GREAT serpent crawling on the floor of the hall, turning back into human form sitting next to him with an arm on Aziraphale's chair back and one ankle over the opposite knee, smiling behind sunglasses. And what does Aziraphale do with the popcorn?

He throws them in the air.

Exactly, in a beautiful wave and a bloody good dramatic effect.

Well, if you do that, what you're going to get is just a good sharp scream.

Oh, come on!

Without a fountain of popcorn? Is that what's happening or not?!

Well, unfortunately, no popcorn fountain.

"Ahh!" he doesn't even bother making the description of the scream "a highly masculine scream".

"Shhh, angel. This is like a library, we have to be quiet."

"Crowley!" he whispers... in a shout. Whisper-shouting. Well... you get it. Turning to him.

"Shhh," he looks at him sideways, smiling.

He smiles. Genuinely smiles and leans a millimetre on him or maybe two. Or three.

There's no position on Earth or in the rest of the universe that invites him more to be on top of him.

He ends up doing it, there's no other option. Two hands on his chest besides, because... he's looking at him.

Crowley puts his arms around his back and pulls him close. He leans fully on him, putting his face on his chest.

"Good afternoon."

"For all the demons..." he squeezes him again, closing his eyes and honestly, wanting to kiss him again because... well, he never stopped wanting to, but also because of the recent news...

Too many things have happened. Yes. Aziraphale gives him a gentle caress on the chest. They hardly ever touched... and for some reason, being here, on top of him, seemed like the only possible place.

"How did you find me?" he whispers.

"I was in the area... it was a coincidence."

Aziraphale laughs a little, almost completely letting himself fall on him. A little more and he'll be almost sitting on him.

In fact, Crowley moves to get more comfortable because the armrests are digging into him. Making them disappear with a snap of his fingers.

You're not helping him stay away from you.

He doesn't intend to.

And everything about his gesture and his gaze clearly indicates... that he has missed him a lot.

"Crowley..." That's the most he manages to say to him, closing his eyes. Weren't you the eloquent intellectual, Aziraphale?

He's going to do it. Seriously. At this point, it doesn't matter if Aziraphale doesn't say the right phrase just before.

Oh... Don't tell us we're getting nervous.

"Are you okay?" he whispers... is that the right phrase?

There's no right phrase, Crowley leans in and when he's just a few millimetres away, a random demon appears on screen.

Aziraphale... well, sorry, he doesn't notice. Neither that he's about to kiss him nor the demon.

"Crowleeeey" echoes through all the cinema speakers with Dolby Surround Atmos HDMI JFK 4K 5G 4WD ABS Power Steering Pyrolysis BBC Intel Core Expecto Patronum Lizard Spock.

He's going to give them a heart attack if that's possible. Aziraphale thinks it's the devil live and in person.

As if activated by a button, Crowley rolls until they both fall to the ground and jumps to his feet with a casual smile, as if he hadn't just thrown ninety kilograms of angel to the ground to hide him behind the cinema seats.

"What's up, guys?" he greets with a nod, accompanied by a hip movement to correct his posture, trying to hide his nervousness.

Aziraphale curls up under the seat, not understanding at first what's happening. Are they here? Is it the screen? Does anyone ever sweep under the cinema seats? A popcorn with a good appearance greets him from there.

"What are you doing, Crowley?" asks the demon in the role of the protagonist in the movie, an independent, feminist, fun, intelligent, creative, sensitive, and moderately attractive-but-not-too-much girl who definitely doesn't need a men.

"Wasting time, apparently," Hastur adds in the role of the handsome guy, which certainly suits him perfectly. The change is hardly noticeable.

"Uh..." he swallows. "Researching?" he suggests.

"Here?"

"Uh... well, it's not that simple, I have to find more... creative ways to do it, since hellfire doesn't work. And there's not much written about how to kill an angel, seems to be something that... No one in their right mind would do."

"You were given a list with possible ideas..."

"Yeah... right. That document. A thrilling read, really, it got me hooked from the first word. My congratulations to the writer."

"Have you tried any yet?"

"Well... I'm... preparing some things. But most of the plans are," he inhales sharply through clenched teeth, "well... you know..."

"What?" asks Hastur, who surely has proposed more than one.

"Um... something with... fire?" he tries because he actually has no idea what proposals there are, he hasn't even gotten past the first sentence and diverse and creative ways of writing "Aziraphale". In fact, he's sure that one of them was the name of a medication for gastritis.

But the thing is, he knows them, he knows them very well. And he knows how dense they can be, and with his philosophy, it's usually "if it doesn't fit, don't force it. Bring a bigger hammer."

"Out of all the options, with fire!"

"I mean... with holy water. Maybe now he's one of ours and that affects him since the other doesn't," he changes his mind.

"It won't be hard to get now," the other demon replies.

"Uh... no, no. Of course. But... who has time to go to church, anyway?" he smiles a little at his own joke.

"So you haven't tried anything yet... Beelzebub won't like this," Hastur cuts in.

"The day Beelzebub likes something, we'll have a bloody party," he murmurs. "Look, I've always been a bit of a maverick and we always have this same discussion about the timing of things, but in the end, the higher-ups are satisfied with my work, so..."

"You better do it soon, Crowley," Hastur interrupts.

"Hell waits, Crowley..." the other demon adds.

"Well, it's not like I have an alternative," he mutters, frowning.

Aziraphale gently places a hand on his calf, and he startles because he had forgotten he was there below.

How could he forget that he's lying on the floor!

Well, he's having issues down there!

Then the other two fade away.

"I'm never going to be able to watch a whole movie in my life," Crowley protests, slumping onto the seats in an excessively melodramatic manner.

"I wasn't watching the movie... Are they gone already?"

He smiles, looking at the screen as the protagonist argues with the super attractive and sexy but insensitive guy, the typical masculine sports cliché, and the physically beautiful yet sweet and romantic character that only the aforementioned protagonist can bring out after a series of unfortunate and semi-absurd events with a comedic-dramatic twist.

"No."

"Why are you answering me?"

Crowley laughs and shrugs, extending his hand to help him up. Here comes the process of getting up with some difficulty and dusting off his clothes.

"Ugh!"

"At least they didn't see you..."

Aziraphale sits up, straight this time, and in his place. Truth be told... his legs are still trembling.

"Are you okay?" Crowley asks when he notices.

"I don't know..." he smiles nervously. "I think we won't be able to repeat this ever again," his angel has been scared.

"What? Hiding under a seat?"

"Seeing each other here," he replies, suddenly feeling like everything's going wrong.

The demon rolls eyes with the feeling that they've regressed like ten centuries with this stupidity.

Aziraphale blushes a little, trying not to look at him and still thinking that he's there next to him, and five minutes ago he was almost lying on top of him. Exactly how he wanted and exactly how he shouldn't.

"There will be other places. London is very big, and anyway, the world doesn't revolve around this city," the demon replies.

"They'll find us... always."

"I already told you, it's not about them not finding us, but about them stopping looking for us."

"You have to try it soon. And very seriously."

"Yeah... yeah, I know."

"I struggle with this part of the ineffable plan of God..." he whispers quite desolately.

Crowley glances at him. Aziraphale looks at the screen and... realizes he has no IDEA who's who.

"That's me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight. Loooosing my religion," he whispers, smiling slightly.

"I am certainly not losing my religion!" the tone of indignation, as always. Although truth be told, he would have liked to be a bit more honest about it.

"Oh, yes, you are. But... it's funny. I remember another moment... when the dead had to be others... that you found it easier to defend the ineffable plan."

"Ugh..." he glances at him.

"It's a very... angelic attitude."

"No, you're actually right," he makes him feel guilty now.

"Oh, come on! I'm just teasing you!"

"A good angel should trust in God's plan and..." Aziraphale squeezes his eyes shut."But God's plan can't be to kill you."

"If there's one thing I learned from the Armageddon, it's that the ineffable plan isn't necessarily the obvious plan."

Aziraphale smiles a little to the side because... he's right about that. Crowley clears his throat a bit because he never defends the stupid plan.

"Perhaps the plan is to show how... we're both necessary. And both must prevail."

"Or maybe there's no plan and things just happen because... well, people make decisions."

"No, no... There's a plan. But we can't understand it."

The demon huffs a bit and crosses his arms. The angel smiles a little more to the side.

"The good part... is that everything is part of the plan. Even this."

"So you can't really do anything wrong. Everything you do will be part of the plan, whatever it is," he glances at him.

"Apparently, that includes... sympathizing a little with the enemy."

"Sympathizing!"

"A little."

"A... little. Now we call it that way."

"Well, I don't know what you're thinking... But, well, it's undeniable that circumstances have led us to have some... sympathy."

"I can't believe you're telling me this like that!"

"This... how?" Aziraphale looks nervously, sideways, knowing what he means.

"No, no, it's okay... colleague of profession. Two days ago you wanted to marry me, but now this is a certain degree of sympathy, apparently not even a very high one."

Aziraphale opens his mouth and turns his face towards him, blushing with the mention of marriage.

"Well... I didn't want to either... You didn't want it, so..." the angel is infinitely offended, even raising his nose.

"I admit that as an assassination attempt, it's quite successful, but I'm not going to make it that easy."

Aziraphale looks at him again, this time a little more genuinely offended.

"I can't believe YOU are saying that."

"And what do you think would happen if not my death?" Crowley smiles.

"Well... Honestly, it was a perfect plan. I killed two birds with one stone... the safeguard, and... the murder at once," he assures now to tease him, although he pouts nonetheless with the response, coinciding with a certain half-tragic movie music, getting a nice melodramatic effect that suits the character of the Angel perfectly well.

"If you're going to present it to heaven as an attempt, at least be decent with me and make up that there was champagne and that we were in a slightly nicer place."

"Champagne... look at how I've refined your tastes."

"Not for me... it's your style."

"Well, now you won't say you don't like it. Okay, I'll keep that in mind: plans to kill and/or marry Crowley must include champagne."

"Add the Ritz to that list at least, not the ridiculous barber shop you go to."

"It would be much funnier to kill you in a barber shop! And it's not ridiculous! You just snap your fingers..."

"And why is that?"

"Don't you remember Sweeney Todd?"

"Um... is he a friend of yours?"

"Oh, yes. The diabolical barber from Fleet Street. I like to sympathize with the enemy..." Aziraphale laughs.

Crowley blinks a bit because he doesn't recall any other demon like that... established in London with a barber shop on Fleet Street. Maybe he should stop by later. To say hello.

"I like him more than you, actually..."

"The barber shop wasn't on Fleet street. I mean, that's where the courts are."

"Maybe it's the one I play Bridge with on Wednesdays."

"And why don't you go to his barber shop?"

"Can you focus on the important thing?" the angel protests halfway because he's not having the desired effect. "It's a musical."

"Is the important thing a musical?"

"It's a demonic barber who's my friend."

"And if you're such good friends, why do you go to a barber shop on Wardour? That's what I'm asking."

"Ugh."

"Anyway, if you know that mine have sent someone else..."

"It's a musical. Sweeney Todd, the demonic barber of Fleet Street."

"Wait, you're talking about... fiction!" Crowley blinks a couple of times in realization.

"Although apparently, I can fraternize with other demons without you having problems," Aziraphale smiles to the side. "Yes, in this case, I'm talking about fiction."

"You can try. Maybe you'll find one that isn't exasperating," the demon shrugs. "And anyway, for what fraternizing implies..."

"That's exactly what I'm saying. For what it implies..." Aziraphale looks at him sideways with the passive-aggressive comment.

Crowley looks at him sideways because... well, yes, that's exactly what he's complaining about. Aziraphale clears his throat.

"W-W-Well...! It's not my fault that..."

"Although..." Crowley starts at the same time and looks at him. "Eh?"

"Although what?"

"It's not your fault what?"

"T-T-The circumstances... although what?"

"What circumstances?"

"Of the... way of... sympathizing."

"It's not your fault?"

"Are you implying it is?"

"Well... partly."

Aziraphale looks at him sideways and smiles a little because... he perfectly knows that to a large extent, if they're not even closer, it's his fault. Well, there's definitely no need to admit it. He clears his throat.

Crowley looks at him because... whose bloody fault is it then? And suddenly... infernal revelation. He stands there with his mouth open like a fish. Aziraphale blinks.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I've seen that movie! It's the one... it's... it's the one with..." he gestures with his hands at his neck as if they're cutting it.

"Well, there's a movie! I should have started with that." Aziraphale laughs.

"But it's a bit... it's... Do you like those things?"

"Well, it has a certain dark humour... it's just a story," of course he likes it.

"Well, I'll be damned..." the smile, so impressed.

"It's a strange story, yes, but it reflects the nature of humanity," Aziraphale introduces the intellectual pretext.

"Right... sure," Crowley adjusts his glasses a bit to see him better.

Aziraphale gives a nervous little smile.

"Try the priest..." he sings mockingly.

"It's just a story!" he moves his hands trying to defend himself, gestures, apparently. Crowley laughs.

"The hiiiills are aliiiive..." Aziraphale also hums back, the song from "The Sound of Music."

"Have you seen it?" Crowley raises his eyebrows.

"You haven't taken me to see it," the angel shrugs. "But..."

"I haven't taken you because you don't like movies... and because they stopped showing it in the cinema like a million years ago."

"There's a musical."

"Why?" it's a question of REAL perplexity.

"Because everything is always better in the theatre?"

"No, that's not true," he sighs.

"Anyway, I haven't seen it either, but there was one of those visual ads at the bus stop," he explains, smiling sideways at Crowley's absolute desolation, who looks at him sideways without fully believing him. "But, you know something? Now that we're here... Wouldn't it be the perfect time for..." he searches for his hand.

"Uh-huh?" Crowley turns to him. Aziraphale pinches his middle finger with his thumb.

"Oh, come on... just take a snap, and I promise I'll watch it..." uh, especially if you hug me and all that...

"Mmmm..."

"How many times have we been sitting in the cinema anyway?"

"Almost never, because I'm now remembering why I never take you to the cinema."

"And that's... why?" he dares to ask. Aziraphale, you haven't even seen two consecutive seconds of a movie. Let alone how long you've been silent. "Don't scold me for talking!" he adds preemptively. "You can perfectly well watch and comment at the same time."

"Sure, sure..." Crowley laughs.

"Oh, come on, I want to see this whole living mountains thing..."

"Fine, fine... Puppy eyes."

"No puppy eyes!" he smiles and leans a bit more on him. "You could, maybe, conjure up some popcorn too. And a cup of tea." And he hasn't asked for sushi because he doesn't trust your sushi.

"Your wish is my command..." he protests while conjuring up all those things.

"Thank you, dear," so cynically, he settles a bit more comfortably in the seat. "And these seats could be a bit more comfortable..."

"Second reason not to take you to the cinema," he turns them into a single sofa.

Aziraphale smiles and Crowley thinks they should be doing this at their home. Just take a snap...

"Now you'll tell me you don't like being comfortable. In fact, I don't believe you sit in these seats as they are without any extra comfort..."

"Oh, don't I?"

"You, the man who solves everything with a snap!"

"The issue here is the incessant complaints."

Aziraphale purses his lips a bit scolded and Crowley laughs.

"You also complain during magic acts," the angel whispers. "And they're not just complaints. She's pretty... and... there are nuns."

"Shhh."

"Look how cute the little nuns are..."

Eeeeeyes rolling.

"A novice, Crowley... really?" he looks at him sideways, smiling more.

"Watch the movie!" the demon protests a bit.

"Adorable..." he whispers, smiling from ear to ear.

"You're very annoying."

"Shhh... Don't interrupt me and sing along instead," he leans a bit more on him.

"What, I'm interrupting you?!" so indignant. He moves a bit too, and Aziraphale is increasingly lying on him, and the two of them are less vertical in a terribly natural way and without noticing... Aziraphale tries to convince the audience.

"Well, the shouting you're doing at me. That's not singing... sing."

"I'm not going to sing!"

You want puppy eyes, there you go. Crowley squints his eyes.

"Hmm... fine," so falsely resigned. "With great power comes great responsibility. Don't use it for evil, angel!"

"Asking you to sing is not evil, my dear demon. Especially not when it's these sweet songs," he looks at him sideways, smiling a bit with that angelic face of his.

"No! Stop, I'm not going to sing! You're not letting me watch the movie!"

"Ohh... So, she's a novice quite different than expected..."

Crowley rolls his eyes and blushes a bit.

"And they're sending her to... Oh, Crowley!"

"What?" you're going to get your head torn off.

"Nothing, nothing..." a huge smile, he leans even closer if possible.

The demon moistens his lips and returns to the movie.

"Goodness..."

Crowley looks at him sideways.

"All those children... no wonder the father used a whistle."

Eeeeyes rolling. He doesn't respond. Aziraphale purses his lips again, a bit frustrated, just because he didn't respond. A tiny frustration.

Crowley keeps trying to watch the movie.

Aziraphale is also watching it... but it's loooong. I mean, reading would be faster. He continues to bother him with small and pleasant comments about the movie.

I mean, when she dances with the Captain, he's going to be IN LOVE because that dance is like the thing he dances. Really, when he starts to notice that she has those feelings for the captain. THOSE feelings for the captain, he looks at Crowley sideways feeling perfectly identified.

"Uh... the vocational service... It's true that it requires vocation. Sometimes it changes..." Aziraphale whispers quite more engrossed in the movie than it would seem. Crowley squints his eyes. "Ohh... oh! Just look at them!

Okay. Enough.

"And... watch... that dance! The tension between those two!"

Crowley grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hits the sofa, jumping. Completely flipping him over, lying on him now... very close.

Aziraphale's eyebrows could almost greet Gabriel sitting at his desk, and his HEART could keep pace with Julie Andrews. Although if he sang at that speed... he'd look ridiculous.

"Why... are you... still... talking...?" he hisses over him.

"W-Well..."

This would have more effect if he wasn't wearing glasses. What are you doing with the glasses INSIDE the cinema, Crowley!?

They're in public! And they suit him wonderfully.

Yes to all of that. Nevertheless, Aziraphale is ironed out, looking at his glasses because although usually his eyes can be seen through them in sunlight, especially at this distance... well... here in the dark. No.

"W-Well... i-it's from... th-the... movie," he whispers.

"Movies are watched in silence..." he hisses again.

He nods, lips pressed together, and he doesn't see it, but Crowley looks at his lips once the irritation has passed. Although he does moisten his own.

You're so close. He lowers his gaze a bit towards them, and truth be told, out of pure instinct, he stops pressing his mouth.