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“All I’m saying, Angel, is that it doesn’t make sense.” Crowley was lounging in an uncomfortable looking position in the armchair across from Aziraphale. He took another gulp of wine from the glass clasped loosely in his hand.
“You’re telling me that people actually feel that way?” His face twisted in a frown. “They can just look at each other and want to have sexual relations, just like that?”
Aziraphale shifted slightly, “why yes, I’ve heard it’s called sexual attraction. And most of the population seems to experience it in one way or another.” A thoughtful look passed over him, “you’ve never wondered why humans are always engaging in hanky panky behavior?”
Lips twitching, the redhead tilted his glass, watching the liquid swirl. “Hanky panky? Really, Angel, where’d you hear that one?” Crowley sprawled further in his impossible repose, “I suppose I had always assumed that it was due to divine influences or demonic temptations that the humans involved themselves in such activities,” he drawled. “I’ve certainly never felt any inclination to do the same.”
He turned his narrowed gaze on Aziraphale, “what about you, Angel? Any such indulgences of the carnal sort?”
“Not for me either, my dear,” Aziraphale shook his head. “I’ve never understood what all the hullabaloo was about. I prefer the simplicity of my books, and I appreciate your companionship beyond most everything else.”
“Ngk…” Crowley jolted a bit in shock. “You can’t just say things like that, Angel,” he complained.
Aziraphale grinned at Crowley, “why ever not? Can’t I acknowledge how I feel?”
“Fine, whatever,” growled Crowley through clenched teeth, head tilted backwards over the arm of the chair. “Just don’t expect me to start getting gooey and sentimental.”
“Of course not, my dear,” Aziraphale reached over and patted Crowley’s knee. “I know voicing your feelings is difficult for you.”
Crowley snapped his head to look at Aziraphale. “It’s not so much the voicing them part that’s difficult, Angel,” he grumbled. “Even trying to figure out what it is that I’m feeling sometimes, is a wearying feat.” He looked away from Aziraphale before adding, “especially when it comes to you. Ngk…I just don’t have the words.”
“That’s alright, dear boy,” Aziraphale declared. “As long as you’re happy with what we have, and you tell me if there's something that’s not working for you, I don’t care if we never label what we are.”
Resting his head against the arm of the chair again, Crowley sighed. “I am happy, Angel, very content.” He looks back at Aziraphale and smirks, “the rest is really quite ineffable, isn’t it?”
“That it is, my dear, that it is.”