Work Text:
The antichrist had been on earth for 24 hours.
While in London Soho, an angel and a demon had been drinking solidly for the last six of them.
Crowley spilled the last few drops from the wine bottle into his glass, leaning against a pillar in Aziraphale's bookshop. From his chair, Aziraphale spoke. “So what…what exactly is your point?”
“My point is,” Crowley burped as he shuffled over. “My point is…dolphins. That's ma point. Big brains, size of…” He paused for a moment as he flopped onto the couch across from Aziraphale, trying to come up with an analogy. As he took off his sunglasses, he gave up. “Damn big brains. It's not, not to mention the whales. Brain city, whales,”
Aziraphale immediately came up with another example. “Kraken. Oof, great big bugger,” He chuckled slightly as Crowley loudly sipped his wine. “Supposed to rise up to the surface, right…” He gestured upwards. “Right up at the end, when the sea boils,”
Crowley leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Wh- Y- That's ma point!” Aziraphale nodded slightly as Crowley went on. “Whole sea bubbling…the dolphins, the whales, everybody turning into boillibuh- buib- buibe- baby…” Crowley fought with his drunken lips that kept slurring his words, pushing them away from his mouth as he tried to regain control.
Aziraphale was pouring more wine into his glass, but paused in an attempt to help. He used Crowley's strategy in vain, only managing to push out a muffled “Boi…mh,”
⭒𓆙⭒
Crowley froze, realizing the situation he had put himself in. There he was, in an angel’s bookshop, making kissy faces at him as he sat only a few feet away. Oh, how he longed to close that short distance between them, to plant his pursed lips on Aziraphale's. He wanted to grab him by that silly tartan bowtie and kiss him until he couldn't breathe. He wanted to feel Aziraphale's curly white hair, soft between his fingers. He wanted to feel his warm embrace, to feel Aziraphale run his hands across his back and touch the base of his wings. He wanted to hold Aziraphale's face in his hands and gaze into his eyes, to explore the breathtaking galaxies within them. He wanted to-
Crowley's racing thoughts jolted to a stop as he was thrown back to reality. He couldn't. He couldn't. He would never be able to. The thought filled him with sorrow.
He could never view those gorgeous eyes close enough to see constellations. He could never feel the electrifying joy of his angel's loving touch. And he most certainly could never, ever kiss him. Crowley was a demon, the serpent of Eden! No angel could ever love a creature so vile. Not even his angel.
Crowley realized that Aziraphale had also frozen in place. A deep panic suddenly stabbed itself into Crowley’s gut. Had he heard everything? No, he breathed in relief. The wine Aziraphale was pouring had stopped in its tracks, hovering in the air above his glass.
Crowley took a deep breath, forcing the sting in his eyes to retreat and the sharp claw clutching his throat to release him. However, he couldn't convince the knot in his stomach and the feeling of dread to depart.
Reluctantly, Crowley resumed time and quickly changed the subject. “Aight, fish stew. Anyway…”