#aziraphale presses interesting plants into his books to show a certain demon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ziraley-j-crow · 4 years

Text

“When I’m 64″ - Crowley x Aziraphale

This one is going to be based on one of my favorite Beatles songs. Each chapter will be based on a verse of the song.

I know some of the lyrics might not coincide with their celestial nature, but we’ll have to make do!

I know Aziraphale doesn’t sleep, but I wanted to work it into my story, I just felt it worked. Thank you!

Here’s a link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCTunqv1Xt4

“When I get older losing my hair, many years from now, will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings bottle of wine?”

13th February 2020.

The day before Valentine’s Day.

“What do you mean you’ve never celebrated it?” Aziraphale was almost dumbfounded by the words coming from Crowley’s mouth, his hot coca not even meeting his lips.

“What?! It’s just a human holiday! Why do they even celebrate it, anyway?” Crowley said defensively, leaning against the kitchen counter. Another morning gone by without the worry of impending doom looming over both of their shoulders.

It was a bright and early Thursday morning at Aziraphale’s bookshop. Crowley had found himself in Aziraphale’s kitchen, tinkering around the place before Aziraphale offered him a warm drink. The two sat together, embracing in chat.

“Well, although the humans had made a story about the Saint Valentine, I believe it was the poem by the great Geoffrey Chaucer that really helped boost morale for the holiday! The Parliament of Fowls, if I remember the name correctly..” Aziraphale tried to remember bits of the poem.

“So tomorrow, you will see humans expressing love for their loved ones. Family, friends, partners...” Aziraphale trailed off, smiling fondly. “Just to show them they love them. It’s rather lovely, the whole thing.”

“Whatever it is, I certainly haven’t dabbled with it.” Crowley said, sounding uninterested.

Oh, but how we had wanted to. For the past six thousand years pining for the angel, to finally have a whole day dedicated to spoiling him? You bet your ass he was on board with this.

“Oh, well I hadn’t really expected such a devilish fiend such as yourself to celebrate a rather joyous occasion.” Aziraphale said sarcastically, taking a sip from his drink. Crowley sneered at him, getting up from his spot at the kitchen table.

“Where are you going so soon?” Aziraphale asked, setting his mug down on the table, his gaze following Crowley.

“To get ice cream or commit a felony. I’ll decide in the car. Thanks for the coffee!”

Crowley made a beeline for Soho.

“Right. What the fuck do I buy him?” Crowley muttered to himself, gripping the steering wheel as his mind wondered. Ignoring the smell of burning rubber (presumably the tires), he dodged the slower cars ahead of him - rather flawlessly. He needed to get something before tomorrow, and he needed something now.

“Okay, what does he like...” he asked himself out loud.

A memory suddenly came to him.

“Listen,” said Crowley desperately, “how many musicians do you think your side have got, eh? First grade, I mean.’’

Aziraphale looked taken aback.

‘’Well, I should think-’’ he began.

‘’Two,’’ said Crowley. ‘’Elgar and Listz. That’s all. We’ve got all the rest. Beethoven, Brahms, all the Bachs, Mozart, the lot. Can you imagine eternity with Elgar?’‘

Aziraphale shut his eyes. ‘’All to easily,’’ he groaned.

Crowley eventually pulled up outside a rather modern looking vinyl store in Soho. Several artists he had never heard of plastered the names on covers of vinyls, which were so neatly placed in the shop front. He hesitated.

“Would he even like a vinyl?”

“Of course he would, he hoards the bloody things.” he reassured himself, getting out of the car and approaching the store. He knew all the composers Aziraphale loved. In fact, he shamelessly knew everything that Aziraphale loved. He made his way into the shop, the many names of Aziraphale’s beloved composers whirling around his mind as he scaled along the aisles of neatly stacked and alphabetically organised records.

A song played smoothly from the shop speakers - a song that can only be described the way the warm sunrise touches your face first thing in the morning, the violins could carry your troubles away and leave you floating in sempiternal bliss.

“When I fall in love... It will be forever...”

Initially, this wasn’t Crowley’s type of music. But have you ever heard a song that makes you stop in your tracks and think-

“Oh.”

Because that’s exactly what has happened to Crowley.

“To get ice cream or commit a felony. I’ll decide in the car. Thanks for the coffee!”

With that, Crowley was gone. The bookshop was filled with silence once more, the bustling of the streets muffled by the walls of the lonely shop.

“Oh.. I hope I didn’t offend him.” Aziraphale sighed sadly, turning back to the table. His mind was too focused on what happened, he wasn’t interested in finishing his drink. Had he ruined the wonderful routine he and Crowley had subconsciously slipped into?

“Don’t be absurd, you fool. It was hardly that easy to offend him!” he tried to reassure himself, but his mind wouldn’t lay off as he got up from the table. He paced the kitchen, and when he had paced all he could in there, he paced the whole bookshop, all the while overthinking.

He stopped in his tracks.

“I could call him! It’s not too soon after breakfast, surely?” Aziraphale rushed to his study, almost tearing the old phone from the wire. But he stood still, clutching the phone to his chest. Was it hesitation? Was he nervous? Just call him!

Aziraphale prepared himself for what he would say.

“Crowley! I was just wondering... No, not like that.”

“Crowley, you wily, old serpent! No, that doesn’t work either.”

He took a deep breath, and dialed in the demon’s number slowly, his heart racing. It’s simple, just call!

He finally pressed dial, each beep feeling like eternity. Any minute now, he’d pick up on the other end and everything would be fine.

Any second now.

With every beep, Aziraphale could feel his stomach churn with anxiety. He could picture Crowley look at the caller ID on his mobile, and scoffing as he tossed his phone on the sofa.

The call ended without anyone picking up, and Aziraphale brought the phone away from his ear. He considered calling again, his brain trying to think of reasons why Crowley hadn’t answered.

“Perhaps it’d be best not to call again, don’t want to be a bother.” Aziraphale said sadly, and placed the phone down.

Crowley didn’t know how he managed to find his way back to the Bentley while carrying a tower of vinyls, but he did. He could have easily miracled them into the car instead, right?

But no. He is an idiot.

An idiot in love, who has no idea what he’s doing, but he like feels he should.

Once he had the vinyls in the car, he got into the driver’s seat, and another memory came to him.

“That’s it then,” said Crowley, with a gleam of triumph. He knew Aziraphale’s weak spot alright. “No more compact discs. No more Albert Hall. No more Proms. No more Glyndbourne. Just celestial harmonies all day long.”

“Ineffable.” Aziraphale murmured.

Crowley was getting the hang of his gift buying shenanigans. Perhaps he was excited about this? Was he excited about showing the gifts to Aziraphale? To see how happy it would make him? Is this a good deed?!

“Hardly... I mean, technically it’s not a good deed. Because I’m buying these things, that means someone is missing out! Yes! HA!” Crowley reassured himself as he sped back to his apartment.

As he staggered in the door with the vinyls to his chest, he finally realized he could simply miracle the vinyls into his apartment. While glowering at his plants, who were trembling at the sight of him, he snapped his fingers, and the vinyls disappeared neatly to the kitchen.

“Right. Glyndbourne. Let’s see.” Crowley flopped down on the sofa, pulled out his phone and worked a few little miracles of his own.

14th February 2020.

Aziraphale’s Bookshop.

Aziraphale didn’t get much sleep last night. His mind was too full from the previous morning’s events. He was ridden with anxiety, thinking he had hurt Crowley with what he thought was friendly banter. And now he wouldn’t answer his call?

The sunlight peeked through his bedroom window, the new day announcing itself to Aziraphale. But he has been awake long before the sunrise. He sighed, sitting up in his bed. He spent most of the night reading to help ease his mind. Perhaps Romeo and Juliet wasn’t the best choice of book

As soon as he was dressed in his usual attire, there was a loud knocking on the shop door. He glanced down at the bedside clock for the time, and frowned.

“It’s not even 9 o’clock yet. Who could possibly be looking for books at this time?” As he let his bedroom he quickly adjusted his bow tie, scanning the room to ensure it was in it’s immaculate state.

Another irritable knock came from the door.

“I’m here! Just a tick!” Aziraphale rushed to the door, unraveling the blinds on the door, putting on his best shop keeper smile.

It was Crowley.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley said aloud when he saw Aziraphale through the window of the door, and smiled. Aziraphale, who was certain that he felt his heart stop for a solid two seconds, immediately opened the door, letting Crowley in.

“Crowley, I-”

“Before you say anything, Aziraphale, I had no idea what to buy, so I bought everything.” Crowley rushed as he walked into the bookshop past Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was stunned, “Everything?! What do you mean?” He shut the door behind Crowley as he strolled in, and rolled down the blinds.

“Valentine’s Day? Remember? You said people buy each other things when they... Yeah, I bought you some stuff, I guess.” Crowley trailed off, trying to be suave as he investigated the shelved books like he always does.

And it happened. It was quick, but intense. So intense, Aziraphale thought he had lost his vision. In that moment of realization, a soft pink aura had appeared around Crowley.

Something in the way Crowley was skimming through the various books had caught Aziraphale in a trance. Crowley had removed his sunglasses to get a better look, his golden snake eyes relaxed as they studied the unfamiliar titles. The sunlight complimented his hair, an illuminating orange, and visibly soft to touch. Crowley had picked up a random book, flicking through the old pages. Aziraphale smiled at how his brows furrowed as he tried to understand it’s contents. The soft glow from the aura was immensely calming.

Love.

“Dunno what that means. Are you alright, angel?” Crowley became uninterested in the book and placed it down, his focus returning to Aziraphale, who was staring at him in awe.

“Yes, I-I’m quite alr-”

“The gifts! I nearly forgot the bloody gifts!” Crowley suddenly exclaimed, and Aziraphale jumped slightly. Crowley snapped his fingers, and every visible surface of the bookshop had gifts of many sorts on top of it.

“I just.. Y’know.. Knew what you liked because you always talk about them.” Crowley explained, almost bashful as Aziraphale gasped at the sudden entourage of gifts.

Neatly wrapped classical vinyls. Flamboyant bouquets of flowers Aziraphale had never seen. Several bottles of Aziraphale’s favourite wine stood glistening in the sun. There were small boxes in shiny wrapping paper topped with delicate ribbon, with beautiful colors. Aziraphale walked over to the vinyls, all composers he loved dearly. His attention was drawn to the flowers, their smell so overwhelmingly fresh.

Aziraphale was speechless as he tried to take everything in.

“You don’t like it?” Crowley asked after a minute, seeing how Aziraphale had said nothing for some time.

The total opposite, in fact. Aziraphale, who had his back to Crowley, felt his eyes welling up with tears of pure joy. He tried to blink them away quickly without them being noticed, but he was so overwhelmed with sheer bliss, there was nothing he could do.

“Angel?” Crowley asked him softly, “I can return them if you want. Can get cash or store credit-.”

“I love them.” Aziraphale interrupted, not facing Crowley. His fingers gently traced the delicate petals of a pale pink rose.

“Then why didn’t you say anythi- Wait, angel, why are you crying then?” Crowley approached Aziraphale with caution. He’d never seen the angel cry, and was certain he’d never made him cry before.

“Oh no, no it’s fine! I’m fine, my dear.” Aziraphale quickly wiped his eyes, but the tremble in his voice gave it away.

“Please don’t lie to me, Aziraphale. What did I do wrong? What can I do to make you better?” Crowley’s voice was softer as he got closer, stopping when Aziraphale raised his head, and turned to face him.

Crowley’s expression soften, his eyes widened as Aziraphale looked at him with glistening blue hues. Although his bottom lip was quivering, he still managed to force it into a smile.

“Crowley, you have done nothing wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a small smile. “I suppose I’m just overwhelmed with joy!”

Crowley blinked. “Joy?” he studied Aziraphale for a moment. “But you’re crying? I don’t understand...” The angel wasn’t used to such attention from the demon, and tried to avert his gaze.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve just never had... This!” he gestured to everything Crowley had gifted him. He took a shaky breath in. “It’s such a wonderful feeling, I can’t even begin to explain.” Crowley was amazed.

“What do you mean, you’ve never had this?” Crowley remained focused on Aziraphale. “Are you telling me, in the 6000 years we’ve known each other, nobody has ever bought you anything? Gifts? Nothing?!”

Aziraphale said nothing, but simply shook his head, somewhat ashamed. Crowley stepped over to Aziraphale and gently gripped his shoulders, which took the angel by surprise. Aziraphale looked up at him, confused.

“Crowley, what the Heaven’s are-”

“I don’t know how many people you have known you throughout the last six millennia..”

Aziraphale couldn’t focus on Crowley as he trailed off on a rant. His eyes, as bright and intense as burning stars, were hypnotizing Aziraphale. He lied to himself. He told himself he wanted to look away, but the thought of shamelessly admiring them was too inviting. It was a sin he was willing to repent for, for all eternity.

There he was, in the middle of his bookshop, face to face with the most delectable and alluring creature he had the grace of walking the earth with for the past 6000 years. There he was, standing in the middle of the room, listening to his demon list every reason why Aziraphale should be cherished. What did he do to deserve this?

That’s when it hit him.

“So whoever hasn’t taken the time to treat you with an ounce of respect is a bloody idiot.” Crowley said, blinking at last. He was about to say something else, but stopped himself, his grip loosening from Aziraphale, and he took a step back.

Azirphale was speechless. His vision became cloudy, causing Crowley to appear blurry in front of him, but this time he didn’t try hiding his tears, and let them roll down his cheeks.

“Aziraphale? Did I say someth-”

“How long?” Aziraphale interrupted, his voice a shaky whisper.

“What?” Crowley asked softly. Aziraphale cleared his throat in an attempt to stop the lump in his throat from giving him away, and adjusted his bow tie, a habit for comfort.

“H-How long have you...” Aziraphale gestured to the gifts that were surrounding them. “This?” He felt rather meek, trying to discreetly get his words out.

“Angel, this is not the time for a game of charades.” Crowley said desperately, imitating Aziraphale’s gesturing, causing the angel to huff.

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, Crowley. How long have you been in love with me?” Aziraphale’s nerves got the better of him, the question ripped itself out, and his hands flew up to his mouth to stop his from saying anything else.

“Now look what you did, you’ve ruined a perfectly good friendship. Well done, lad.” he thought to himself. He couldn’t read Crowley’s expression. Was he angry? Was he going to laugh and walk out? He had to do something. Maybe there was a way he could turn back time to literally ten seconds prior?

“I-I mean, ignore that question. Dear, what I meant to a-ask was-”

You’ve heard of the age old expression “to take your breath away”, right? Well, that’s what happened to Aziraphale. In a flash, Crowley was gripping Aziraphale’s coat front, their bodies rigid with nerves. Crowley caught Aziraphale in a nervous kiss, which made the angel yelp in surprise. Crowley immediately retracted, not daring to look the other in the eye.

“Angel I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me again. See ya.” Crowley turned quickly and made his way to the shop door, but was stopped from opening it when he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley didn’t half expect Aziraphale to have followed him, and certainly didn’t expect to be kissing the angel again, this time against the bookshop door. This kiss was urgent, exciting. Aziraphale took in a deep breath, hesitantly putting his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. It was messy, but it was new to them. It’d be like learning to ride a bike, they’d just need more practice.

“Mm.. M-Wait. Angel, wait.” Crowley mumbled between kisses, slowly opening his eyes. Aziraphale stopped immediately.

“Did I do something wrong?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley shook his head, excited, fiery eyes gazing dotingly at the angel.

“No, quite the opposite, But I think we have some explaining to do before anything else happens.” Crowley said with a smile. Aziraphale nodded, his heart beating with excitement, but led Crowley into the living room.

“Have a seat, my dear.” Aziraphale gestured to the couch that Crowley had sat on many times before, and once more he made himself comfortable. Aziraphale sat on the seat opposite him, adjusting his coat.

However, the two sat in a deafening silence for the first time, shooting quick glances at each other. The streets outside had come alive now, Aziraphale was certain it was past the shop’s opening hour, but that didn’t bother him at all. The ticking from the clock seemed to be the peacemaker.

“Perhaps I should start.” Aziraphale began. He was nervous, good God he was nervous, but at least they had the time and space to say what they felt. They had waited for so long to bring this to the table.

“Crowley, I have been foolishly blind to your emotions. For how long, I do not know.” Crowley stared intently at Aziraphale, listening to his every word. “But for however long I haven’t acknowledged your feelings, I hope you know I am deeply sorry.” Aziraphale finished with a sigh. Perhaps a sigh of relief. He looked to Crowley.

“Sorry? Aziraphale, what could you possibly be sorry for?” Crowley asked, shifting in his seat. “It wasn’t deliberate. You, not knowing how much I... I like you, is not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.” he said with a soft chuckle. “I just wish I had told you sooner.” Crowley said quietly, and Aziraphale smiled softly at him. He thought for a moment.

“My dear, may I ask exactly how much you like me?” Aziraphale asked, the questions sounding more flirtatious than innocent, which took Crowley by surprise.

“H-How much?” Crowley said, and Aziraphale nodded eagerly. Crowley cleared his throat, quickly thinking for the most appropriate action to do next. An idea came to him.

“Would you like me to show you exactly how much?” he asked gingerly, leaning forward in his seat towards Aziraphale. The angel’s eyebrows knit together.

“Crowley, we’ve made this clear. You already have shown me-” He stopped when he noticed Crowley raising an eyebrow. “Oh,” he said softly “Then yes, I’d very much like you to.”

In the blink of an eye, they were on each other once more. With eyes closed, their lips met with an urgent crash, neither of them seeming to mind the blunt force. The kiss meant a number of things for bth of them - comfort, relief, delirium, certainty, worship, love.

Six thousand years of friendship, bonding, judgement, rejection, fighting, all for this moment. And boy, was it worth it.

They were excited, roaming hands touching everywhere they had waited to. Crowley’s hands gently cupped Aziraphale’s face, pulling his lips impossibly closer to his own. He breathed him in through his nose, sighing contently into the kiss. Aziraphale’s hands had snaked their way around Crowley’s waist, and was pulling himself flush against the demon.

Personal space? Who’s that?

“Mm..A garden saw I... Full of blossomy boughs...” Crowley breathed between kisses. Aziraphale stopped kissing him. The two were breathless, but stayed where they were. Aziraphale was wide eyed, visibly impressed by the words he just heard.

“Crowley? Was that-” Aziraphale voice was excited.

Yes, it was. The poem Aziraphale briefly mentioned to Crowley the day before. The poor demon took it upon himself to study the poem inside and out. Just to impress his angel.

“Upon a river, in a green mead.” Crowley continued, gazing lovingly at Aziraphale, a tempting smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Aziraphale wasted no time in returning to the kiss, nearly knocking Crowley down with sheer excitement. Crowley giggled at the behavior of the seemingly quiescent angel

“There as sweetness evermore enough is..”

Crowley slowly trailed his hands down Aziraphale’s back, the angel not seeming to mind the slightest, seeing as one of his hands were busy with Crowley’s hair, and the other was cupping the back of his neck. He certainly didn’t mind when Crowley gently squeezed his buttocks, the thrill of it caused him to gasp and grab a fistful of Crowley’s fiery hair.

“My dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Aziraphale said suddenly, when Crowley moaned at the sensation. Crowley opened his eyes slowly, as if to relish in the feeling. His pupils were fully blown, a sight Aziraphale wasn’t too familiar with.

“I think.. I think I liked that.” Crowley said, his voice was gravelly and he squeezed Aziraphale’s buttocks again, pulling him flush against him, smirking down at the angel as he did so.

“Oh, is that so?” Aziraphale played along. “What if I did it again?” he asked innocently. Crowley suppressed a moan, and began kissing below Aziraphale’s ear. It was Aziraphale’s turn to moan, pleasure rippling through him at the unfamiliar sensation. The sound Crowley elicited from him was heavenly. It excited Crowley, and he wanted to hear more.

“Better make haste, angel, or I may just discorporate in your arms.” Crowley growled into his ear, slowly peppering light kisses along Aziraphale’s soft neck. Aziraphale sighed in bliss, his fingers threading through Crowley’s hair once more. He’d never felt anything like this.

“Oh Crowley, that’s wonderful.” Aziraphale purred in bliss. The last place he ever imagined he’d be was in the middle of his bookshop, with a demon whispering sweet temptations into his ear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this..” Crowley said between each kiss.

“Do what, my dear- Ohh my goodness!” Aziraphale moaned in euphoria when he felt Crowley nip a tender spot on his neck, and tugged Crowley’s hair once more, high on pleasure.

With that, Crowley found Aziraphale’s lips again, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. It was urgent, passionate, and they were both drunk on love, feeding off each other. Crowley gently guided them towards the couch, neither pausing for a breath. Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch, dragging Crowley down with him. The demon straddled his hips, completely flush against Aziraphale. The world could be ending right now, and this is all they would want to be doing. Nothing else mattered at this point in time.

Crowley pulled back from the kiss, the taste of the angel still on his lips. He placed his hands on both of Aziraphale’s shoulders for balance. Breathless, the two sat on top of each other, a childish giggle erupting from the both of them. Crowley could watch Aziraphale’s face light up when he laughed for the rest of his eternal life. The way his nose wrinkled when he beamed a smile was nearly enough to discorporate him. But his laugh - oh, his laugh - gleeful and bubbly, was enough to rid the demon of any negativity.

“Has anyone told you how devastatingly radiant your eyes are?” Crowley said, his tone drenched in awe as he lightly traced his thumb across Aziraphale’s cheek, causing the angel to blush.

“I hardly believe anyone would think such-” Aziraphale hushed when Crowley gently placed his finger on his lips, and gave Crowley a look which translated to “And what is the meaning of this?!”

“Cerulean blue, like the ocean on the sunniest day. Clinquant in the sun’s brash rays. A sapphire paradise I am eager to drown in, if you’ll allow me to. If I stare any longer, I’ll be floating in sempiternal tranquility. If your eyes are the sea, then I’m shamelessly a thalassophile.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Aziraphale was speechless due to pure astonishment at Crowley’s flawless use of words. Crowley, the now hopeless romantic, was still gazing into Azirphale’s eyes, perhaps staying true to his words.

“Crowley, where on earth did you learn that?” Aziraphale asked quietly, blinking to wake Crowley from his trance. Crowley was visibly pleased with his work, beaming a smile.

“When I first lay my eyes on you, it’s the only thing that went around my mind that day. And everyday since then. Just kept it tucked away until now.” Crowley confessed.

“Oh Crowley, my dear.” Aziraphale cooed. His brows drew together as he turned a deeper shade of red, looking away to avoid Crowley’s gaze. He was at a loss for words, the charm from Crowley was something he wasn’t used to, and Crowley knew. Crowley gently put his fingers under Aziraphale’s chin to guide him back.

“Hey,” he said softly to get the angel’s attention once more. “Would I lie to you?” he asked, his eyes trailing down to the angel’s plush lips, before lazily dragging his gaze back up to meet Aziraphale’s.

With a coy smile, Aziraphale pressed his forehead against Crowley’s. “No.”

The two share a chaste kiss together. Unbothered, peaceful, on a Friday morning in Central London in the bookshop.

Their first Valentine’s Day was a success this year.

#GoodOmens #Aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale loves crowley #crowley loves aziraphale #ineffablehusbands #romance #ngk

32 notes · View notes

spootiliousrps · 5 years

Text

The Truth is Neigh [Ineffable Husbands]

Stranger: [Your choice whether it's established or not] It's tea time, angel. Why am I standing in an empty book shop? C

You: I'm terribly sorry, my dear. I got a bit caught up. I will be there shortly. A [unest]

Stranger: What got you out of the shop, angel? C

You: It was just as business matter. Nothing to worry about. A

Stranger: Business? Find a new book? C

You: [Delayed] Yes. Quite. A

Stranger: Alright.... shall I get tea started then? C

You: That would be very helpful. Yes. Thank you, dear. A

Stranger: I brought pastries as well from that little bakery you love. C Everything for tea will be ready when you get in. C It seems like you need to unwind. C

You: How very thoughtful. A

You: [Opposed to paragraphs?]

Stranger: ((Of course not! :) Would you mind starting?))

You: [Not at all]

You: It was another fifteen minutes before Aziraphale ushered through the door, arms empty of the book that had been mentioned. He appeared to be a bit distracted as he shut the door behind him, locking up and taking a moment to straightening his vest before stepping into the small sitting room. "I apologize for my tardiness, dear. I really did try to get away." He reassured. "Thank you for starting the tea." He added before he realized he forgot to take off his coat. "Oh." He mumbled in realization turning to head back to the coat rack.

Stranger: Crowley was lounging on one of the couches in clear view of the door, munching on a few of the biscuits that he had brought, tea kept warm with a miracle. He hadn't thought that the angel would be this long, and couldn't really imagine what had taken the angel away in the first place. Even if Aziraphale had said that he went for a new book he had seemed... incredibly distracted. And even if there would have been a book, Aziraphale did /not/ miss tea time. Especially if Crowley was going to be joining him for it.

Stranger: ((Sorry too soon))

Stranger: He looked up as the angel walked in, eyebrow raised as he watched the angel's distracted movements through the store. "Of course, Zira," he murmured. He had never quite seen the angel like this... unless he was hiding something, like with the antichrist. "Sit down, angel. You look like you need some tea."

You: Aziraphale hung up his coat before reappearing once more. "Yes... Quite." He agreed moving to sink down with a small soft smile that did quite meet his eyes. He reached for the mug waiting for him and brought it to his lips, giving a small contented hum. He seemed to breath in the steam, tension fading a bit from his shoulders before he offered another smile and reached for a pastry. "How has your day been, dear?" He asked politely.

Stranger: Crowley smirked just slightly as he watched the angel relax. It quickly moved away as he saw that the angel was still suffering a bit. "Well.. not much, as usual," he shrugged. "Just sort of... waiting for this. Took care of my plants a bit, yelled at them. Took in a horrible movie this afternoon just to pass the time. What about you, angel?" he asked curiously. He was certainly hoping that just a few small questions would have the angel opening up to him.

You: Aziraphale's smile faltered slightly at the question though he did his best to hide the fact. He gave a small shrug as he leaned back in his chair. "I opened early this morning. Had a cup of tea. Went to the cafe around the corner for breakfast." He offered, averting his gaze. "Managed to avoid some customers then was off to lunch and that business meeting I mentioned. Nothing too extravagant."

Stranger: "What was that business meeting about? Give me all the details, Angel. I love to hear you talk about your books," he offered up. Would this be enough? He needed the angel to be honest with him. He could see that whatever this was was completely eating him up inside. "Please, 'Ziraphale?" he asked, taking off his glasses to look at him properly, looking as pleadingly at him as possible.

You: Aziraphale glanced at him, pausing only briefly before forcing his gaze away, pain obvious. "I certainly wouldn't want to bore you." He mumbled softly. "Really its nothing to concern yourself with, dear." He offered before pushing the plate of pastries towards the Demon. "Though I'd be more than happy to tell you about this new tomb I've been studying." He offered a bit more brightly, obviously trying to change the subject.

Stranger: "You wouldn't be boring me, angel," he promised gently. He gazed over the selection, grabbing a random biscuit and popping it in his mouth. "I suppose that would be... alright... " he sighed, leaning back against the sofa, clearly a bit disappointed that the angel was being so secretive with him. Perhaps he had been wrong about their relationship after all.

You: Once again that pained expression passed over the Angel's features despite his attempts to hide it. "Well, it was recently discovered in the ruins in South America. I believe its some sort of historical record but I'm not sure of what. I've managed to translate most of the dates but the words are proving a bit tricky." He offered, obviously excited about it all.

Stranger: Crowley smiled softly, he supposed he could let the angel talk about this sort of thing for now. He would get down to the bottom of this soon. "That is very interesting, angel," he offered up. He leaned on his hand, propped up on the arm of the sofa, hanging onto the angels every word, but with each part of the story his heart squeezed in his chest as he felt the discomfort from the angel. "'Zira..." he said after a few moments, stopping the angel from talking too much. "What is going on with you, angel?"

You: "Hm?" He hummed curiously, arching a brow. "What do you mean, dear?" He asked, feigning misunderstanding. "If you're worried because I was late, I assure you it won't happen again. I am simply a bit tired; lost track of time. Its nothing to worry about." He attempted to reassure, giving his knee a soft pat. "Everything is quite in order."

Stranger: The demon shook his head forcefully, getting up and heading to the backroom, finding a bottle of wine and some glasses. "I know it's only tea time, but this is getting absolutely ridiculous. If I have to make you drink until you're bloody honest with me, I will angel," the demon said, eyes clearly showing his disappointment. "You should not be keeping things from me, Aziraphale," he said, the full name that he didn't use very often very pointedly enunciated.

You: The Angel's gaze followed him as he moved to collect the glasses and bottles, a frown replacing his smile fairly quickly. "Crowley...." He sighed softly before shamefully averting his eyes once more. He shifted a bit in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with being called out. "No reason to be so brash." He grumbled, sulking a bit before falling silent. After a moment, however, he gave another huff. "I really don't see why you must know about everything." He chided. "Perhaps it is simply too unimportant to be bothered with." He added.

Stranger: "If it was so unimportant you would have already told me," Crowley pointed out. "You tell me everything, Aziraphale. And I gladly listen to every word. And when something is eating you up like this, enough that I, a bloody /demon/ can feel it coming off of you... that's a serious problem." His voice was becoming softer, setting down the glasses and wine on the other end of the table. It had been more of an empty threat. "I suppose I don't need to know anything, but when I see you sufferent I want to fix it," the demon admitted, looking down at his feet as a small blush crept into his cheeks.

You: Aziraphale seemed to soften at that, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on the Demon's shoulder. "I know dear." He offered, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "And you have no idea how much that means to me." He added. "But perhaps... Just this once. You'll allow me, my own secret. I don't have many anymore." He pointed out playfully. "I assure you, it is nothing that you should worry about." He offered, tiptoeing the line between the truth and a lie. He seemed as if he were going to say more when suddenly he tensed eyes shooting towards the phone only a moment before it began to ring. "Oh..." He whispered softly almost in disappointment. "I should get that. Pardon me." He managed as he stood.

Stranger: Crowley felt everything fall on top of him in that moment, his heart falling into the pit of his stomach. But he smiled quite gently in agreement, swallowing. "Right... of course, angel," he sighed softly. He moved back to the couch as the other went to answer the phone. He felt almost... betrayed. He had apparently quite underestimated their relationship. Though... he supposed that everyone wanted certain secrets. He didn't have many anymore either... but he rather liked that. Liked sharing everything with his angel... minus his feelings.

You: Aziraphale picked up the phone hesitantly before pressing it to his ear. "A.Z. Books, How may I help you?" He offered pleasantly. There was a moment of silence as someone spoke on the other end and the tension in the Angel's shoulders seemed to grow. "Y-yes, of course. One moment please." He replied before setting the receiver down. He glanced back at the Demon and offered a forced smile. "I'll be right back, dear." He offered before disappearing into the back room, obviously moving to continue the call there.

Stranger: Crowley watched the angel leave and he felt everything leave his body. He wasn't sure what was leaving but he felt.... limp and upset. He couldn't believe that the angel was in such pain and he wouldn't come to the demon for help. He moved to lay down on the couch, arm covering his face as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. As much as he wanted to leave... to just say fuck it, he couldn't leave his angel in distress. He would have even followed the other, but he knew that it would only make Zira more upset.

You: The sound of Aziraphale's muffled voice echoed through the bookshop, too low to be discerned. The only other sound was the muffled response of the caller on the other end of the receiver still left off the base on the table. For the most part Aziraphale's tone didn't shift not until there was a harsh and hurried. "No, sir!" Before a floor board creaked as if the Angel was peaking out to make sure Crowley hadn't heard. He cleared his throat before continuing in his harsh whisper.

Stranger: Crowley perked up a bit at that, but decided to let the angel have his way in Crowley completely staying out of it. If the angel complained well... that was on him, wasn't it? He shouldn't have told Crowley to leave him alone then. He thought about it for only a moment before sitting up, opening up the wine and pouring himself a very full glass, chugging the whole thing before pouring another.

You: It wasn't much longer until Aziraphale returned, looking even more tense than before. He by passed his chair and the forgotten tea. "I'm afraid I have to cut things short, my dear." He offered, words dripping with remorse. "I'm terribly sorry. You're more than welcome to stay. Have as much as you'd like." He added, another one of those fake smiles presenting itself. "Rain check perhaps? Next week maybe?" He offered, already pulling his coat on.

Stranger: Crowley gulped down his current glass of wine, grabbing the bottle again and frowning when he realized he had finished it... was it one or two of the same bottle that he had had? Who knew. He sat up to look at the angel, shaking his head. "Whatever, angel," he spat out. "Don't have to reschedule. Don't have to have tea ag-again. 'S fine. You.. you go off... be secretive and all that... don't care anymore. Thought... thought you... trusted me... cuz I... you're everything... for me... trust you with... my heart," he murmured, standing up, shaking his head. He swayed a bit and sighed, deciding to sober up. He had the worst taste in his mouth after, and immediately regretted everything he just said. "I... right. I've gotta go."

You: The pain on Aziraphale's face at the words was perhaps more than he would like to admit. "Crowley..." He mumbled softly. "Thats not... Don't do that." He pleaded with a shake of his head. He found himself unable to refrain from taking a step closer, just as the Demon began to sober. "No... Crowley, come now don't act so-" He began but his large grandfather clock began to chime and he glanced at it, brows furrowing. His gaze shifted between the time and the Demon obviously trying to make a decision. "I have to go." He finally sighed as he backed towards the door. "But I'll be back. Perhaps we can discuss it then?" He offered, gaze pleading. "I /do/ trust you Crowley... More than anyone in existence. I just need you to trust /me/ right now."

Stranger: ((Agh I'm terribly sorry but I should be going soon. is there any way at all that you'd want to continue this over email?))

You: [Absolutely! ***********@gmail.com]

Stranger: ((Amazing!! This angst is... god I haven't had good angst in forever, so thank you for that. I will send the log with my response! :) ))

You: [Lol! You're very welcome ^.^ I promise its going to get worse >:3 ]

Stranger: ((Oh god... I don't know if my heart will be able to handle it. But I'm gonna push through! Be on the watch for *****************************@gmail.com :) Have a good night/day!))

#Ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale/crowley #crowley/aziraphale #omegle #rp #roleplay #good omens

3 notes · View notes

not-a-space-alien · 7 years

Text

Exposed

Title: Exposed

Rating: Explicit/Mature

Word count: 3,000

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of sex, body horror, body horror, body horror

Summary: Heaven sends a little reminder about true natures.

On AO3

This work is also available in Chinese thanks to a wonderful volunteer translator :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711192

Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship had been changing.

It changed that first night they slept in the same bed. It had been the first night after the world had almost ended, and neither of them could bear to part. But Crowley had gotten into the habit of sleeping, so he’d simply crawled into bed and asked Aziraphale if he wanted to join him, which he had. Aziraphale made a show of saying he was going to read while Crowley slept, but when the demon woke up the next morning the angel was sprawled out with his mouth hanging open, snoring more loudly than Crowley himself ever had. So much for being ever-vigilant.

They had slept in the same bed in the past, occasionally, when space or circumstances made it necessary. But this felt different. It was a step up.

Without consciously agreeing to it, they slept in the same bed the next night. And the next. They alternated between Crowley’s flat and the upstairs apartment in Aziraphale’s shop. It became a habit. It seemed natural. And in the same way they slipped into something else when they woke up to find that not only were they cuddling, but neither of them really minded it, and would in fact prefer to stay that way for a few more minutes before disengaging.

Things progressed from “accidentally” holding each other while half asleep to going to bed in each other’s arms. Aziraphale stubbornly insisted on pretending he was ostensibly using the bed as a comfortable place to read, but Crowley could tell he was not actually reading because he never turned the pages and sometimes the book was open but not in his line of sight.

Aziraphale gave that up eventually and put his book on the nightstand when Crowley crawled into bed beside him. His newly freed-up hands found places on Crowley’s body previously unexplored, at first staying on his chest, then moving gradually lower with each passing night. Crowley eventually switched from sleeping facing away from Aziraphale to sleeping facing him so he could reciprocate.

This, too, seemed natural. Enveloped in the dark, calm safety of a bedroom, with no sensation but the light breathing and warmth of the body next to them, it seemed like it would be natural to do anything together.

And they did. They started small and worked their way up, testing and laughing when they made embarrassing mistakes but getting it right most of the time and being so, so satisfied with the results.

Much was left unspoken between them. But their feelings were clear enough.

They were clear to each other, but they were also clear to an interested third party who had been watching this progression with a certain amount of disgust, waiting for the line to be crossed after which punishment was appropriate.

“Get that out of the way, would you?”

Crowley reached behind him and scooted over a potted plant he had left in Aziraphale’s shop. This made room for his arse as Aziraphale pushed him against the counter, kissing him deeply with his arms firmly around him, leaning him back. Crowley returned the kisses hungrily, his fingers working at the hem of Aziraphale’s ugly jumper, eager to begin.

“Go ahead,” said Aziraphale, and Crowley ripped the jumper off, impatient to get it out of his sight. He attacked that horrendous tie next, unraveling it while Aziraphale’s hands worked at Crowley’s expensive trousers.

Clothing was one of the things they had never been able to see eye-to-eye on, but luckily it played no part in their plans.

“Upstairs,” said Aziraphale simply when it became obvious they could not continue where they were, in view of the shop window. He made sure the door was locked while Crowley scampered upstairs, shedding his coat and shirt on the banister.

He hopped up onto the bed in just his trousers, and Aziraphale came in behind him, shutting the door, pulling them into that bubble of safety and comfort once again.

They continued on the bed. Crowley lay back, and Aziraphale straddled him, leaning over to kiss him greedily. Crowley struggled to get Aziraphale’s shirt off while the angel did not cooperate, focusing instead on running his hands down Crowley’s body. He elicited a delicious curve of the spine and a sharp intake of breath when his hands reached the small of Crowley’s back, and he used the space to cup his arse.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

“You’re so beautiful,” said Aziraphale, lowering himself to murmur it in Crowley’s collarbone.

Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s hair. “I dunno, my body’s a bit funny-looking compared to yours.”

“I love everything about you,” began Aziraphale. He planted a kiss on top of his head. “Your dark hair.” Another on his forehead. “Your magnificent brain.” Another on the bridge of his nose. “Your cute little nose.” A full-on kiss on the lips. It was a few minutes before they pulled apart so he could say, “Your absolutely delightful and kissable lips.”

He moved down to Crowley’s shoulder. “Your collarbone, right here.” Lower. “Your tummy.”

“Tummy,” Crowley repeated.

Aziraphale snorted a little. “Is that not dignified enough?”

Crowley raised himself up, hips grinding against Aziraphale, pressing his erection against him. Aziraphale let out a small noise.

“Nothing about this is dignified,” Crowley answered. “And that’s why we love it.”

Aziraphale, shaking with barely suppressed desire, tugged Crowley’s trousers down. Crowley returned the favour. The pants came off next; then they lay there completely naked and tangled in each other’s limbs, Crowley’s legs wrapped around Aziraphale’s hips and his arms around his shoulders.

“Do you want to do it this time?” said Aziraphale. “Like we talked about?”

“Yes,” said Crowley. “Put it in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want to also.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Blast!” said Aziraphale. “All right, let’s do it.”

“Hold on,” said Crowley. “This is my first time, so we should…”

“Should what?”

“I don’t know. What did we say we were going to do again?”

“Safety.”

“Right.”

Aziraphale held his hand up and materialized a condom in-between his fingers. “Is this good?”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale lowered it to try and open it, but Crowley snatched it from him and tore it open. Aziraphale resumed kissing him while Crowley unrolled it onto Aziraphale’s erection. Aziraphale suspected Crowley was taking his time on purpose, lingering on his shaft with those torturous fingertips.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed when he could take the teasing no longer. Crowley let out a devilish giggle and finally finished up. He lay back, and Aziraphale positioned himself between Crowley’s legs.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Crowley bit his lip to keep from crying out as the penetration happened. Aziraphale pushed all the way in, barely able to suppress a moan of his own. They stayed like that for a moment, Crowley’s thighs squeezing Aziraphale’s hips, his hands frantically grabbing Aziraphale’s shoulders, and Aziraphale’s hands planted on either side of Crowley. Aziraphale lowered himself down to kiss him once again.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” Crowley breathed.

Aziraphale gave a few experimental thrusts, withdrawing and pushing back in with small bucks of his hips. Crowley let out a new and different sound each time, in the throes of pleasure. His hand found Aziraphale’s and guided it to his own cock. Aziraphale obligingly wrapped his hand around Crowley’s length, but he got revenge for Crowley’s teasing earlier by only making small movements, squeezing it.

“Oh,” said Crowley. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes, trying to maintain some sense of dignity and suppress the sounds, but the heat and tightness was too much for him.

There was suddenly a change in the sensations. The warmth was replaced by something cool, and the pressure lessened as though Crowley’s flesh were becoming less coherent somehow, and something was wiggling against him through the condom. Simultaneously, a sharp pain lanced through his hands.

Aziraphale’s eyes flew open. He was lying on top of something dreadful. His cock was buried in rotting flesh swarming with maggots and roaches and crawling insects. A bloated tail patterned with diseased scales was squeezing his midsection, and the arms wrapped around him felt clammy and wet. White pus and black ooze squelched against midsection, festering decay alternating with patches of spines pricking him. Aziraphale’s hands were wrapped around some appendage thornier than a cactus, needles sunk into his skin all the way up to the base.

And the face. Oh, God, the face.

Never in 6,000 years had Aziraphale ever had an erection wilt as fast as his did now. Aziraphale pulled away immediately. The monster in the bed with him flailed, letting out inhuman sounds, raking tracks in the mattress with its claws.

Aziraphale could not suppress the cry of distress that welled up in his throat. Crowley’s bestial eyes flashed on him.

The demon dissolved with a shriek, exploding into maggots and flies that flowed away in every direction almost instantaneously. They disappeared through the floorboards, the cracked window, under the door, and between the ceiling tiles.

Aziraphale lifted his hands, dismayed. Blood welled from the cuts in his hands and streamed down his forearms. He cursed.

“Crowley?”

When he did not get a response, he went to the loo, holding his bloodied hands upright, trying not to get blood on the floor.

He flicked the light on with a miracle. Red droplets dripped into the sink as he turned the water on, trying to wash the cuts out.

He cursed as he felt something writhing near his groin. He looked down to see a few maggots were still writhing on the condom, and he tore it off, brushing himself off with repulsion.

“You disgusting little creatures!” he said, stomping on one.

He went back to washing his hands, trying desperately to clean himself off, trying to wash that revolting feeling off himself. He healed his hands with a miracle, unable to bear it any longer. Then he jumped in the shower, steaming hot water scalding him, but he stood under it for a solid five minutes until his skin was bright red, anything to flush that memory out of his mind.

He shut the water off. And then he stood there in the billowing steam with his arms around himself.

Aziraphale’s answering machine kicked on without the phone even ringing first. “Hello? Aziraphale? This is Gabriel.”

Aziraphale let water drip off from his hair.

“Did you like that?” said Gabriel. “You seemed to be getting quite cozy with your adversary, so we thought it might be a good idea to give you a little reminder about his true nature.”

Aziraphale tensed up.

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice, Aziraphale? It’s one thing to fudge your paperwork a bit to make it look like you’re doing more work than you are, but surely you must have realized we would take note of this. That you were using a demon as your personal whore. I thought that his human form was probably what was making him palatable to you, so I took it upon myself to remove it so you could see the real him.”

“Stop it,” said Aziraphale sorrowfully.

“I think I’ve made myself plenty clear,” said Gabriel. “And I won’t iterate this any further. Goodbye, Aziraphale. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

The machine clicked off. Aziraphale stood in the shower as the steam dissipated.

“How dare you?” said Aziraphale. “What gives you the right?”

Aziraphale stepped out of the shower, getting angry. He was angry at Gabriel. But he was also angry at himself.

His eyes fell to the maggots he had smashed earlier, now lying motionless on the floor.

And then he knew what he needed to do to stick it to Gabriel. He did not really want to do it. But he could imagine what Crowley was feeling right now, and he knew it needed to be done.

Aziraphale guessed that Crowley would have gone back to his flat, and the maggots on the doorknob of his front door in Mayfair confirmed that. Aziraphale brushed them off and let himself in without asking.

A trail of dead flies and still-twitching cockroaches led from the front door into the bedroom. Aziraphale braced himself and made his way over. He miracled the bedroom door open and peeked inside.

There was a lumpy shape trembling under the covers, odd spines poking up here and there. A forked tail had been hanging down from under the duvet, but when Aziraphale opened the door and let light into the room, it withdrew from sight.

“Crowley?”

“Go away,” said Crowley’s voice. His voice was warped now, deeper, gravelly, and halting as though he were speaking with a mouthful of broken teeth.

Contrary to instructions, Aziraphale came inside and shut the door behind him. He fingered the knob idly, trying to decide how to start.

“Crowley,” he said again, softer this time.

A cockroach crawled out from under the duvet. Aziraphale forced himself to ignore it.

“I can’t remember how to change back,” said Crowley. “I was always afraid of this happening.”

Aziraphale walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

Crowley shied away. “We both know you don’t want to see me like this, so just get out of here until I’m acceptable again, all right?”

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale, fingers hovering at the edge of the duvet. “Come on. I’ve seen you like this before, remember?”

Aziraphale pulled the duvet back a little bit, exposing a pair of yellow eyes set in a head with horns spiraling out from clammy, decayed skin. In lieu of tears, black goo oozed from his eyes down his cheeks.

“Don’t try and coddle me, Aziraphale,” said Crowley, hunkering down. “I can’t even cry properly like this.”

Aziraphale swallowed and reached out, cupping his cheek—or at least, what he guessed was his cheek based on the relative position of his eyes. He wiped the tar from his cheek with his thumb.

“You’re always acceptable to me,” said Aziraphale. “Because I love you for the things we share together. For the way you really are, deep down.”

“This is how I am deep down,” Crowley hissed angrily. “No matter how I dress myself or how many flats I live in or what kind of alcohol I drink or however many humans or angels I befriend or bloody apocalypses I try to stop—” His voice cracked. “It doesn’t change what I am. I’ll never be anything other than a disgusting beast that others want to crush under their heel. I’ll never be like you or the humans.”

Aziraphale reached out and touched Crowley’s horns, caressing his hair.

“Stop it!” Crowley cried, jerking his head away from him. “Stop pretending like it’s all right! I know you’re repulsed by me! Humans walk around with their free will, touching each other and liking each other and I was a fool for thinking I could ever have that. I’ll never have anything like that. I’m no different than Hastur is.”

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “You can have me. Would that be so bad?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to be human or angel, Crowley. You can just be what you are—without shame or guilt.”

The duvet fell down as Crowley reared up. “No shame? Are you serious? Look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me you like me like this.”

Aziraphale braced himself, wrote the outfit he was wearing off as a loss, and crushed Crowley in a hug.

He felt something seeping into his shirt as he did so, but he didn’t dare look down to see what it was. He also felt insects squirming on his arms, but he endured it.

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s deformed body relax in his arms, then begin to shake with silent sobs.

“It’s all right,” said Aziraphale. He drew back to see that Crowley’s eyes were leaking black ooze again. He tried to wipe it off with his sleeve.

Crowley let out a choked laugh and said, “Looks like I finally found something that will make you not want to wear that horrible outfit again.”

Aziraphale stood and faced Crowley, taking his jumper off.

Aziraphale’s true form was normally quite large, but he forced it to manifest small enough that he would still fit in the room. His body vanished, leaving a figure glowing faintly, one with four different faces and hoofed legs. Crowley watched with blurred vision.

Aziraphale folded his strangely bent legs to kneel by the bed. His lion’s mouth brushed lightly against Crowley’s shoulder.

“We aren’t human,” said Aziraphale gently, his voice reverberating softly. “There’s no point in trying to pretend that we are, no matter how much we love this planet. You’ll cause yourself nothing but misery trying to be something you aren’t, Crowley. You are a demon, and you always will be. But what makes you different from someone like Hastur isn’t your body or your appearance. It’s your heart.”

Aziraphale’s oxen nose brushed Crowley’s head. “I love everything about you. I love your stringy hair.” He nosed at his horns next. “I love your horns.” He moved on to Crowley’s cheek. It took all his willpower to touch it, but he did it. “I love your face. I love your nose and your yellow eyes.” He nosed his shoulder, carefully. “And I think I can even love all the spines and pointy things all over you. The point is I love you, Crowley. However you are.”

Crowley threw his arms around Aziraphale, burying his face in his chest. Aziraphale returned the gesture, this time getting muck and bugs all over his true form.

“Come on,” said Aziraphale. “We don’t need to be so overdramatic.”

“Sorry,” said Crowley, sniffling.

Aziraphale lumbered up onto the bed, curling up around Crowley. “Why don’t we go to sleep like we usually do, hm?” said Aziraphale.

Crowley balled up in Aziraphale’s flank, wrapping his tail around himself. Aziraphale draped his wings over them both, all six pairs, and they remained like that in their tent of safety and comfort until they were good and ready to face the world again.

Now with an illustration owo

#good omens #fanfic #my writing #my good omens fanfic

31 notes · View notes