Work Text:
Aziraphale was reading outside in their garden in the South Downs one evening as Crowley was telling off the roses. The heat of the day had dissipated, and the temperature had dropped quickly. Aziraphale noticed that Crowley was shivering.
“Would you like me to get you a sweater?” Aziraphale asked, as he snuggled into his woollen cardigan. “You look a bit cold.”
“Nonsense, angel,” Crowley said, smiling at Aziraphale’s concern. “I’m perfectly fine. My anger at these damn roses is keeping me warm. Did you see one of them try to prick me with a thorn?” He turned his attention back to the roses. “Right, you lot. If one of you does that again, you’re all getting ripped up and put in the compost heap over there.” He pointed to a large mound in the corner of the garden…it was composed entirely of plants that had disappointed him.
Crowley continued to shiver now and then as he turned his attention to the snapdragons. Aziraphale thought for a while and came up with the perfect plan.
The next day there was a knock on the front door. Aziraphale jumped up from the sofa to answer it, pushing Crowley out of the way. He accepted a package, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. Several minutes later he returned to the living room.
“Can I borrow your mobile, please?” he asked.
“Why, who are you going to ring? I’m the only one whose number you know, and I can’t very well answer if you have my mobile. Also what if I get an important call?”
“Who’s going to call you?”
“I don’t know...maybe the library about an overdue book?”
“But Crowley, you barely read, and you don’t know where the library is. Please,” Aziraphale insisted, holding out his hand.
Crowley gave him the mobile. Aziraphale went into the bathroom and locked the door.
That’s unusual behaviour even for him, Crowley thought. He slept for a while, and when he woke he realised Aziraphale was still in the bathroom.
“Are you okay in there?” he called out.
“Yes, tickety-boo, no need to worry about me!” was the response.
“Can I have my mobile back?” Crowley asked.
“No.”
Crowley walked over and stood with his ear against the bathroom door. He could hear soft music and a soothing voice. He was sure he heard the word ‘dominant.’ Then the sounds stopped.
“I can hear you out there. I’m busy. Why don’t you make coffee?” Aziraphale suggested.
Crowley went into the kitchen, made coffee, and mulled over the word ‘dominant’ for a while. An interesting word, he thought, but it could refer to many things.
He sprawled on the sofa and tried very hard to listen to what was going on in the bathroom. He heard more soft music, the same soothing voice, and this time he was sure he heard the phrases ‘flip it over’ and ‘insert it into this hole.’
Seductive words, time spent alone in a bathroom…hmm, he thought.
“I know what you’re doing in there,” he called out.
“No, I’m sure you don’t.”
Just then Crowley heard a voice in the bathroom say ‘dominatrix’ loudly, followed by Aziraphale cursing softly.
Aha! Crowley thought.
“I have something for you!” Aziraphale said as he walked out of the bathroom several minutes later. He proudly held out a long knitted scarf. It was light grey with a black and red snake curving sinuously along the length of it; the head of the snake had bright yellow eyes, and a forked tongue peeked out from its mouth. “I thought you could wear this outside on chilly evenings.”
“Oh, I thought you were inviting a dominatrix over for the weekend.”
“No, silly. That was the DomiKNITrix website. I’ve spent the day learning how to knit so I could make this for you.”
“Angel, this is beautiful. You truly are a master knitter,” Crowley gushed as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. “Now, about this dominatrix…”
“I’m listening.”