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!

"Still... I-I wanted to know..."

"What?" the demon still smiles. Aziraphale smiles a bit too but then clears his throat. Crowley hugs the pillow he threw at him, looking at him.

"I-I mean... you... touched me."

He squints his eyes... then relaxes them, taking a deep breath and trying to smile.

"When?"

"When you touched me, Crowley. You know perfectly well when!" he protests, blushing because this conversation isn't so easy.

"What I mean is, I've done it several times so I was expecting a bit more specificity."

"Sp-specificity?" he looks at him, moistening his lips and trying NOT to think about Crowley doing this several times with... people. It was... SO intense with him, all of this, that it was impossible not to... feel something about it.

"Yes, when you mean."

"Ohhh!" the angel LOST. "W-When you touched me in... my private bits."

"P-Private bits. Really."

"Little... human, private... sexual, parts."

"Ok. Please, go on. Because if you get stuck here, it's only going to get worse."

"How else do you want me to call them?" he frowns.

The demon looks at him... intensely with a look that says "you don't want me to answer that" Although now he's curious.

"You're thinking something dirty... only I would ask you that," he squints his eyes.

"Please, let's get through this part of the conversation with whatever dignity we have left."

"Fine, fine. You're embarrassing me as usual..." he grumbles, rolling his eyes. "So, what about it?"

"I still insist you haven't told me which moment you're asking about."

"Y-You know... if we need to clarify that point, maybe... it's better not to explain."

The look the demon gives him, shaking his head to the side.

"W-What...?"

"You're not leaving it at that now."

"W-Well... you never touched me like that before, Crowley."

"Well... let's say we're... I mean... changing things up a bit here."

"No! Don't tell me! Because if you don't tell me... I won't notice!"

"So where's the bloody surprise?" Crowley protests.

Aziraphale blinks, not expecting that response because... he was playing with sarcasm. He moistens his lips.

Crowley is teeeeeeeense. Everyone is teeeeeeeeense.

"I... I'm sorry," the angel whispers, a bit scolded, looking at his hands.

Crowley closes his eyes and stands up, because he still can't stay in the same position for five minutes and this relaxes him. He walks over to the TV and messes around with who knows what.

Aziraphale rubs his legs a bit, putting his hands on his knees, not looking at him and honestly not knowing what to do. Maybe... he should sort out his emotions and feelings a bit instead of just throwing them at Crowley.

"Don't be angry, Crowley."

The named one moistens his lips, leans his head back, and sways a bit on his feet before turning around, hands on his hips, and smiling at him.

"You want..." The blue eyes look at him a bit forlornly.

"Yes." the demon answers straight.

"You don't even know what. Do you want to... do magic tricks?" he smiles a bit.

"You weren't going to say that," he squints his eyes and Aziraphale laughs.

"Say what?"

"Something interesting. Not that."

"Show me around your house," he laughs a bit more.

"Now you're pretending that... you know? Fine."

"No. No. I'm not pretending anything!" he whines, getting up and approaching him.

"You don't know it..." he glances at him.

"No... You've never shown me your room, for example. I thought you'd want to show me yourself," and truth be told, he wants to kiss you again and hug you and talk about anything. But... he has no idea how to go about it.

"How subtle."

"Subtle?!"

"It was sarcastic."

"Not subtle at all because..."

"Show me your house... for example... I don't know, your room..."

"Would you rather I show you the plants and talk nicely to them?" he rolls his eyes.

"Do I mess up your books?"

"Yes, and you hide things in them."

"That... But what a low blow! You didn't even know that until yesterday!"

"That doesn't mean you don't do it. You can leave me alone with your plants for a while and you'll never know what I did to them," he smiles a bit, getting closer.

"Anyway, what you do to them doesn't affect what I do."

"Then you won't mind if I give them a little cuddle."

"You, being you, will almost make me look even worse in comparison."

"Which apparently is convenient... You know? It still amuses me."

"What?"

"That you're... a kind of God."

"Oh, yes. And I have an ineffable plan for them."

"How can you have an ineffable plan for plants and not believe in an ineffable plan for us?"

"Precisely because I know well what MY ineffable plan for the plants is."

"That's exactly what God would think."

"Exactly. And if her plan is like mine... She wouldn't believe in her own plan either."

"You don't believe in your plan?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why do you do it?"

"That's what they believe in their... mistaken assumptions."

"Ohh... I see where you're going," he laughs a bit at his own comment.

"Do you see? There's really no way of knowing."

"You're trying to turn this into a reductio ad absurdum."

"No, I'm just trying to prove my point."

"The point you always prove... that the ineffable plan... is ineffable."

"And not only that, making assumptions about it is also a waste of time."

"The ineffable plan is for you and me to be discussing this here now."

"Or maybe not, but there's no way of knowing."

"It can't not be, if it's happening, it's part of God's plan."

"In fact, we don't know how detailed that plan is either."

"But if it weren't God's plan, it wouldn't happen."

"Maybe it would, as long as it doesn't oppose the overall plan... maybe not every minute is planned out, just some general guidelines and how to reach them is more or less improvised."

"But that... would give us too much freedom."

"But that's because otherwise she can't blame us."

"Maybe she won't blame us. We trust that she won't."

"In fact, it's even better if that's the case. There's no reason to feel guilty... or else it would be like the apple incident."

"You still feel guilty about that."

"No, I just still don't understand it."

"I still think it was necessary for the world to be what it is today. Without you, we wouldn't be here."

"Well then, it was just an overreaction for the drama. And I have to respect that" Crowley smiles.

"Eh?" Aziraphale's lost.

"The... punishment for disobeying her. Casting them out of the garden and all that. It was actually part of the plan, so... all that furious overreaction... was just for the drama. I support that."

"It... seems like it. But if it really was like that..."

"Mhm?"

"It's unfair that you've been blamed for all these years," Aziraphale looks at him and blushes a bit.

"For the apple?"

As if it had been a terrible thing. Besides..." he bites his lip and actually hurts himself, frowning. Because he still has the WOUND.

"Well, I don't feel particularly guilty. I still think that if she really, REALLY didn't want them to eat it, she shouldn't have put the tree there. Or put it outside the garden..."

"What she wanted was for them to resist eating it. Just... like maybe she wants me to resist... you."

Rolls his eyes.

"And yet she knew it wouldn't happen. Or else everything else wouldn't have happened, so in fact, she didn't want them to resist, she just wanted an excuse."

"Are you implying she doesn't want me to resist?"

"I'm thinking that if everything is part of the ineffable plan, you don't have any free will anyway. Whatever happens, is what had to happen... so what's the point of feeling guilty?"

"So you think I shouldn't resist."

"I think it doesn't matter what you do, so... why not do what makes you feel less miserable."

"So, I insist, you think I shouldn't resist."

"Well, if resisting makes you feel worse than not doing it..."

"You can't just say yes?" Aziraphale laughs.

"No," Crowley laughs too. "That's influencing you and I don't want you to then come back and blame me for tempting you to do evil."

"You're always to blame for tempting me to do evil," the angel looks him in the eyes. "Call me... like you did a while ago."

"What?" the demon swallows.

"Please."

"Angel..." he blushes.

"You always call me that."

"E-ehm... y-yes, well..."

"Although I won't deny that it's special within... the obvious. But I didn't mean that."

"No? N-No, of course not. Well... it's nothing special."

"Nah, not at all."

He sticks out his lower lip, making a sad face. Crowley blinks and takes a step back as if he had just pulled out a gun and pointed it at his head. Those are the eyes of an angel who wants something. Something specific and that he probably won't like, but he's completely damned to do so it's a miracle he's not begging for mercy.

"But you always say it so fondly."

"A-And..."

"Why do you say it's not? Isn't it said fondly?" he takes a step towards him.

"I-I-It's... f-fondly..."

"You say it so nicely..." he makes that lip gesture again. "I know you ONLY call me that. Angel."

"Well, I don't talk to... many other angels."

"Well," he sighs.

If Crowley were a nuclear reactor right now, there would be a bunch of people running around pulling their hair out while a million red lights spun on the ceiling and alarms blared from every direction. And if he were a proper nuclear reactor, there would be tubes with bubbles going back and forth with smoke that should normally be green, but now it's any other unsuspected color.

So Crowley's ineffable plan for his apartment plants right now includes not moving. Not gesturing. Not smiling. Not even breathing. Thankfully, he doesn't really need to, but don't make him stay like this, he might not need to breathe, but if he doesn't crack a stupid joke every three minutes, he might collapse. I wouldn't risk it.

Aziraphale turns around so dramatically, shoulders slumped, and goes back to the couch, dragging his feet. He sits there, back straight, looking at Crowley with THOSE dramatic eyes. Without saying anything.

"Uh... Um... ah," he moistens his lips and takes oooone step forward, reaching out his hands a bit.

The blond sighs again, fatalistically.

"A-Angel... Aziraphale..."

He looks into his eyes. Because now, NOW... it's not enough.

"Crowley..." the LOADED tone.

The named one swallows hard. There have been some explosions in the reactor and black smoke is coming out of somewhere it definitely SHOULD NOT.

The angel raises a hand and softly caresses his lips with a finger. Interpret that as you will.

The demon freezes again with that... and blushes a bit.

The puppy eyes are still there. He sighs again, so sad. He lowers his gaze. As handsome as he finds him when he's all blushy.

The demon squeezes his eyes shut and crosses the living room in two strides, sitting beside him and pulling out his phone.

The blue eyes glance at him sideways without moving and he opens his mouth incredulously.

"Are you hungry?" he decides to change the subject to one he knows will capture his attention.

"Yes. But..."

"Look," he shows him the phone. "I have an app to order food and have it delivered here. You can order from any restaurant in London."

"Here? They deliver it here? Ohhh."

"Yes, it takes about thirty minutes," he explains, showing him. And we want to emphasize that he doesn't even eat, so he has that app on his phone entirely and solely for Aziraphale. His phone, which also almost has no memory left because of all the crap he has on it. If that's not a declaration of love...

"Can we order anything?"

"Yes. They even go to specific shops if you want. I mean, not just restaurants, they could bring stuff from the bakery or any place. Even raw food to cook."

"Ohh... Really? But... do they come here?"

"Well, they go wherever we tell them to, they could go to the bookshop, but... does that make sense if we're not there? I've never tried to make them go to hell. They might go. These people take their job very seriously," he smiles to himself, pondering it. "I can already imagine the guys down there with a teenager boy going to hell itself to deliver a couple of Sushi California menus and a large Coke on a bike and for one pound and a half an hour."

"That would be for very little money! Does it bring food from the Ritz?"

"Maybe, I've never tried it before."

Aziraphale steps a bit closer to look, and since Crowley doesn't see it as an option, he snaps his fingers.

I can just imagine everyone at the Ritz. The Uber Eats guy arrives: "I'm here to pick up an order," and the doorman laughs for fifteen minutes... until they show him on the app... and he does a bit of investigating and finds out the order did indeed come through, they even prepared and packed it... and everyone is completely WTF?

Some threaten to quit: "How low the Ritz has fallen!" They could join the ones protesting to Netflix. They're on that side.

The guy delivers the order, which is EXTREMELY expensive... because it's the Ritz. They almost sent plates from their dining set since they didn't have anything else to pack the takeaway service in.

They can probably write this off on their taxes.

Plus, Aziraphale innocently asks if they're going to send it with the tablecloth and candle.

Nah, I don't think so, but maybe they can improvise something.

He smiles a bit, so enthusiastic. He's going to tell EVERYONE about the wonderful Ritz service on Uber Eats.

"Do you... have utensils?"

"I don't eat, angel."

"And yet you have that app on your phone."

"Well, maybe there's something in the kitchen..." he coughs because that's another matter.

"You have a kitchen..."

"I'm not going to store alcohol in the bathroom."

"Where is it that I've never seen it?" he jokes.

"You've been before, I've taken glasses from there!"

"Ohh... THAT was the kitchen."

Rolling eyes. The angel laughs a bit, looking into his eyes and Crowley smiles sideways.

"What?"

He shakes his head, still smiling because... he's just there, in his house, and they're going to have dinner together, and he's happy.

"Why don't you put on some music while I look for things?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Something soft... if that's possible, dear."

"I don't have elevator music in this house," he raises an eyebrow.

"Then why do you ask me, Crowley? Just... don't put anything that won't let me hear myself think."

"I should play heavy metal just for that."

"That would be quite contradictory for me."

"Why?" he smiles.

"Well, inviting me to the Ritz at your place is a clear sign of... hospitality."

"I'm not hospitable!"

"Is that what you're trying to say with the music?"

"No. That's... what it is."

"Yes, you are hospitable with me, Crowley. And sweet. And I understand the problem of saying it elsewhere, but what's the problem here?"

"It's not about whether others hear it or not, it's that I'm not!"

"Sure, sure... You're terribly bad. Being here is a horror."

"Thanks," he responds to that as if it weren't said sarcastically.

"At least you're well-mannered. You have manners," he teases.

"Do you want me to stop having them too?"

"No, please... it might be the only decency left in you," he smiles.

"Most likely, considering I invited you to dinner..."

"According to you, it's a horror, apparently. Complete neglect."

"It is."

"Well," he smiles a bit, "I'll just have to resign myself to the horrendous music you choose while also letting me fend for myself in your house instead of helping me."

"Poor lad."

Aziraphale hesitates for a moment and... He turns around, heading to the kitchen. Crowley swallows nervously and now looks at the stereo system, anxious. This would be easier if he didn't have access to... literally ALL the music in the world.

I love how he's so cool with Aziraphale and so hysterical on the inside. Aziraphale is exactly as he shows himself to be.

Well, he pretends he's not trying to be cool and all that, but... well, he does make a bit of an effort.

Just a bit. That makes it seem like Aziraphale doesn't make an effort at all. He's just... different.

Well, Aziraphale doesn't make an effort to be cool.

Nah. It's just that he'll come back humming tunes and you still haven't chosen any music yet...

Crowley jumps a bit, getting nervous because, indeed, he hasn't chosen anything yet.

"Everything okay?" he asks. "I found some cutlery!"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, of course... because something was going to be... wrong..."

"Well, because I'm listening to the sound of silence," he smiles because he remembered.

"Do you really want to hear that?"

"I mean... literally... the sound of silence, my dear."

"Well, because I haven't put anything on yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to point out..." he looks him in the face and takes his arm gently, squeezing it a little.

"I was... deciding what would annoy you the most to see if I could get you to leave," he scrolls through titles on the screen.

"Hmm..." he looks him in the face. "Well, that... isn't so difficult for you, I'm sure you'll manage it quickly."

He smiles sideways and puts on Highway to Hell.

"Ohhh... extremely soothing. Even more so with the sound you've got here. It's all very... soft. Delightful. Thank you, Crowley."

"I figured," he nods.

"It's hard for me to say anything bad about your hospitality after this."

Rolling eyes and Aziraphale laughs.

"That's why I fell in love with you, because you're incapable of complaining about anything or having a bad thought," he turns away to avoid the gaze when dropping the bomb.

Well! Okay, it takes him a bit to recover from the bomb but... he can't help but smile a little.

Okay, damn it, he does want to see his reaction, even though he's embarrassed for him to see it. You can peek at him out of the corner of your eye, because he's as red as an apple and smiling. He does, actually, obviously.

The reality is that for the moment, if Aziraphale could do EXACTLY what he wants, without any kind of restriction, he would spend the next two or three weeks hugging you 24 hours a day. Because as he has already described, this whole set of things has been quite... intense. But obviously THAT is something that won't happen, because despite acting quite in accordance with what he feels, even if it doesn't seem like it, Aziraphale is an angel who tends to restrain himself with some things... a little.

While enjoying the pleasant sensation of the word "fell in love" in his ears, he closes his eyes, and almost feels him in his arms... it's his wings, which WITHOUT HIS PERMISSION... actually without him realizing it, wrap around them both in a cocoon, pulling Crowley towards him.

Crowley hesitates, not expecting that, getting a bit startled.

And there they are, Aziraphale having a moment of absolute (and completely secret, according to him) guilty pleasure, stoic and immobile. Analyzing in his head the nuances between loving someone and being in love.

Actually, I don't think so, because Crowley sort of falls onto him with that wing movement interrupting his brief analysis of loving versus being in love and making him open his eyes.

The good part is that he hugs him, as best as he can to keep from falling. Aziraphale holds him by the waist when he feels him falling, thinking it must be the fault of those hip and knee joints of rubber he has.

Yeah, right, now it's that!

Of course, I mean, he didn't unfurl his wings for nothing!

Is he blind or something? They're there, the evidence.

"Whoa!"

"Uh...," Crowley tries to regain his balance. "Are you okay?"

"Uh...," he looks around. Blinks. And honestly for a moment thinks it's something else. Although they do seem like wings. "Since when... what...," could it be Crowley's wings that suddenly... turned white?

"I don't know, you almost... well, nearly knocked me over."

"Me?!" he moves a bit... and with him move HIS wings. He raises his eyebrows. Crowley raises a hand towards them. "But..." they ruffle a bit... and he raises his eyebrows more when he feels that... they're his! But... but! Since when do his wings come out like this without thinking!?

"Did you see something or what? Nothing happened, right?" he runs his hand over the feathers, stroking them, and looks at him.

The face of infinite distress on the angel's face. Come on... so his weird human parts do things he doesn't know they can do, it's somewhat understandable. But the WINGS? He doesn't even know how they came out through his jacket!

Crowley tries to look to see if... who knows, maybe there was someone at the door or something.

No, no... No.

Well, this doesn't make much sense!

Well, enjoy them for two more seconds... Because obviously he's going to retract them suddenly.

The demon stands there with his hands raised for a second longer and then makes a sad face.

"Oh... What happened?"

"Nothing! Nothing happened!" he squeezes his eyes shut and turns away. Honestly, he would like to bring them out again, just because he can, and then put them back in. In fact, he does.

"What are you doing?" he watches him do it.

"Nothing! What does it look like I'm doing?!" plus he sounds a bit annoyed. He brings them out again and then puts them back in.

"What are you doing with your wings?" He blinks and raises his eyebrows.

"Nothing! What does it look like I'm doing?!" He's a bit annoyed with them.

"Uh... I don't know, bringing them out and putting them away. You scared me."

"Sorry, okay?"

He raises his hands because, damn, the aggressiveness, the angel looks at him out of the corner of his eye, and closes his eyes, blushing.

"I-It was... a reflex. Or something," he adds, clearing his throat a bit.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, that you saw something."

"I think I... saw a spider or something. Exactly."

"A spid... Oh, come on, don't tell me we have bloody spiders now too," he goes back to where the plants are, furrowing his brow. Aziraphale breathes a bit easier seeing that he's bought it. Sorry plants.

"Yeah. YEAH. It was big and fat."

"They'll hear about this later," he mutters and turns back to him still furrowing his brow. Aziraphale breathes a bit easier seeing that he's bought it. Sorry plants.

"Yeah. YEAH. It was big and fat. Although spiders do interest me..."

"Oh... they do?"

"Well, if your boss controlled a flock of flies, you'd also be interested in a couple of allies to eat them. If Hastur wasn't the toad guy, maybe he'd have a couple of those too."

"Oh..."

"Actually, I don't understand how they get along so well... or well, how they don't get along worse. Although, if it's about the food chain, the snakes..."

"Neither one nor the other," he responds, relaxing a bit, honestly.

"Eh?"

"You can perfectly well eat flies and toads, so..."

"And yet not..."

"No..."

"Well, it's not like we get along, but..."

"But...? I'm not sure I follow."

"Well, not THAT BAD. I mean, it all depends on what you compare it to."

"Are you going to try to convince me now that you get along well and are friends with your fellow demons?"

"Well, you're the complete social recluse—"

"I'm not a recluse at all."

"Oh, right, I forgot about your friend the barber."

"I am friends with many people on Earth..." he frowns.

"Oh, yes, I'm the only one who doesn't enjoy the privilege."

"You... have another problem," he looks at him sideways. Rolls his eyes.

"I know that already," he suddenly decides.

"What do you know?" taking a step towards him.

"The problem I have."

"And what problem is that?"

"That I can't be your friend," the look, Aziraphale turns his head with THAT look, blushing, by the way.

"Of course you can't be my friend. You're a demon!"

"It's not because of that," he sings.

"Yes, it is! Of course it is! You're a demon, and I'm an angel, and we can't be... friends."

"No, not at all."

"I don't know what reason you're imagining, but I'm SURE that's not it!" still not looking at him, nose in the air.

"If that's how you convince yourself..."

"No, I'm not convincing myself. It's just that... we're colleagues. Well, somewhat... and NOTHING MORE."

"Business associates," he nods, smiling and snapping his fingers. Apparently nothing happens.

The angel blinks, turning to look at him. Smirk.

"What?!"

"What?"

"What did you... business associate?"

"Nothing," he maintains his smirk.

"That's not true," he frowns.

Crowley shrugs and puts his hands behind his back, going to sit back on the couch again. Aziraphale follows him.

"I made the 'business associates' thing more obvious," he gestures with his hand.

"More obvious how?"

Still smirking.

"But what did you do?"

"Nothing..."

He frowns more, glancing at him sideways and crossing his arms.

"Well, it won't be that obvious... but I can perfectly well make it clear that we're not even acquaintances."

He continues to move his hand where he also wears his ring, which has wings as it has changed before in hell, but then he forgot that he also had to change Aziraphale's until now.

He ends up... looking at his hand, I mean, because it's not like Crowley fans himself all the time as if he were a lion with his tail, and okay, now... now he notices that he's wearing the ring... which, by the way, he wasn't wearing before. He blushes.

"Oh..." he stops his hand, with his own... so he stops moving it, and well, just touching his hand like that... holding his hand, even with light touches, already accelerates his heart quite a bit.

Crowley caresses him a little with his fingers, and his skin tingles a little. Heavens, Demon... he still doesn't understand why... you don't touch humans more. It's better that you don't.

"What is... this?"

"What do you mean?"

"It has wings..." he touches it on the finger... and looks at it more closely. He blushes.

Crowley swallows hard, blushing, and turns his face a little, fighting against the need to pull his hand away.

"Yes, I know."

Aziraphale looks at his own... which now has a snake shape, obviously, moistening his lips without letting go of his hand. He smiles again. He bites his lip a little, and looks into his eyes.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes... I do."

Crowley raises his eyebrows. The angel smiles a little more, and he approaches him a little, quite excited and... the doorbell rings at Crowley's house, at the same time his phone rings.