#look paris aziraphale owns my heart i'm not sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dr-mizmix · 5 years

Text

More than art

(full fic with footnotes)

(without footnotes)

Crowley noticed something. Thought the last few decades some of his feathers had been falling. This was not a problem in the sense that in a few days he had brand new feathers replacing the once just lost but he'd never heard of such thing as a demon molting his wings.

At first, he thew them out of embarrassment but over the course of the years, he'd gotten into the practice of making pillows with them and for some uncomprehensible reason he really wanted to give one to Aziraphale. He thought of doing it in so many occasions, if he recalls correctly in each gifting occasion since it became a thing. Is just that, deep down he knows it's probably not socially acceptable to gift something like that.

But that wasn't the only thing he'd been doing. He wasn't aware of this but his apartment had become a treasure trove for mementos of his encounters with the angel.

He'd gotten into the habit of talking something from the places they met: a chair from the castle he worked on the kingdom of Wessex, an authentic Roman mosaic he placed next to his shower, the horn of the last unicorn, the eagle statue from the nazi church… He also retrieved books during his demonic assignments. His library was filled with rare first editions he knew Aziraphale would enjoy.

Each time he looked at them he couldn't help it but smile. A warm feeling invaded his body as if someone were giving him a hug.

Sometimes he would take some of his his homemade pillows and sleep on the Wessex chair. What was dreamt on the chair, stayed on the chair

Aziraphale always got flustered when he entered his flat. He felt good when that happened though the reason why was still unknown for both.

“I love what you've done with the plants, my dear” he proclaimed “Getting more sunlight does not only benefit your little garden but also adds to the overall atmosphere”

“You see, sometimes you have to be permissive to these little brats so they can reach their full potential”

“That could be said about your too, my dear”

“Hey” Crowley protested

Aziraphale giggled “You know what I mean”

The demon gave the angel a friendly punch as their eyes locked on each other. When these two supernatural beings touch, the greatest power explosion can be felt leaving the room filled with silence.

“Yeah so,your plants.” he cleared his throat “I believe they are contest worthy”

Crowley snapped “Don't say that it will get on their hands”

The angel laughed “I don't think they have heads. Nor ears. Nor brains”

“That's what they want you to think” he protested.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, finding a new teapot in the place where there used to be a blank and white photograph of Crowley hugging Bentley the day he bought it with the caption "Forever yours"

“Did you thow away that picture, dear?”

“Angel, Bently is the third thing I love the most in this world. I could never thow it away” Aziraphale looked down. 3rd thing he loves the most? Where does he rank on the list? “But I noticed you didn't like to have it around so I thought I might as well get a nice teapot so we can have fancy tea the proper way”

“I already have a teapot at the bookshop, is there anything wrong with it?”

“No no no. Of course there's nothing wrong with your teapot. Is just… Is nice having you around the flat” Aziraphale blushed “Don't you dare making a big deal out of this”

As a response the angel giggled “Why don't we put it to use?”

“Well of course”

Crowley gided Aziraphale to some kind of living room. He was about to sit down when…

“No! Don't use that chair” the angel seemed confused “I know you prefer things made by humans than the ones miracled into existence” He brought his red and golden chair “Here”

Crowley acomodated Aziraphale in his seat. “Isn't this Alfred the Great throne?”

“I didn't know it was a throne. But so I suppose. The only decent piece of furniture in all Kingdom of Wessex.”

“That's because it was made for a king to sit on it.”

“We can agree you're a tad bit holier than that”

“Dear, you perfectly know most kings weren't holy at all”

Crowley smirked pulling out his tongue “That's precisely why I am saying it”

He shook his head “You willy old serpent”

“I'm gonna go make the tea, as always feel free to make yourself at home”

Once he left the room Aziraphale's eyes examined the room. Crowley have done several changes since the last time he'd been there. He loved the way the demon decorated his apartment, it felt like all the places they've been together which always puts a smile on his face. His curious instinct lead him to explore the room. Examining the bookshelves he found one that particularly cough his attention: Aristotle book on Comedy.

The kettle whistled “Tea is ready!”

Without thinking it twice, in an impulse, he tried to grab it.

In the distance, Crowley shouted “No! Wait!” as the teaset dropped to the floor breaking into a million pieces.

The book returned to its original position but the bookshelf itself moved like a door unlocking a secret room that seemed to be an art studio with canvases of all shapes and sizes, oleic paints of all colors in the conceivable spectrum and each little thing he'd gifted the demon through the year displayed across pillars in top of what seemed likely homemade pillows. An in the center of the room a pillar slightly bigger that the rest with a tartan pillow displaying the book the was trying to get.

Scanning the room he realized the sketches and paintings on the wall were of him in the most beautiful places of the universe: smiling, contemplating the stars, flying…

It was the most beautiful thing Aziraphale had ever seen

“Crowley… ”

“You weren't supposed to see this.”

“Crowley this is… I'm speechless.”

“I'm so sorry, I know, I shouldn't have done this.”

“My dearest boy, what are you talking about?”

“No one has ever done something like this for me, this is beyond perfection. For it to be perfect it should have achieved some kind of standard but darling, my love, you just redefined what means to be loved for me.”

Crowley approached Aziraphale and cupped his face with his trembling hand “May I?” “Please.” the angel gasped.

Crowley closed his eyes with strength as he surrounded his Angel with his free arm behind his neck. He leaned kissing Aziraphale desperately with passion as if this was the last kiss ever allowed to be had before the end of the world. Aziraphale held Crowley's back as he replied immersed in the intensity of his feelings.

They kept on kissing for almost an hour exploring each corner of each other mouth with the passion and care that should be expected after 6000 years of mutual pinning. They felt how their heartbeats reached a speed never achieved for a human heart.

When they separated their lips they couldn't untangle from a hug. Aziraphale whispered “I should have known. You've told me so many times before. At the glove, in Paris, in my Bookshop, at the church…” “Yet you didn't need to say a word, how can you do it?”

Crowley pulled him closer “Because when I look at you and I see your eyes, your hair, Lord save me! Your sweet sweet smile, my entire body can't stop thinking about how much I love you”

Aziraphale's eyes filled with tears of passion “Oh Crowley, I love you too!”

Crowley smiled turning on a gramophone which for his delight started playing Earth Angel.

Aziraphale offered his hand and so they started dancing.

Earth angel, earth angel

Please be mine

My darling dear

Love you all the time

I'm just a fool

A fool in love with you-ou-ou

And so the angel and the demon kissed for the 2nd time in 6000 years. This time as they knew they had all the time in the world (and more since they averted the apocalypse) they kissed with a whole new different bunch of feelings. Tenderness replaced passion as the magic of forbidden romance invaded the air. And so they kissed and they kissed and they kissed each time giving the phrase I love you a whole new meaning for love wasn't enough to describe all the reasons why they were meant for each other.

“There's something I've wanted to give you, for a really long time.” he shyly handed Aziraphale the tartan pillow. His eyes glowed.

“You made this for me, my love?”

“Well yes the thing is…” He fidgeted nervous searching for the right words.

Aziraphale felt its softness “It's made of you…”

“Is it too weird?”

“My love, for how long have you been nesting?”

“Nesting?”

“My lovely boy, your flat. Look around.” he spinned around himself with open arms.

“I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“You know” he made a wing motion with his arms “like birds do.”

“Oh.Ohhhh. I didn't, I didn't do it on purpose”

The angel giggled “Of course you didn't”

The demon blushed as the angel placed his hand on his chin. He tilted his head pressing against the hand “I love you” The angel closed his eyes then smiled “And I love you too”

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