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A/N: Hello, people!
I don't own Good Omens.
I have no beta.
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It came out of nowhere to be honest. And when he said that he actually meant it this time. It was just another afternoon of sitting in Aziraphael’s shop, drinking extravagant alcohol, and making heart eyes at him, where his angel decided to just say it.
“I miss the 1800s.” His tone had been wistful surprisingly.
Crowley’s disgust could not be any more plain on his face. And with his sunglasses discarded… somewhere that wasn’t within immediate view, his expression was even more open than usual. “Good Lord, why?” Everything about the 1800s had been horrible. Well… almost everything.
Other than a few moments, in which Aziraphael was a centerpiece in all of them, the 19th century had been shite in every way something could be shite.
The angel fiddled with his glass of something that wasn’t what Crowley was drinking though he didn’t know what - it was alcoholic, that was what truly mattered - as he hadn’t paid enough attention beyond his own glass tasting fantastic. He swirled the pinkish liquid around before daringly slugging the entire glass back at once.
“Specifically I miss riding horseback,” Aziraphael said with a little, arrogant tilt of the chin and a look just daring Crowley to question him. It was a very familiar gesture.
And because Crowley was Crowley, he had to argue. Make his angel see sense! “You hated riding horseback! We both did. It was hell on the arse and legs. And for those of us without as much padding it was even worse for Go- Sa- for Someone’s sake!”
Quickly, almost too quickly for his eyes to keep up with, the angel’s face turned red, clashing terribly with his cream clothing and pale hair. And yet the look was one Crowley could stare at for an eternity, he was so smitten. “I didn’t say I missed it for the personal experience, my dear.”
“Then why miss it at all?” He didn’t get it. It wasn’t something worth missing. And it wasn’t as if it was missing these days anyway, it was just more for sport than constant travel.
A huff that was more adorable than it had the right to be. Aziraphael refused to even look at him as he answered, “If you must know, I liked watching you ride horses.”
Why would he like watching Crowley rid-
Oh.
“You cut quite the dashing figure and even though I thought it was wrong to, I enjoyed watching far too much. One of my best kept secrets if you never noticed how many times I looked you over unnecessarily, my dear.”
Crowley had just learned that his angel had spent a good portion of the past several hundred years checking him out whilst he was astride a horse. Pardon him if his brain needed a moment to catch up. “What was it that was doing it for you?” he had to ask, breathless despite not needing breath to begin with. He had to know!
Aziraphael flushed but looked him dead in the eye as he listed off, “The tightness of your breeches, your long legs- you have such lovely legs, dear. The way your long hair would whip about in the wind, and that regal air you’d always have as if everyone else was fortunate enough to be in your presence.” He sighed, a smile on his face as he reminisced about the past. “You’re so charming, just not in the way you want to be.”
What started off as something Aziraphael was embarrassed about, had ended with Crowley hiding his face in Aziraphael’s sofa cushions. His angel singing his praises wasn’t something he was ready for! They weren’t in the bedroom yet! Crowley’s praise kink hadn’t had enough time to recharge from last night where said angel whispered a never-ending list of things in his ear!
“Shall we adjourn to the bedroom, darling?”
Crowley managed a small, “Yeah,” - that absolutely not squeaky, he would deny it until his dying day - in response.
A/N: Finished!
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