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Aziraphale was simply just trying to be nice, as he always was. Well, save Crowley, but there were several reasons for that; he was a demon and they had been together for so long that it didn’t really matter anymore. It’s hard to have relationship issues when you’ve spent the last six millennia together. Not mentioning the Apocalypse they averted together.
He was re-reading War and Peace for the fourth time in a windowsill in Crowley’s flat. The demon himself was cleaning in the other room, but when the angel had made a comment about “cleanliness is close to Godliness” the demon just stuck out his forked tongue and continued his work. Aziraphale set his book down with a sigh and felt a great sadness resting on the room. He searched for the source of its power, the origination of the depression. There were no other life forms in the room, save Crowley’s plants. But…
Aziraphale examined the plants, seeing if he could find the problem and fix it.
“Plants should not feel sad.” He wondered.
He put his fingers on either side of a leaf, and stroked it. The plant’s emotions seemed to rise and fall very quickly. The angel stroked the plant again,and it seemed to glow with happiness. This made him laugh.
“You’re cute.” Aziraphale stated aloud, petting the plant more.
Crowley walked in, expecting to find his angel still sitting in the window reading like he always was. Crowley never said it, but he liked it when the angel was reading. The way his glasses sat on the end of his nose, his eyes leisurely yet interestedly focused. How his body was still and tense just before an important moment or how he’d bite his thumb at a heartbreaking one. Crowley especially liked the way he’d hang around and not care what else anyone was doing, or how if a blond curl happened to fall into his face, he’d simply stare at it, and “miracle” it away instead of brushing it back and using a hand that could be holding a book. Not that he ever told the angel this,or anyone for that matter. That would get him nowhere but some trouble with the Below.
What Crowley did not expect was for Aziraphale to be... petting, petting? Petting his plants.
...What?
“Angel, what in whoever’s name are you doing?”
Aziraphale looked up and smiled. Damn his blessed face.
“I’m making your plants happy. Poor things were all sad and depressed. You should learn to take better care of your plants, Crowley. They need love and attention.” Crowley rolled his eyes.
“Oh please, angel. Spare me the-”
“I’ll name you Herald.”
This, for some reason made Crowley see red.
“Aziraphale, stop being nice to my plants! You'll spoil the sodding things and ruin all my work!"
"Work?"
"Over the years I've been conducting experiments on those plants to see if how much they fear me." Crowley explained. Aziraphale looked at the plants.
"That's horrible! No wonder why the poor things are so glum! Crowley, stop torturing plants!"
"Would you rather it be humans?"
"Wha-No! No, don't torture anyone!"
"Why, is torturing...bad?" Crowley teased. Aziraphale stared with an open mouth as the demon approached him seductively.
"I...yes. Yes, it is." The angel stuttered.
"But it's ineffable for a being of the Below such as myself to do bad, as it is a being of the Above such as yourself is ineffable to do good. Would you deny me my ineffable destiny to do bad?" Crowley put his hands on Aziraphale's wrists, feeling the fluctuating pulse.
"My dear, that is my duty." Aziraphale defended before Crowley pulled him into a kiss.
"I'm going to do bad, plants or no plants." Crowley muttered darkly.
"Oh, well then I assume that I must do whatever is within my power to stop you."
"Mm, you can try." Crowley licked his lips.
"Don't you try to tempt me, I know you, you old serpent." Aziraphale smirked. Crowley's tongue slipped out and licked Aziraphale's ear. "Crowley! Put your tongue back in your mouth!" Crowley did as he was told and looked expectantly at his angel. "Now put it in mine." Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's tie and pulled him into a deeper kiss.
"You are going to try and "good" me, won't you?"
"Yes I am."
"Having sex over a bloody plant." Crowley grumbled.
"Don't hurt Herald anymore." Aziraphale defended.
"Don't name my plant, angel."
"If you continue to abuse it, I will confiscate it, and it will be my plant."
"Oh, please, Aziraphale. Spare me. Tell it to the plants."
~fin~