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“Look at this. They're opening a new pub tonight. Wanna go?” asked Crowley, handing his phone to the Angel, who gave a quick look at the screen and then said:
“Why?”
“What do you mean 'why'? To do something else instead of lounging here all day. To live a little! It's not like we have something to do, anyway.” he explained, while scrolling down the web page.
“I have books to read, and other books to catalog, and others that are in need of some maintenance...” Aziraphele tried to protest, but the Demon was not listening to him.
“Look: free drinks!” he exclaimed, turning his phone toward the Angel for the second time, a big grin on his face “You can't say no to free drinks! Who in his right mind would do that?” he said, disgusted at the thought.
“You could miracle them here, you know.” pointed out Aziraphele.
“But it's not the same!”
“It's alcohol, Crowley, not a chef's dish. It won't make any difference.”
“You'd better not talk like this when you're in the company of those who produce it. Anger plus alcohol is not a good combination. Really, I'm saving your life here, Angel.” he advised, lowering his glasses a bit on the nose and looking at him directly in the eyes.
“I know. I would never do that! Think about all the paperwork!” he said, while trying to imagine how he could explain to Gabriel why his corpse had been found in a container directed to America, beaten up, bound and naked. He really hoped the archangel didn't read that book he gave him about pornography.
He came to himself again when he heard Crowley speaking again.
“Come on! Your books will still be here at your return.”
Aziraphele looked around his bookshop and a melancholy smile appeared on his face.
“Last time I went away, a fire destroyed all of this.” he said, spreading his arms wide to indicate all his belongings.
“Well, that time Satan himself decided to come to Earth. I doubt it will happen again so soon.”
Seeing that his words had not completely calmed his friend's fears, he added: “Nothing will happen.”
He didn't add 'I promise' because 1) demons don't make promises; 2) it was already clear in his tone that he meant it as such.
“So, what do you say?”
Aziraphale stood up and went to pick up the jacket he left on the back of the sofa.
“Ok. But at one condition.” he warned.
“Shoot it.” said the Demon, with resignation in his voice.
“We don't take the Bentley.”
At hearing those words, Crowley jumped out of the sofa.
“What!? Why not?”
“You know the reason.”
“And how do you plan to get to the pub, then?”
“Very simple.” said the Angel beaming “We walk!”
Aziraphale rushed down the stairs without waiting for Crowley's response.
“It will take half an hour!” the Demon shouted after the white figure moving away from him.
“Coming, my dear?” came an angelic voice from downstairs.
So Crowley followed him 1) because he wanted to go out; 2) because now he really needed those free drinks; 3) (but this better remain in his brain's most hidden part) because he could not say no to the Angel when he called him 'dear'.
When they arrived at the pub, it was already packed. They entered through the door and immediately were welcomed by the rumor of chatter, music (which neither of them liked) and a lot of smooching. Aziraphale looked around and sniffed, then smiled fondly.
“Do you smell this? It's love. This place is loved.”
“Obviously.” said the Demon ironically, glaring at the people and starting to walk towards the bar counter.
“Wait for me!” the Angel said out loud, hoping to be heard over all that noise. He felt a little out of place, walking with his back straight and rubbing his hands nervously. He looked at Crowley, pacing right in front of him, without anyone crossing his path, assured, his arms relaxed and his hips swaying right and left, right and left, right and left, right and... Aziraphale thanked the man who bumped into him, or he would have been hypnotized.
“Come on, Angel. You owe me two drinks at least.” said the Demon when Aziraphale had finally been able to reach him.
“What? Why?” he asked innocently.
“Because of that damn dog!” hissed Crowley “I can still feel his piss pouring along my leg. And that terrible smell...”
“But he'd hold back his pee for so long... Poor little thing.”
“He could have chosen a pole or a hydrant like every other dog!”
“It's not his fault if when he saw you he became so excited!” Aziraphale blurted out “Who would not be happy to see you?”
Crowley's tongue seemed to have knotted, because for some seconds he could not speak one single word.
“I'd say everyone on earth, except maybe Sergeant Shadwell. But I don't know if he really counts, since that's the case only because I pay him.” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders. It wasn't to mask his sadness; he really didn't care if people liked him or not. The only one whose opinion he was interested in was Aziraphale, and he was not mere 'people'.
“And me.” said the Angel softly, grabbing his forearm and squeezing lightly.
Crowley tried to ignore the pleasure that those two words and that little, simple gesture caused in him – which was kind of impossible when the one touching you was also looking at you with those blue, sweet eyes like he really meant what he'd just said. Which was probably the truth, being Aziraphale the most tolerant person he knew and also the most lovable and loving one.
“Bartender!” said Crowley aloud, signaling the woman wearing a black apron “Two...” he took some seconds to read the little board placed at the back of the counter listing the drinks “Let's begin with the first one: Apple Crisp.”
“It'll arrive immediately.” beamed the barista.
“What's in that one?” asked the Angel, who was now laying against the counter, his hands on its edge. The pub was so packed he had to practically lean on Crowley if he wanted to stay with him and not be washed away by the flood of people coming and going.
“I have no idea, but that's not important since I plan to try all of them.” said the Demon.
“Isn't it a bit too much?” asked the Angel. He still remembered vividly that time – it had to be the late 60s – when the Demon had a little too much to drink (so much so that he didn't even remember how to detoxify himself) and ended up walking along the streets followed by hundreds of dancing trees (reals trees: long roots, bird nests, holes containing woodpeckers and squirrels swinging their tails included) and elephants (not real elephants, but elephant-shaped balloons. The circus had come into the city) flying in the air. No one took notice, in part because humans are like that and don't notice what's under their noses, in part because parades were starting to become rather popular during those years.
“Come on! The night is young. And we can always sober up if we need to.”
“Here they are!” announced the bartender. She presented them with two glasses containing an amber liquid “How do you prefer to pay?”
Aziraphale looked at Crowley with wide eyes, at the same time searching in his pockets for some money. There was none.
“I've nothing with me. You said they were free. Wait a minute and I'll m-”
Crowley grabbed the Angel by the nape and crushed their lips together. They stayed like that for a few seconds, then he let him go and addressed the bartender.
“Is this ok?”
“Of course.” she answered and left them at their drinks.
Aziraphale was still petrified. He didn't ask with words, but his astounded look was enough.
“You know that books are not the only things that can be read, right? It said in the announcement I showed you on my phone: 'One kiss, one drink'.”
In Aziraphale's defense, he had read something on Crowley's phone, though it was not the announcement he was referring to. He'd seen an ad about a well-known restaurant, one he'd visited a long time ago and he'd always desired to visit again. It wasn't his fault if the photos of those artistically served plates caught his attention more than some bold, red letters.
“Didn't you take a look around?” continued the Demon. “All couples – though I doubt more than half of them really are.”
“I thought they kissed because they loved each other.” said the Angel dejectedly.
“Nah.” said Crowley, shaking his hand and taking a long sip “What they love is alcohol. I can't blame them, really. This is quite good.” he noted, looking at the now half empty glass and shoving the rest of its content in his mouth. “Hurry up and finish your drink. I'm waiting here.”
Aziraphale took a sip. Yeah, it wasn't that bad. Nothing compared to a good bottle of wine, but he could get used to it.
In the meantime, Crowley was playing with his glass, grabbing its edge between two fingers and making it sway. When he saw the girl approaching them again, he took the opportunity to order their next round. By the time she came back with two more glasses, Aziraphale had managed to finish his first.
“Here they are: two Bésame. Same method of payment?”
While drinking, Aziraphale had put some thought regarding the kissing process. He believed, like the true romantic he was, that they had to be given only to the person with whom one was in love. It was true, though, that humans could choose: that's the gift God had given them. So, if they wanted to throw kisses left and right, that was in their right. But that was not the important part. What was really occupying his mind was the fact that Crowley seemed to regard kisses in the same way, using them as trade goods and nothing more. He didn't really believe he could make him change his mind, but at least he could show him the difference between a kiss given just to play (or in this case 'just to pay'), and a kiss with real meaning into it.
“Something on your mind, Angel?”
Aziraphale turned towards Crowley, grabbed his head, gently stroking his cheeks, and leaned in.
Crowley immediately sensed that something was different. The Angel's lips were touching his own so lightly that it was like being kissed by a wind blow. He tried to press more firmly, but the Angel withdrew slightly and kept cherishing his lips in that way which Crowley felt was not enough and at the same time exactly like he would have expected a kiss by Aziraphale to be: gentle, delicate, incredibly sweet. When the Angel withdrew completely, the Demon tried to follow him, but the hand pressing on his chest stopped him.
“Payment accepted.” announced the bartender, before going serving another costumer.
“You said I had to offer you a couple of drinks, did you not?” said Aziraphale, trying to sound casual “This is the first one.”
Crowley drank his beverage like a man lost for days in a desert would drink from a bottle of cold water. He felt exactly like that man: hot and thirsty; though probably not for the same reason. His own had a name, a pair of rosy cheeks and was so silly to think that a kiss like that would have no repercussions.
Aziraphale, too, seemed quite in a hurry to empty his glass. His reasons were two: the first being that he was so sure his face had become completely red, that he hoped to use the glass to cover as much of it as he could; the second being that he wasn't sure his message had been received, and he had to try again as soon as possible and be sure of it. As an Angel, he had to spread love, or at least teach some of it. That the receptor of his teachings was a Demon didn't make any difference to his job. That in this case the receptor was THAT particular Demon, it made all the difference to him.
Crowley needed only to raise his hand for the girl to come back to him with two Sweet Meat Cocktails.
A very appropriate name, thought vaguely Crowley, for Aziraphale's lips seemed to have become even more sugary than before. It had to be because of their previous drink and all that fruit. It did nothing to placate Crowley; in fact, it did quite the opposite. Like a child with his candy, the Demon sucked the Angel's lips over and over, but not with too much fervor: he wanted to savor them.
After they broke away, the Demon left one arm around the Angel's hips. He didn't realize he'd done it until the Angel had turned towards the counter to pick up his glass. Since it was already there, there was no reason to move it, right?
“Look, there are two free places.” Aziraphale said, pointing to a free couch. He had really hoped to find a place where he could at least move without risking hitting another customer with his elbow.
Immediately a passage appeared in the middle of the room and the Angel and the Demon walked safely to their seats.
“Thank you.” said Aziraphale, knowing that a little miracle had just happened. It reminded him of that time Moses parted the Red Sea. He'd stayed with him and his people until they'd reached the desert, then left. He could not bear seeing all those people eat the same thing – not even so tasty – over and over again. That same day he'd come back in Egypt and gone to eat in a tavern of which he'd become by then a loyal customer.
“I know you don't like to stain your jacket. It would have surely happened otherwise.”
Aziraphale was moved by that little gesture and it showed in his eyes, which sparkled with gratitude.
“Don't look at me like that, it was nothing.” said Crowley, turning his face away from the Angel and leaning against the couch's back, his legs crossed.
To thank him properly, the Angel raised his hand and signed to the bartender. It wasn't difficult for her to spot him: he was the only one wearing white clothes, not to mention his hair. He was practically a beaming signal.
She brought them their fourth beverage. She'd learned by then that they wanted to scroll down the drink's list, so she offered them two Black Magic.
“Oh, look! A maraschino cherry!” said Aziraphale, picking up the one floating on the surface of his drink and putting it in his mouth.
“You have to pay before you can have your drinks. It's the rule.” pointed out the girl.
“Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. It was so inviting I couldn't resist!”
Aziraphale licked his fingers clean and turned towards Crowley, who was eyeing him with a strange expression on his face, one the Angel had never seen. Before he could ponder it more deeply, and even before he could lower his hand, Crowley grabbed his wrist. He brought the Angel's hand towards his mouth and laid on index and thumb a little kiss; then he let it go and once again crushed their lips together.
Repeating the same gesture over and over should've gotten boring, but Crowley found that kissing Aziraphale only became more and more interesting at every new touch. Maybe because of the Angel's reactions, the way he could not control the blush spreading over his face or the way he grabbed at the lapels of his jacket, with trembling, insecure hands. Or the taste, always changing, depending on what drink they'd just savored. It made him want to make Aziraphale try every beverage and every food on earth, just to see what the Angel would taste like.
When he let him go, the girl was already gone.
“I have to go to the bathroom. After three drinks...” said Aziraphele standing up.
“You don't really have to. Just make it go away.” protested Crowley, who didn't want to part from the Angel. He was literally falling under his spell. But it was a gentle way of falling.
“You go to sleep, I go to the bathroom.”
When put like that, he had nothing to reply.
Again the sea of people opened, creating a passage that connected their table to the loo.
Crowley took a sip from his glass. He observed the Angel. He was walking cautiously but firmly, his long jacket swinging and drawing white waves around his legs. He took another sip. Maybe he was starting to feel a bit inebriated, because he found himself thinking about brown waistcoats and white shirts... He shook his head. When he looked again, the Angel was returning, satisfied and much calmer than when he left.
Aziraphale resumed his seat near Crowley, their knees brushing. Neither of them pointed out how much space there was on the couch.
“Hey guys.” the brown-haired man sitting in the couch near theirs called out “Hey, I'm talking to you.”
“What?” answered the Demon, more than a bit annoyed.
“Crowley, don't be so impolite.” the Angel chastised him; then he shifted his attention on the other man.
He noticed his movements were similar to Crowley's, but at the same time they were quite different. The Demon moved in such a fluid way that his every gesture came out natural, elegant, enticing; the other guy instead had the grace of a bear. To be honest, Aziraphale had once seen a bear who was more well-mannered than the man. It had been in that circus in the late 60s we've already mentioned before: it wore a napkin, could sit up straight and even eat out of a plate without dirtying himself too much – an operation the man could not perform, judging by his stained shirt. Aziraphale corrected his initial statement in 'the grace of a bear without a napkin on', to not offend the well-mannered animal.
“You don't have to kiss every time you want a drink. You can have two!”
Crowley wasn't really interested in what that fellow was saying. To him, he seemed one of those vendors that first told you everything their product had good to offer, then they sold it to you, and only after you've given them the money they told you all the bad things – which are more or less twice the good ones. He was sure it was one of Hell's teachings.
He didn't give him much attention.
“You just have to use your tongue. Sure, it's a bit disgusting, but at least you have to do it half the times.”
“Thank you for your advice. We'll keep it in mind.” answered Aziraphale, always gentle, always polite.
“Do not pay attention to him.” Crowley warned him “He's probably making fun of us.”
“Who knows. He seems honest to me.” he said shrugging.
“You believed me when I said I would have left you.”
Silence fell.
“Was it a lie?” asked innocently and cautiously the Angel.
“Do you really need to ask?” Crowley asked in return, a bit exasperated.
“Well, you love Alpha Centauri and I know you've wanted to go there for a long time now.”
“Yeah... Lots of planets, nice weather, beautiful landscapes.” he picked up the maraschino cherries in his drink and put them in Aziraphale's glass, then took a sip “It would've been boring without you there, though. I mean, whom would I have bickered with?”
And with whom would he have spent all those free hours drinking, with whom would he have taken long walks in the garden, talked, laughed, danced (it had happened ONE time, only ONCE. Aziraphale had been so kind not to point it out, but Crowley knew he'd been really bad at it and swore not to dance the gavotte ever again. The fact that he tumbled, dragging down the Angel with him, might have something to do with his decision)?
“Oh, I'm sure you would have found someone else. I heard there's a planet where people do nothing but quarrel; it's frowned upon if you don't end up in a fight at least once a week. Though maybe that would be a little too violent even for you.”
“If I wanted that, I'd have stayed in Hell.” grumbled Crowley. He liked the Angel's innocence, but he could be really thick-headed sometimes.
“So, about that kiss thing...” started Aziraphale, who'd seen a frown appear on the Demon's face and thought that maybe a change of subject would have been for the best “Do you know anything about that? Have you seen something on your TV or phone?”
“I'm sure there's a lot about that in there, but I never looked it up. I prefer action movies and gardening sites. Isn't there anything about that in your books?”
“Yes, they're full of love stories and quite detailed descriptions, but one thing is reading, another is experiencing it. That's why I'm asking you.”
“What for? Do you think I walk around kissing humans? Please...” said Crowley, nauseated. He shoved the rest of his drink in his mouth, just to wash away the sour taste that thought had left on his tongue.
“Honestly, yes.” said the Angel, at the same time confused and quite relieved “You should have done exactly that if I had said no to you tonight and you had come here all by yourself.”
“But you said yes, did you not? Look.” he pointed at a couple a few meters from them. They were embraced and quite busy “I think that's what we're supposed to do.”
“Well, it doesn't seem that bad. Wait... maybe that part...”
“I don't think...”
“It seems a bit too rough to me.”
“What is he doing? Trying to eat her face!? That's fucking cannibalism!” said Crowley astonished.
“Well, she has a really sweet face.”
The Demon eyed the Angel. He didn't know if he was more horrified by the spectacle the couple was giving or by the Angel's words.
“Anyway, I'm not into cannibalism. Well, there was that time I went to a dinner party and it all looked and tasted delicious...”
It was time for Aziraphale to look at him. Crowley stopped talking. Not the right time for that, he reasoned.
“Look at them.”
Aziraphale pointed to another couple at their right. He was wearing a flowered shirt that the Angel found adorable, but when he told Crowley exactly that, the Demon snapped his fingers and made it vanish. It was a crime against style, he affirmed. Anyway, nor the man neither the woman noticed that; they kept on kissing and interlacing their tongues like they were made of rubber.
“Not really my thing,” said Aziraphale “But at least it seems more...” he stopped.
“What were you saying, Angel?”
“He's sucking it!”
“I think he would make an excellent vacuum cleaner.”
“Isn't she afraid he will rip it off!? It must hurt! I don't want to look.”
Aziraphale grabbed his glass. First he ate the cherries – Crowley made a mental note to always bring some of them when he visited the Angel from then on – and then drank the dark liquid.
“Well, we'll just have to do it our own way.” said the Demon “We've proved to be a good team. I'm sure we'll find a way to do it right. And if it won't count, we'll have one free round anyway. We've nothing to lose.”
He started to raise his hand, but the bartender was already there. He started to suspect she was watching them from afar. She had to, since she had their drinks on her tray and it was unlikely she could make them miraculously appear out of nowhere.
“Two Vertigo for you.” she said, putting them on the table.
“Thanks.” said the Angel.
“So, we're really gonna try it?” asked Crowley, completely ignoring the girl – he left the kind and polite manners to Aziraphale.
“I think so.” agreed the Angel “But you have to promise me something first.”
“Why do I always have to do something?” he answered. Both of them knew in that precise moment it simply meant 'Tell me what you want me to do and I'll most likely say yes'.
“You'll have to forgive the dog.”
“You're still thinking about that dog?”
Aziraphale kept looking at him, waiting.
“If it works, I'll do as if nothing had ever happened.” was his answer. As a Demon he could not make promises, but he felt that forgetting something altogether was something he could do.
It started like their second kiss had, with the Angel grabbing his face and oh so gently bringing their lips together. Crowley thought that he would have been able to recognize Aziraphale's kisses amongst all the others – if only he'd have tried to kiss someone else, which he would absolutely never have done anyway. Then the Angel started softly cherishing his lower lip, sucking on it and licking his way from one corner to the other. Crowley loved speed – his Bentley was the proof – but at that moment he started to understand why the Angel preferred to go slow. He would've let him do as he pleased for as long as he wanted if those were the results. Exactly while he was having these thoughts, though, the Angel's tongue went slightly upwards and the Demon automatically opened his mouth. They stayed like that for a quarter of a second, just inhaling each others breaths, then the Demon could resist temptation no more. They both felt dizzy when their tongues finally met. Aziraphale hardly hold back a whimper; Crowley groaned openly. The Demon could feel the sweet taste of the cherries though he never ate them, the slight sting left by the alcohol, and something else he could not identify: Aziraphale was delicious. He started to change his mind about cannibalism.
Aziraphale would have loved to go on kissing the Demon. It was like reading one of those long books so well written that were able to keep you awake at night and away from food. He was sure those lips would have been able to feed him like not even a perfectly prepared sushi could. But in all his want, he had forgotten something. That something was the annoying need his body had to breath.
He broke away from the kiss and laid his forehead on Crowley's shoulder, breathing heavily. He could feel the Demon's chest expanding and compressing in a fast rhythm. When he opened his eyes he noted he had grabbed the Demon's jacket without wanting to and made a mess of it.
“I'm so sorry!” he started to apologize, lifting his head and stopping when he felt a hand caressing his hair “I ruined it. Look at all these wrinkles!”
“You should see what happened to your hair. I think we're even.” said Crowley smiling. He was looking at the Angel with a lot of fondness in his eyes – which the object of his attention could not see, thanks to the glasses Crowley was wearing. Aziraphale sensed it anyway.
“Better mine than yours. You would have made a fuss out of it.” said the Angel affectionately.
“Who knows. I could forgive you if these were the circumstances.”
“Then I'll keep that in mind.” he replied, keeping caressing the Demon's jacket. He could not stop his hands.
It was a battle the Demon, too, was losing: he could not stop himself from stroking his fingers through those blond locks. He planned to lend the Angel his personal shampoo, to make them even smoother. Then he remembered he never lent his things, so he changed his plan: he'd wash the Angel's hair himself, to be sure it was done right.
“Don't come near me!” they heard the brown-haired man shouting “We've had only one round, we earned another one. There's no need for us to kiss again right now. And stop fondling my leg!”
“I don't understand what's all that fuss about. Now that I've tried it, I don't find it so disgusting.” said Crowley, before taking a sip out of his drink and making an ABSOLUTELY disgusted face.
“You don't like it.” noted the Angel “You always lift your upper lip and wrinkle your nose when you find something distasteful.”
“Instead you frown and a little wrinkle comes up right here, between your eyebrows.” said the Demon, touching that same spot with his index “It will start to show, you know, if you keep doing that.”
“You, too.” he retorted, tracing the Demon's nose “Maybe it's better if you don't drink that.”
“What? And leave a drink to waste? It would be a crime.” he said, taking another small sip and regretting it immediately.
“Maybe I could help you.” offered the Angel.
“And how do you intend to do it?”
“I could sweeten your pains.” he said, with a new glint in his eyes.
“Well, that sounds interesting...”
“Take another sip and maybe I'll show you.”
Crowley took a long swallow – like the guy had said: 'sure, it's a bit (a lot, he mentally corrected) disgusting, but at least you have to do it half the times (he planned on doing it two more times and end it for good)'. Right when he was going to make a face, the Angel pulled him to himself and crushed their lips together. They stayed like that until Aziraphale did not remove every trace of the drink's flavor from the Demon's mouth.
Crowley was still holding his glass and when the Angel let him go, he immediately drank again.
The Angel took that gesture like a rejection, as if the Demon wanted to wash away the feel of the kiss with more alcohol.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-”
“I've just shoved half of this disgusting drink down my throat. It's been ten seconds already and I've not received my sugar pill yet. I'm in terrible pain here!” complained the Demon, laying his head on the back of the couch and placing a hand over his heart.
In the end Crowley didn't stick to his own plan. He drank the rest of his drink taking the smallest sips possible. He suffered a lot, but he found Aziraphale's cure compensated for it. He also offered to drink Aziraphale's if he didn't like it, but unfortunately the Angel found it suited his tastes, so the Demon let him finish it, contenting himself by laying a possessive arm around the Angel's shoulders and holding him close.
“Here's the second one. I know I'm late, but I saw you two, well, busy and I preferred not to disturb you.” announced the bartender “Two Liquid Lust.”
Neither Crowley, nor Aziraphale noticed her coming their way, the first too intent on hugging the Angel, the second too intent on enjoying the Demon's embrace.
“I don't want to be inopportune, but... I just wanted to say that it's really refreshing watching you two.” she blushed and hold out her hands, ashamed “I mean, I'm not spending all my time looking at what you're doing, I just... We did it to get publicity, and we got it. There's a lot of people here tonight. I knew it would be like this when I accepted this shift: all these pretended couples kissing just to get free drinks. I've seen so many fake kisses that I think I won't be able to watch any romantic movie for at least a month. That's why... I just wanted to thank you, for having shown me something authentic. Now I really have to go back or my boss will get mad.” she finished in a hurry, picking up her tray and rushing towards the counter.
“Is what she said true?” asked Aziraphale, laying his head on the Demon's shoulder. He didn't have the courage to look him in the eyes and wanted to relish every second of intimacy they were sharing, in case it was all doomed to end.
“What part?” asked back the Demon.
“The part where she talked about authenticity. We came here for the drinks, too, like everyone else.”
“I stopped being interested in them after the first one.” confessed the Demon.
“Well, you could have just said it. We could have gone home.”
“Yes, I could have.” agreed Crowley, picking up his glass and starting drinking as if nothing had happened.
“You still haven't answered.” pointed out Aziraphale.
“Oh, I think I did, even before you asked. Way before. It's not my fault you have your head in the clouds.”
Crowley removed his arm from around the Angel and stood up. He trembled. On the table his glass started to fill up.
“I'm going to have another one. Go home if you want.” he said, then started walking towards the counter.
“You have no money!” Aziraphale shouted after him.
Crowley simply lifted his arm in the air and showed the Angel a bunch of bills.
After having quickly sobered up, Aziraphale got up to follow, but among the crowd he lost sight of him. A girl tumbled against him and fell; he hastily helped her out and resumed his journey towards the counter, where he hoped his friend was. When he finally touched its edge and took a look around, though, he could not find him.
“Hey, darling.” a tall, blond girl approached him and put her hand on his cheek “Wanna get something to drink?”
“I'm sorry, I have no money.” he said smiling tentatively and eyeing the woman's outstretched limb, hoping she'd remove it soon. He didn't desire her touch and it made him uncomfortable.
“Neither do I. But we don't need it, that's the fun part.” she said laughing.
“Oh, dear-”
He felt someone grabbing him from behind, a lean arm laying over his shoulder and one hand resting possessively over his chest.
“Baby, find another one. This one is taken.” said Crowley, growling.
“Are you sure, sweetie?” she continued, ignoring the Demon and addressing the Angel.
“You'd better piss off while you still can.” Crowley threatened. He tightened his grip, pasting himself over the Angel's back and putting his head close to Aziraphale's “No one can touch these lips apart from me.”
Though inebriated, the girl was still enough coherent to understand it was better to let him go. He looked the red-headed man in the eyes and swore he saw something serpentine and dangerous behind the black glasses. She turned around and, without too much grace, got away quickly.
“You clashed with someone.” said Crowley. Aziraphale felt his voice reverberate against his back, his breath ghosting over his face.
“How do you know?”
The Demon used is free hand to point at a big stain on the Angel's waistcoat.
“Oh no! Not again!” whimpered the Angel.
Crowley inclined his head and blew away the spot. Aziraphale looked at it while it dissolved, immobilized.
“Be more careful.” the Demon admonished him, placing his hand on the Angel's hip. He felt the Angel tremble.
“Was it true?” asked Aziraphale.
“Not again.” whined Crowley.
“What you said just now, I mean. To that girl.”
Crowley lingered.
“What do you think?”
Aziraphale took some moments to ground himself, then said:
“I think we should go home.” when he sensed the Demon stepping away, he turned and put his arms around the Demon's hips “I think we entertained that kind bartender long enough.” he brought one hand to the Demon's hair and sank his fingers through the red locks “I think I'd like to verify if what you said before was the truth and I can mess up your hair without you getting mad.”
“I said it applied only in certain circumstances.”
“I think I'd like to replicate them. And I think” he stressed out, leaning in towards the Demon “that if you want something from me, you just have to ask. No more tricks, Crowley.” he finished affectionately.
“It worked, though.”
“Sure it did. But we could have spared the thirty minutes it took us to come here and right now we could be sitting on my sofa instead of standing in the middle of a pub.”
Crowley had to grudgingly agree with him.
“But there's something I wouldn't have discovered otherwise.” he stated, a mischievous grin on his face.
“To never order a Vertigo again?” the Angel tried to guess.
Crowley brought his hand to the Angel's mouth. Between two fingers he was holding a little, red sphere.
“That I love to kiss you after you've just eaten a maraschino cherry.”
He pressed it to the Angel's lips, who opened them and let the Demon deposit the fruit between his teeth. He chewed on it, its sweet flavor spreading over his tongue. He waited, but the Demon kept simply looking at him.
“What have I missed?” he asked confused.
“You have to promise me something.” countered the Demon.
The Angel smiled sheepishly.
“Is this your way to get revenge over the dog?”
“What dog?” said Crowley, looking up as if trying to recover a lost memory.
Aziraphale's eyes lit up with amusement.
“Is it for the long walk, then?”
“Mmm... Maybe a bit, yes.” confirmed Crowley, moving his head left and right like a metronome. “Anyway, will you promise me something or not?”
“Tell me what it is and I'll consider.” which both of them knew meant 'I need to be careful because I don't know what you could come up with, but I'm quite sure I'll end up doing it.'
Crowley leaned in, laying his forehead against the Aziraphale's.
“Don't ever call someone else 'dear'. That's for me only.”
“I think I can do that.” said Aziraphale, smiling even wider and sealing his promise by brushing their noses together “Now, if that was all, I think you should hurry. The flavor's nearly gone. You're wasting this opportunity.”
“You know one of the advantages of being an Angel and a Demon?” Crowley asked, just before brushing lightly his lips against Aziraphale's “It's that we can have all the cherries we want.”
By the end of the night, Aziraphale lost count of how many cherries he'd eaten.