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You looked like a muse
When we were young
And you were an amazing dancer
Be it the Boogie or the Chacha
-
To say that angels don’t dance is a rather complicated statement. Of course, Heaven already knew that Aziraphale had learned to dance the Gavotte in a discreet gentleman’s club, but what is usually forgotten is that the line states don’t and not can’t. To counter that, it has then been argued that angels don’t exactly feel compelled to “get their boogie on” but one must know that it goes much deeper than that.
So deep, that the memory had been repressed.
Maybe, for good reason.
-
There were three things that Raphael liked doing when he wasn’t out there creating nebulas and star systems. The first being spending whatever time he could spare with his first brothers and sisters (the Archangels) when they weren’t busy themselves doing God’s will. The second was tending to the lush gardens that were still in the beginning stages of creation.The third would be lounging and conversing with a curious angel who loved to catalogue (and guard) the books in Heaven.
“I rather like the idea of consuming something physical other than spiritual.” The angel with the blond curly hair remarked.
Raphael raised a brow.
“You mean like ingesting something rather than basking in the essence of her grace?” He questioned, tilting his head.
“Precisely that! You did mention that the Almighty had planned to create certain substances that her new creations would have to take in order to live, just as how we must always revel in her grace.”
Raphael looked at him thoughtfully.
“I suppose it is intriguing. Nice to know that whatever we’re making, it isn’t just to look pretty.”
The two looked up at the sky (or what would be perceived as the sky) when a succession of beats startled them. It was music, which was something they were very familiar with, but there was a certain rhythm to them. It was more engaging. More energetic. Unlike the hymns that the seraphim would usually sing, this one, for lack of a better term, had a beat. An infectious beat.
“Oh my, that’s quite different, isn’t it?” The blond angel remarked. His brows furrowed.
“What, don’t like it, Aziraphale?” Raphael’s lips quirked upwards. It was always fun to see the other angel so focused.
“I didn’t say that! But it is rather- oh look, Raphael! Look at those group of angels!” He exclaimed.
“Huh. Well that’s something you don’t see everyday.” Raphael said.
They didn’t know yet that what they were seeing would be called dancing, but what the Archangel knew was that whatever it was, it was something they would both be enjoying.
—
It wasn’t long before then that when there was a bit of a lull in the angelic atmosphere, the higher spheres would burst a new sound and the angels would hum and dance along with it. It wasn’t really a sort of rave party, but it did keep their spirits up.
“Goodness, I do love to dance, but I don’t think dancing loves me back.” Aziraphale laughed, tripping for the fifth time. He wasn’t a very good dancer but oh did he love to move his hips to the beat anyway.
“Nonsense, Aziraphale. I think you just need a bit more of practice.” Raphael grinned, his hand reaching down to pick him up. The other looked at him and smiled. He clasped Raphael's hand and stood up.
The Archangel was about to say something else when he felt a buzz enter his mind.
“Ah, drat. I've got to do some things again for her. You know, make more stars, more galaxies, the works.” He sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t like doing what was asked of him but he did hate being interrupted when he was with Aziraphale.
“It’s quite alright, love. I have to be going as well and carry on with the bookkeeping. 'Til then!” The Principality waved goodbye.
Raphael didn’t hear the rest. He felt frozen in place with a blush creeping his star studded cheeks.
“Did he just. Did he just call me, ‘love’?”
—
“For someone who says they’re rubbish with dancing, you’re dancing well on your own now.” Raphael mused, enjoying watching the other.
“Well you did say to get more practice!” The blond exclaimed, feeling a bubbling happiness at the praise the other gave him.
“Indeed you did.” Raphael grinned. “I have to leave in a bit, the Almighty’s doing stuff again.” The Archangel suddenly frowned. “I don’t really understand why she’s doing it though. I think I’ll ask her more about it.”
For some reason, the angel felt a pang of fear in his chest.
“Oh do be careful, my dear.” He said in a worried tone. “Best not to speculate too much.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just a few questions.” Raphael said. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Aziraphale nodded, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
—
“I love it when you dance that.” Raphael smiled, lounging at the garden. He watched Aziraphale sway his hips to a certain beat that was now often heard in Heaven.
“Oh thank you, dear! But you must know.” Aziraphale said. “I think this dance would be a tad much better if it were two dancing hand in hand.”
“Are you inviting me to dance with you?”
“Would you accept?”
Raphael looked at Aziraphale and suddenly he felt a little bit smaller which was ridiculous, considering how much taller he was than the Principality, both in size and status. Not that it mattered to the Archangel. The blond stretched his hand to the other.
“Won’t you have this dance with me?” A silent plea traced itself in the words.
He took his hand.
“Anything for you.”
—
“I think I’ll call this El Bimbo.”
“Any reason why you’re calling it that? What does that even mean?”
“I- I don’t know really. But then again, it rather suits it, my dear?”
The Archangel looked at him thoughtfully.
“Yes.” Raphael said. “I suppose it does.”
It becomes Raphael’s favourite dance.
—
Their fingers were entwined together, their bodies moving fluidily and following the music. It was a beautiful moment and they revelled in the peaceful yet joyful melody. Aziraphale placed his chin on Raphael’s shoulder as they moved to the beat of the sound.
“I think.” Raphael whispered. “I think this is my favourite now.”
“Oh do be careful my dear.” Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m not sure the Almighty would like to hear that.”
“Well it’s not like it’s a bad thing. Beings of love, right? There isn’t anything wrong with dancing with the one you love.”
A pause.
“You love me then?”
The two break off after that. Golden eyes stare back at powder blue.
“I- Is it. Is it bad? Sorry, I’m not really good with this-”
Aziraphale’s eyes softened.
“No my dear.” He squeezed the other's hands.
“It is most definitely not bad.”
—
He had no idea at the time what it was, but Aziraphale tasted sweeter than honey.
—
The next thing Heaven knew was that a number of angels were suddenly falling, their once pristine wings burning from the million-light-years dive.
They had been dancing again to that wonderful song when the pull of gravity hurled Raphael down. There were screams all around, but Aziraphale’s was the loudest.
For the first time, Raphael cried.
—
Aziraphale does not remember him when they meet again in the garden.
But Raphael, now Crowley, does.
—
“So demons.” Aziraphale hiccuped. They had been drinking for the past three hours and he could already feel his head go lighter. “You demons. Like to dance?” He said that as if it was the most scandalous thing he’d ever heard.
“Well yeah, but it isn’t like good dancing.” Crowley slurred, pouring himself another drink. “Especially Hastur. Poor sod thinks he’s Satan-given to dancing” He laughed.
“Hmm. Must be a demon thing?”
Crowley looked at him with a puzzled stare.
“What, you angels don’t dance?”
Aziraphale frowned at him.
“No, we don’t really do that. Can’t really see why we should. It isn’t as if Heaven engages in that certain act anyway.” Aziraphale said.
There was an indecipherable feeling that tinged itself in Crowley’s eyes.
“Yes. No point. Not like there’s good music there to dance to. Anyway, it’s getting late. I’ll be off now, yeah?”
Aziraphale shot him a confused look. It wasn’t particularly late but then again, the demon must have had something to do that downstairs management forced on him. They both winced as they felt the alcohol leaving their system.
“Right. Do take care of yourself, dear boy.” Aziraphale smiled warmly at him.
The demon's sadness was masked by a nonchalant wave.
He spent the rest of the night drowning in wine.
—
“Thought your lot didn’t dance.” Crowley raised a brow as he walked in on Aziraphale moving to the music that resounded throughout the bookshop.
“Oh good lord! You really ought to have knocked first.”
Crowley shrugged.
“So. You’re dancing?”
“Well, yes.” Aziraphale said. “I said that we don’t dance. Not that we can’t dance.” He huffed before looking at the other shyly.
“Why? Do you think I look rather foolish? Oh I do think I rather-”
“No.” Crowley interrupted him, his serpentine eyes gazing upon the angel’s blue ones. “You don’t look silly. It… It suits you. You dance well.”
Happiness bloomed in the angels’ heart.
“It’s strange. When I learned the gavotte, it may have taken some time, but I feel like I’ve done it before. Dancing I mean. Silly isn’t it?” He chuckled.
“Not really.” Crowley murmured. “I don’t think it is.”
—
His legs gave away as a strong gush of water burst itself onto his chest. It was odd. He wasn’t a good dancer but he wasn’t a bad one either so he thought he would have rather been more graceful when he fell on the scorched ground, the smell of soot permeating throughout the air as piles of books burned all around him.
His voice went hoarse from screaming to an unknown being as he felt tears stream down his cheeks.
He never got to tell him.
—
It was a few weeks after Armageddont and he found himself lounging on Aziraphale’s couch. All was peaceful, the other was reading a book while the other was sipping his wine. Aziraphale read enthusiastically when he started to hum a tune.
A tune that Crowley was all too familiar with.
He looked at the angel and saw that he had just continued to hum as if there wasn’t anything to it. Aziraphale felt eyes gazing upon him and so he turned to look at the other.
“Is there something strange, my love?”
Crowley suddenly snapped back from his trance and he shook his head.
“No. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Well do tell me if there’s anything wrong. You know you can always talk to me.” Aziraphale smiled. It was a loving smile. The smile that no matter how many times he’d seen, it would always make him weak in the knees. A smile that would always remind him of what had been before. The angel was about to get back to his reading when Crowley croaked.
“Dancing.”
Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look.
“What about dancing?”
“That song. The song you’re humming. You know it?”
“Oh this? Well it’s something that’s been stuck in my head for quite some time.” He closed his eyes. “Almost since we met, really.”
The demon’s heart suddenly beat a little faster.
“It does feel like it would be a nice tune to a dance, don’t you think?”
Crowley stared at him and started to laugh. A loud laugh that vibrated throughout the bookshop. Aziraphale, startled at first, didn’t quite understand but he started to laugh as well. They both laughed until they felt that they needed to breathe, even if they didn’t need to. Aziraphale chuckled again before he stood up to give a hand to the demon.
The demon gave him a questioning look.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Will you really keep me waiting?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley raised a brow until he realised what Aziraphale was asking of him. With trembling hands, he reached out to the other and stood up.
One hand slid down to the angel’s hips and the other keeping their hands entwined.
“Shall we?”
Crowley smiled, a smile that had not shown itself for a very, very long time.
Together, they hummed the tune, dancing happily to their song.
—
Aziraphale doesn’t remember.
Crowley remembers.
But with the music that escaped from the angel’s lips, he felt a dormant feeling of hope bloom in his chest.
It would take a long time to pick up all the fragments of memories that lay scattered, but they had an eternity to make it whole again.
For now, a sweet kiss, laced fingers, and a long forgotten song will do.
—
Our hands clasped together
Without us noticing
That you have taught my heart
How to truly love.