Work Text:
“What are you doing here, angel?”
“Coming to see you.”
“But you said… “
“And you said you were sleeping until July, and here it is October!”
“After you said we couldn't see each other until this is over. And you told me on the phone ‘s not over.”
“And then you hung up on me and went back to sleep.”
“What else could I have done?"
“Not go back to sleep!”
“And then what? Binge-watch every episode of Golden Girls? Yell at plants until the plague goes away? Tried that in April. Didn’t work.”
“Well. I thought you might come to the bookshop.”
“The bookshop?! But you said the rules…”
“I haven’t come into contact with anyone for months, Crowley. The bookshop is closed, I haven’t been to restaurants or antique shops or anywhere. And you’ve certainly been self-isolating for more than long enough. Quite apart from the fact that we can’t contract or carry the virus anyway, if anyone qualifies to be a support bubble, it’s us.”
“What about that household mixing ban?”
“Well, I… it’s not in effect yet. And I thought…”
“What?”
“I thought, if it does go into effect, perhaps we should be one household before it happens.”
“Mfssk.”
“If… if you would like that, I mean.”
“‘Course I’d like it! You were the one who told me not to slither over.”
“You used to be better at taking my hints.”
“Ngh. Maybe you used to be better at giving hints.”
“Maybe… maybe we should stop talking in hints.”
“Was that a hint?”
“No. A suggestion.”
“Oh. ‘S a good one.”
...
“I… I got lonely. I wanted to see you.”
“That makes two of us. Hug?”
“Hug.”
...
“Now, I do believe you said something about a case of something drinkable?”
“Thought we said no more hinting.”