sauntereddownward (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sauntereddownward) wrote2019-10-03 10:30 pm
sauntereddownward) wrote2019-10-03 10:30 pm
Aziraphale
Since that fateful morning in Aziraphale's shop...flat...bedroom...Crowley had decided he needed to really dive into this feelings thing headfirst. He went to the park and the shops and quaint little restaurants and he watched. Watched couples, mainly. He wasn't human but surely there might be something there he could understand.
He understood the looks, the smiles, the gentle touches. He could appreciate the affection. He could very much appreciate how nervous they all were. Well, not all. Some of the people were absolute predators and he could tell just by looking, but those people he looked straight past. That wasn't what he wanted to know.
Where Aziraphale might turn to books, Crowley liked something a bit more timely and he headed for the internet. He set up a Match.com account, but only learned there were a terrible lot of horny, awful men in the world. He went to r/Relationships and learned just how bloody dysfunctional They all were. It seemed no matter where he turned he only found out that this thing Humans lauded, wrote poetry and music about, talked about constantly seemed to be something not a single one of them had a grasp on.
And so he decided if he was going to learn anything about Love he was going to have to go to the Source. Or, well, close as he could get. He skipped his way into a church and found a priest. Surely His love would be understood in a place like this.
The sum total of what he learned was that the priest was an idiot and dancing his way into and out of the church was going to have him soaking his feet for a week.
At a loss, he retired to Aziraphale's book shop and draped himself in a comfortable chair. He let out a dying, pained moan and hung his head back until he had slithered down and nearly sideways in the chair.
"Angel!" he called. "I think I need some tea."
He understood the looks, the smiles, the gentle touches. He could appreciate the affection. He could very much appreciate how nervous they all were. Well, not all. Some of the people were absolute predators and he could tell just by looking, but those people he looked straight past. That wasn't what he wanted to know.
Where Aziraphale might turn to books, Crowley liked something a bit more timely and he headed for the internet. He set up a Match.com account, but only learned there were a terrible lot of horny, awful men in the world. He went to r/Relationships and learned just how bloody dysfunctional They all were. It seemed no matter where he turned he only found out that this thing Humans lauded, wrote poetry and music about, talked about constantly seemed to be something not a single one of them had a grasp on.
And so he decided if he was going to learn anything about Love he was going to have to go to the Source. Or, well, close as he could get. He skipped his way into a church and found a priest. Surely His love would be understood in a place like this.
The sum total of what he learned was that the priest was an idiot and dancing his way into and out of the church was going to have him soaking his feet for a week.
At a loss, he retired to Aziraphale's book shop and draped himself in a comfortable chair. He let out a dying, pained moan and hung his head back until he had slithered down and nearly sideways in the chair.
"Angel!" he called. "I think I need some tea."
no subject
"I'll tell you the awful truth, angel. I don't sleep with you. I lie there, against you. Why would I sleep and miss out on that?" he replied.
no subject
no subject
"Not in the least, he replied gently.
no subject
no subject
"Why do you say that?" he asked, slipping off his shirt and then wriggling out of his skin tight trousers so he could dress in the regrettable tartan pyjamas.
no subject
no subject
"I like watching you do a great many things, angel. You'd be surprised," he answered back as he pulled on the trousers and started to do up the buttons of the shirt.
no subject
no subject
"Like...reading. Watching the sun set. Like your face when I drive. And that face you make at me when you think I'm not looking," he answered.
no subject
no subject
"You make a face," Crowley confirmed with a nod.
no subject
no subject
"One might describe it like that," he replied.
no subject
no subject
"My glasses make it hard to see," he lied.
no subject
no subject
Crowley arched a brow and quirked his mouth.
"Bit of sass," he remarked. "Looks good on you, angel."
no subject
He was still standing there with the folded pajamas, not sure if he should strip down to put them on.
no subject
"I applaud you for owning up to your failures," Crowley teased dryly. "Are you just going to hold those? Or are you coming to bed?"
no subject
no subject
Crowley bounced on the bed a bit before rising and getting everything in order. He viciously beat his pillow into the fluffiest possible version of itself.
"You look ready enough," he said and crawled in under the covers.
no subject