sauntereddownward | (no subject)

(no subject)

The next morning dawned, bright and fresh as the first dawn and every dawn thereafter. Crowley took note of the sunlight. There had been no sunlight in the basket, no need to rouse even a smidgen while he'd been trapped. But now the light indicated creation.

It wasn't enough to get him to open his eyes, but he did become quite aware that this was a bed. A delightfully comfortable bed, warm and soft, and the warmth that made the demon gravitate to it and ease in tight against it was solid and familiar and safe.

All he'd wanted since the day he'd watched Aziraphale leave.

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Crowley let go of the wheel and turned to fully face him.

The Bentley carried on. She knew the way home.

"Because, angel," he said. "Before I dozed off I thought if I was ever going to kiss you again, it would be comfortably in bed."

Some people weren't aware just how often the most Damning thing was the Truth.

Aziraphale's face immediately went slightly pink.

"Oh. I. Wondered if that was going to come up again."

"Hoping? Or dreading?" Crowley asked curiously.

"... scared," said Aziraphale, not quite looking at him.

"Of what?" Crowley asked, as if he wasn't near paralyzed with fear at the prospect as well

"I - I don't know," Aziraphale stammered. "All of it. What it is, what it means..."

"Don't choose fear, angel," Crowley said...as he took back over and the Bentley charged through traffic at breakneck speed.

Aziraphale wasn't sure what to say to that, but he kept sneaking glances at Crowley as they drove.

"Safe as houses," Crowley announced as the car came to an abrupt stop against the curb in front of the bookshop.

There was a chance Aziraphale's nerves might not agree.

Aziraphale did look as if his nerves were rather frayed as he climbed out of the car. "Why don't I make us some tea, my dear," he murmured as he let them into the shop.

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