"Let's find out," yeah, sure, that's definitely what you're going to assess now, the intensity. He moves closer to kiss him again.
Close your blue eyes this time even before he kisses you, parting your lips slightly and feeling with that intensity he mentioned, how he feels you and how you feel yourself.
Okay, okay, enjoy it now that there's no one around to bother.
This is going to be an almost ETERNAL kiss.
Alright, alright... Crowley has permission now anyway, but let's see how you defend yourself, angel.
Defend myself?! From a kiss from Crowley?!
From heaven.
Ahh... He himself doesn't know what he's going to do. Die of terror when they show up again.
Good plan.
But it's just that Crowley's lips are so soft! And how he moves his tongue!
That tongue thing is quite remarkable. Although you might not know. I mean, I don't think he's got much to compare it with, or maybe he did hook up with Oscar Wilde as they say out there.
Aziraphale? Hmm...
Yeah. Truth be told, I don't think so. I think he could have become good friends with Oscar Wilde, if anything, and frustrated him to no end.
Crowley narrating.
Well, that was the 19th century, so...
Yeah... eye roll.
Just when Crowley decided to sleep... and when Aziraphale decided to join gentlemen's clubs.
Yet I can't really see Aziraphale actually getting it on with anyone no matter how asleep Crowley was. I see him super involved in the gentlemen's club, literally flirting with everyone, quite innocently, and probably frustrating more than a few. In fact, everyone eventually concludes that he must have a partner elsewhere. Ahem, sleeping somewhere.
Plus, apparently one of the dance moves in the Gavotte involves kissing everyone. I don't know where I read it.
Ohhh, God. Well, as happy as he is kissing everyone, this with Crowley is much, MUCH more than just a kiss for Aziraphale at least. He has various descriptions of what they're doing.
Ah, no, for Crowley it's a hardship that he has no choice but to endure and do, but being a demon is tough. You wouldn't last five minutes in hell, Angel.
Probably wouldn't last five minutes in heaven either.
Who? Crowley? Of course, they won't last long with him there with his stupid jokes, sarcasm, questions and profanity... just like in hell, you know.
No, Aziraphale. But what's with not lasting five minutes in hell?
Oh, well, because... what was the dessert ranking? Aziraphale is a small chocolate crêpe with cream and rainbow sprinkles.
What kind of description is that?
A truthful one.
And thank goodness he hasn't yet described what he feels they're doing now, or it would seem considerably more ridiculous.
It's like they're describing Crowley as a savoury, sour, and spicy Mexican candy, not the perfect fluffy and sweet little cake. Or the best-prepared Suzette crêpes in history.
Really? Suzette crêpes?
Don't you like them? They're flambeed and everything.
Sigh...
Honestly, Aziraphale thinks he's more like a tiramisu.
We're getting worse and worse.
That's the best analogy for Crowley. He looks much firmer and is completely fluffy and sweet, but has this more neutral taste of mascarpone. And it has everything, coffee, liqueur, biscuit, chocolate, cheese. And it comes in a glass JUST FOR HIM.
And that's why we don't let him talk about these things...
Aw. He started it! What dessert would you like to be?
A whiskey.
That's NOT a dessert and it wouldn't be a whiskey at all.
It is...
No.
Of course it is, it's drunk after the meal. It's dessert.
No, whiskey is ubiquitous, for starters, it's drunk at any time.
That says a couple of things about having crêpes at two in the morning. You're digging your own grave with those comments and that logic, angel.
Whiskey isn't sweet.
So?
To be a dessert, it needs to be sweet.
That's not true.
Yes, it is true.
Lemon sorbet is essentially acidic. And strawberries with cream.
No.
What do you mean, no?
They're sweet too!
You can't deny it just because it destroys your theory!
No, to be a dessert, it has to be sweet, and lemon sorbet isn't essentially acidic, just like strawberries with cream, unless you've eaten some strawberries with cream that aren't ripe yet or properly prepared lemon sorbet!
If you don't add sugar, they're acidic.
Well, that happens with all desserts. Anyway, even if whiskey were a dessert, Crowley still wouldn't be whiskey at all. Crowley is super sweet and complex.
Ugh, this is unfair.
Unfair how?
Well, because if it were up to him, he'd have already pushed you against something to make you stop! Oh, but wait... He could put his hand in your pants to see if you keep talking about desserts.
HALA.
Can we hear a wahoo?
Absolutely...
Thank you.
I mean, I'm sorry, he's not expected to put his hand anywhere.
And still...
Actually, he's going to make a good leap and a... high-pitched little scream that you could confuse with a Wahoo. Yeah.
Okay, okay... he takes his hand off.
The problem is... it's much more sensitive than he would have thought. So, with his heart racing, Aziraphale looks into his eyes with a mixture of different sensations.
Crowley looks at him too, heart racing.
Aziraphale opens his mouth... and closes it... and... he just doesn't know what to say, the demon smiles at him. He swallows and smiles back a little.
"Y-You... you... touched me?"
"Uh... did I?"
"Oh... I-I'm sorry." It's just... Aziraphale lowers his hand to touch himself... and raises his eyebrows a bit at how... Crowley moistens his lips a bit... yeah, right, because they're DRY. Admit it, you're licking them. And he leans back a bit.
Back to get him off? Get him off entirely entirely?
Yes. Well, sit next to him.
Aziraphale blinks a bit unexpectedly, licking his lips quite obviously, running a hand through his hair, and sighing.
"Are you... alright?"
The angel is still half lying on the couch. He takes a deep breath again... and he's actually feeling quite a bit more excited than he consciously realized (uhm, ignoring the moment when Crowley possessed him... uh, demonically. As bad as that may sound).
Crowley runs his hands through his hair, adjusting his ponytail again and looking at him, one leg on the couch and the other on the floor, because he thought, with that scream, that he needed to pause for a moment. He smiles a bit anyway, unable to help it, waiting for him to answer.
Aziraphale keeps sighing, honestly and after a few more seconds, lowers his hand back to his... intimate parts, because everything in the area is hot and hypersensitive.
"I-I'm... y-yes... S-Sorry."
"More champagne?" the demon proposes, going to serve a little more and decides it's better to sit back down and let the glasses come in view of his own general state.
"Y-Yes. Y-Yes..." he nods and sits back a bit, feeling better. Come on, he somewhat understands why humanity attaches so much importance to this sex thing.
So he snaps his fingers to bring the glasses and the bottle, handing Aziraphale his.
Come on, it's true... the angel knew. It's an area he'd never been interested in exploring, but he understood... just as he understood well how being a father must be a special and unique feeling, or surely being a fish, like dolphins, had its great charm. But... experiencing it firsthand was quite... um... educational. He takes the glass and drinks it all in one go.
The cold liquid actually suits Crowley very well in contrast. Yes, yes... in fact, between the liquid and the little alcohol. Aziraphale breathes a little and runs his hand through his hair again, smiling a little without noticing.
"So...?" I think for the first time in history, Crowley doesn't know what to say to him.
"S-So..." he feels a little better, shifting because the pants are uncomfortable. Crowley looks at the movie and notices it ended a thousand years ago and again... they didn't watch it. He laughs a little. Apparently he's a bit more used to this. Not much, but at least he's not freaking out.
"W-What?" and it's not the first time they've kissed for a long time. But this time they've been longer and... it's made him realize he's like this — "Are you laughing at me?"
"Even though I should, you look like..." he denies because the situation is what it is comical.
"What look?" I mean, he does have a look of... pleased but not entirely, but about to explode, but... this is wonderful and I adore you above all things in the universe.
"I don't know," the demon smiles, looking at him, "like if... they just opened another bakery on Marshall Street."
"P-Probably... not so much," now, right. He laughs at that without being able to help it, closing his eyes.
"A bakery with a library specialized in crêpes," Crowley adds.
"With a demon feeding me cake," I don't know what the angel was trying to say with that but it sounded a bit better in his head. Crowley blinks at that and looks at him smiling because he was mocking him.
"And where they organize board game tournaments... without betting. And days of dancing that no one remembers."
"Hmm... honestly... I think not even with all that..."
He laughs and Aziraphale laughs a little, though he gets slightly nervous, glancing at him.
"S-So... uhm..." the angel looks him up and down.
"I don't know how I should take that."
"Well... why would you take it badly?"
"I don't know, but... logic and common sense make you think... you were going to protest bitterly."
"Yeah, of course I was going to protest, because... you don't seem..."
"Uh?" what's happening is that Crowley's super nervous and doesn't know what to do with you.
"You seem so calm about all this..." Aziraphale asserts.
"Well... yeah, you know," vague gesture.
The angel closes his eyes... It's incredible that you're going to believe that. No, actually, he doesn't believe Crowley's not excited what he believes is that he's extremely calm about all this.
Still, how calm is he going to be! If he's on the verge of a panic attack. But as he's on the verge of a panic attack every five minutes, he's learned to cope with it quite elegantly. Thank you, chronic anxiety.
"A-And I wasn't in Sodom and Gomorrah actively participating... a-and it's been a while since..."
"Uh-huh?"
"I learned to use everything else," Aziraphale glances at him again, starting to move on the couch again.
"Oh... okay."
"Ar-Are you... okay... you?" he suddenly asks.
"W-What? Pfff... yeah, of course. Perfectly. Why would I be not okay?" Crowley responds as if it were obvious.
Aziraphale blinks... and he gets closer to him this time.
"Th-There's nothing here that... could b-bother me. I mean... this is... perfectly natural and... I... I-I'm..." he continues hesitating and the angel raises a hand and gently strokes his face. "I-I mean... e-everything is... I'm perfectly... in control and..."
"Is this... too much, dear?" Aziraphale asks.
Crowley shakes his head, squinting his eyes.
"Too... fast?" he smiles wryly.
"Shut up," the DEATH STARE.
Aziraphale chuckles a little unable to help it.
"I'm surprised you're not complaining about that."
"I guess...," the angel moistens his lips and swallows. "It's like a good book," he explains after debating with himself because the only other analogy... he was going to tell him that he supposed this was like... falling down a hole. Once it happens, you can't stop, you just keep falling but he didn't think it was the most appropriate. So after debating a bit, he decided to go with the other one.
"Suddenly! But then we're toast."
"I can't believe you're complaining about this..." he protests a bit and actually physically moves away a little. Maybe he was being too... intense. He had asked him a while ago if it was equally intense for him and Crowley hadn't responded.
"Well, the comparison, my love," the demon blurts out without realizing and then covers his mouth because he's still convinced that calling him Angel is like... well, a nickname, like he's not even going to bother remembering his name but this... this just came out of his soul and not... not...
Okay. Checkmate. Thanks for playing. Aziraphale blushes... and smiles. And it's just that, even though they've been like this for half a lifetime, Crowley has never called him a single term of endearment. Apart from angel, which has always seemed very beautiful to him, no one else calls him that, but... he smiles. And he looks at him, with eyes that...
"Uh... I-I mean... I-I mean that... I-I don't like reading, and books... I mean, since I don't like them, I can't really make the comparison because I don't enjoy them, so I can't imagine it. But I suppose it could be compared to a good movie. The other day I saw one with a duck, it was really good," he says, and when a duck is in the equation, it's like we're in full panic mode. Yes, again.
"Are you going to call me that forever?" he didn't hear a SINGLE thing you said afterwards, except that you didn't call him my love again.
"I think it was computer-generated, because there's no way they could teach a duck to do those things."
"Say it."
"And there was a pig too."
"Pleaaaaase..." there you have the puppy eyes.
"I-I think it was old, but I hadn't seen it."
Aziraphale smiles a little more, getting closer to him again. Come on, leaning a little over him.
"Isn't it strange? Considering how much I love movies and the number of films I've seen and there's always one that slips through, I wonder what others I haven't seen without even knowing it," he continues but he surrounds him with his hands, leaning back. Aziraphale adjusts himself a little better on top of him.
"That was... not that I didn't know, dear," he whispers.
"Maybe another one with a duck."
The angel gives him a peck on the cheek.
"I love you too..." he whispers almost as softly as the sound of the air moving through the world.
Crowley dot exe has stopped working.
I told him not to, but... BUT... he didn't listen.
He may turn into a snake and he doesn't like it because he's afraid he won't be able to turn back again. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows unexpectedly.
Hiss hiss madafacka.
"This... was not... what you were supposed to do," the angel half-protests because he's also semi-fallen on the couch... and on him as a snake, of course.
Crowley wraps himself around him a bit. He looks at him sideways obviously letting him do it.
"This gives everyone a great deal of security, dear."
Okay, they inform me that not a bit, he wraps himself around... WRAPS, as if he's going to kill and eat him.
Aziraphale raises his eyebrows at this. Heavens. You almost don't scare me, huge snake. Still, the truth is, fear as such... not.
"This terribly helps with the conversation, my dear. Especially when we're as humans. But... I can do a monologue."
Then the snake sticks its head into his jacket, or vest, or shirt, or heavens, he's wearing a million layers, surely one will be good for that. Can you let him die of embarrassment in peace for five minutes? Thank you.
Aziraphale smiles a little, closes his eyes and blushes a little, really. The problem is... he doesn't shut up.
Okay... okay. Crowley. Calm down. Relax. Nothing has happened, nothing is happening to you, he just told you he loves you and we already knew that anyway.
"In fact, I was thinking that... this... is much more than... this thing we're doing."
He pulls his head out and looks at him, doing that with his tongue. Aziraphale squints his eyes.
"Yes, I'm talking about that precisely. But I don't mean that... I mean something more... beautiful. Not that this isn't beautiful."
Crowley turns human again, lying on top of him and with his legs wrapped around his.
"Ohh! Uh... hello."
He moistens his lips and blushes a little.
"I... I had a problem. But not anymore," well, for now the body seems human, let's see how long it takes for the brain...
"What problem, my dear?"
"With... a... word. But I'm fine."
"You hadn't had trouble with that word before..."
"It was in a different context."
"Many things have happened," Aziraphale chuckles a bit. "But I've never had a word turn you into a snake before. Can I take that as an attempted... murder?"
"The truth is, I'd pay to read your report explaining it."
"Ugh, shut up. Um... Are you okay?"
"Yes," Crowley smiles. "I was just imagining you writing it..."
"What do you imagine I'd write? Probably something excessively ridiculous."
"I don't know what you'd write, but I know what you wouldn't. 'My dearest reader: This is Principality Aziraphale and in this ignominious account I am going to... narrate? No, wait, wait, I've got another one... recount'," he smiles. "Recount the fateful and grievous misadventures pursuing and hunting down the infamous demon Crowley..."
"Misadventures, very good," he smiles wryly.
"'Of which I emerged triumphantly victorious with my macaronic farce against his fatal idiosyncrasy.'"
"'Macaronic farce!'" he laughs. "I don't speak like that!"
"Of course you do, I don't even know what that means."
"And how do you remember it then?"
"How would I know? I'm making it up!"
"When you heard me say 'macaronic farce.' It makes absolutely no sense what you're saying."
"'Well, there you have it!'" he counters. "Just like what you say!"
"No! When I say it, it makes sense."
"Absolutely not, you're always saying rebarbative and stratospheric words."
"'Rebarbative' doesn't exist. It's 'bombastic.'"
"Maybe you're not so bright if you don't know the word 'rebarbative.' It's from Old English. Comes from the Saxon root."
"'Maybe you made up the word. From the Saxon root of the inventor.'"
"All words are made up, that's what they're for," Crowley smiles.
"You're late to the word-inventing party. I actually helped create some," Aziraphale pokes him playfully.
"No, not late, extremely late. But okay, look, it's compensated by all that love you have for technology."
"Look, exactly."
"If it fits... because then it's like with the Gavotte."
"'Don't even start! Look at the bloody popularity of this... and precisely because of technology, there are NEW words EVERY DAY. You're the only one who knows the Gavotte, and the guy who invented it, who I still can't believe didn't do it expressly hoping to get you into bed... Because it was obvious that with him dead, that was the end of the party.'"
"He wanted to get me into bed?"
Eye roll from the demon because that was NOT the important point of the conversation AT ALL.
"It was very funny..."
"Whatever."
"You could invent a dance for me to kiss you..." Aziraphale says, being cynical.
"Do you think it's not hard enough already?"
"Maybe it would cost less with a little dance..." he looks into his eyes and smiles. Eye roll. "So angry... still, it was very fun to dance the Gavotte... That you were asleep and didn't even try to learn with me is another matter."
"Thank goodness for the ineffable plan that included me missing that."
"I could almost go back to scold myself. 'No. NO! NO you can't do that... it's... it's terrible! It's... humiliating!'" the angel imitates his voice.
"I wish I'd missed other humiliating things you do."
He opens his mouth indignantly.
"That's very rude of you! What humiliating things do you think I do? Actually, if everything I do seems humiliating to you... even saying nice things is humiliating. Just when I was about to start talking to you about our souls merging into one, you've turned back into a human instead of a snake."
Crowley blinks three times because he was talking about sleight of hand.
"What?" the demon blushes a bit.
"Our souls... It sounded a bit better when I was going to say it," he smiles, somewhat nervously.
"How...?" Crowley moistens his lips, pausing. "I mean... it's completely... cheesy. It's like you're doing it on purpose."
Aziraphale smiles more genuinely at that, because he did do it a bit on purpose... he expressly told him part of it to tease him a bit. However, with this physical closeness and with the recent series of catastrophic events, he had realized that he was so... close to Crowley, and the affection he felt was so... intense, so real, so extreme. That beyond these human bodies that he liked so much, there were moments when he didn't know where he ended and where the demon began.
"Don't smile like you know I like you saying them or something, I don't like it at all!" Crowley protests, crossing his arms and blushing a bit.
"If I didn't say them, you'd miss them. Do you think it would be better for you with another angel on Earth besides me?"
"Of course it would," eye roll.
"An angel who GENUINELY stopped your mischief, who was not at all understanding or flexible... and who detested you and found you disgusting."
"I would be arguing with him for real and not begging him all the time for what we both know is a better deal."
"Sure, because arguing is much better..."
"I would probably have killed a couple out of frustration by now."
"And needless to say, you don't beg me for the deal. You come to present me completely absurd and extreme ideas, and I only agree to the logical and sensible part."
"Which usually is everything, but only after the fifth time," eye roll.
"Maybe you don't present them well the first four times."
"Or maybe you like being begged over and over and over again. You angels are so exasperating," the demon says as if demons were much better. They who are a marvel of ingenuity and efficiency...
"All, now you've put me in the same box as the rest..."
"Well, you are, in a different and a thousand times worse way in your case... but you are."
"Worse."
"Indeed, worse."
"Worse than the other angels?"
"In your case, yes."
"In what way?"
"Well, I don't think someone like Gabriel would even consider something like the pact. Because of being an idiot and all that, which is frustrating to say the least, but you think... well, the idiot can't handle more, it's not his fault, but you do consider it, and not only that, you know it's the best and still it has to be pursued."
"You don't like it?"
"Pursuing you?"
"Convincing me."
"Yes, but it would be better if you played hard to get less..." Crowley lies a little sideways. Aziraphale frowns a bit.
"I don't play hard to get, your plans are extreme. It would be better if they weren't so that I wouldn't have to see you so much," the angel dramatically moves away.
"Oh, come on! No matter what I say, it's always no by definition!"
"There must be a reason for that!" now he's ten centimeters further away from you than he was a minute ago.
"Because you like playing hard to get... I suppose it must have some moral sense."
"It's not just because I like playing at nothing. It's because... I like being convinced of the things I do."
Aaaaand he's another ten centimeters away on the couch.
"Sure, sure..."
"Don't 'sure, sure' me like that, as if everything were always so simple and obvious."
"What I'm saying is that then you must be stupid to have to repeat the arguments five times..."
"Well, it's not so simple!" he squeezes his eyes shut.
"Why not?"
"Because it's never simple. Not saying yes to you, not saying no."
"Why not?" eye roll.
"Because everything always involves a string of... problems and guilt. It's much easier when... you come and ask me, and... you've already thought about it and you explain to me once again why it benefits us. And so it's not just about pleasing me, it's about you... and you're here, and you smile when you get the flawless argument and you look at me with that satisfaction of knowing that I'm convinced. And suddenly that... carries much more weight than the other and even seems like the most obvious answer."
Crowley blinks as he doesn't quite understand that.
"W-What?" he blushes a bit.
"The weight is... that I'm happy to... have convinced you?" the angel sumarizes. "Well, and... doing it in a way that benefits us... both," he coughs.
"I always propose it in a way that benefits us both!"
"Okay... yeah. I'm not saying you don't. Still, doing it already has some... benefit. Right?"
Crowley sighs.
"Don't sigh at me!"
"Why not now?"
"Because you do it without telling me what you're thinking."
"I still think you just like playing hard to get."
"And I think you like... chasing me."
Crowley blushes a bit and leans his head back dramatically.
"If you didn't like it, you would have stopped hundreds of years ago. I admit the 19th century worried me, and... I've made some changes since then."
Crowley sighs again but this time smiles.
"Did you... um... notice?"
"No."
"Ohh... Um... well," Aziraphale coughs a bit and moistens his lips.
"What did you change?"
"Well... being a bit more open is... a change."
"Oh... openness..."
"Come on, Crowley! Where are you going with this? Like I'm the c-closed-est of the closed. Doesn't seem so given the circumstances!" Aziraphale protests a bit. The demon laughs at the protests. "Now we're going reeeeeally fast and I'm... adjusting to it and... don't laugh!" he throws a pillow at him if the minimalist lord has one lying around. Yes, he does, and he laughs. "But what's so funny?!" he continues squeaking hysterically.
He can't even respond. The laughter hits the angel, no doubt, but he's still indignant even though he's laughing!
You can tell, you can tell he's indignant.
Oh yeeees!