Work Text:
“Why are you shouting, Crowley?“
“THE QUESTION IS WHY AREN’T YOU?“
“What- no. That’s not the question!“, Aziraphale put his hands over his ears. Crowley stood right in front of him, not even an arm's length away. Still, he was shouting like they were on opposite sides of the street. “You weren’t shouting yesterday.“
“YES. BUT THAT WAS YESTERDAY.“
“And?“ He stepped away a few paces now; Crowley could be really loud if he wanted to.
“AND WHAT DAY WAS YESTERDAY, ANGEL?“
“Exploding churches day? Me on the West End day? Saving my li- books day?”
“WEDNESDAY.”
“Wednesday..? But what on earth has that to do with anything ? Did your ears get damaged because of the bomb? Do you have tinnitus?“
Concerned, Aziraphale went closer again, trying to look at his ears. He hoped it was only that and nothing else. He could heal damaged ears, he was sure about that. Slowly, as if Crowley was a shy animal, he reached out and cupped his head between his hands. That action distracted Crowley enough that he stopped shouting for the moment. He just stared at Aziraphale; he could sense it even though the demon was still wearing his sunglasses. Turning Crowley’s head slowly, he examined both ears, but couldn’t find anything. That was not good.
“Okay. No tinnitus or other injuries. So, please tell me, what has happened since yesterday that makes you shout?”
“IT’S EASY. TODAY IS THURSDAY!”
Aziraphale jumped back, pressing his hands over his ears again; a painful expression on his face. Now he was sure he heard a distant ringing sound. He had been so happy to see Crowley again so soon, but that happiness was completely gone by now.
“I HAVE QUIET ENOUGH OF THAT CROWLEY!”, in his anger he went over and tapped Crowley’s chest with his finger. “GIVE ME A REAL EXPLANATION OR GO BUT DON’T JUST YELL AND MAKE FUN OF ME!”
“SEE, ANGEL, THAT’S IT. NOW YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT”, Crowley beamed at him. He wasn’t disturbed at all by the shouting right in front of him. “ISN’T IT A GREAT FEELING? JUST LET IT ALL OUT.”
Aziraphale looked at him in disbelief, but he had to admit that it didn’t feel bad at all. He wouldn’t go so far as to call it “great” but certainly not bad. He tried to suppress the smile that was plucking at the corners of his mouth.
“OKAY, GOOD. YOU WON, I WILL TRY. WE WILL SEE WHO OF US CAN BE LOUDER.” Crowley winked at him and flattened the angel’s hand on his chest. Aziraphale hadn’t even realised it was still resting there, and the feeling of Crowley’s heartbeat under his palm made him almost miss the next words.
“OH ANGEL, BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.” Aziraphale felt the heat rising in his body, and his cheeks reddened. He turned around, fidgeting with his ring, trying to find something else to talk – or rather, shout – about.
“SO, UM, HOW LONG WILL WE DO THIS? WOULD YOU CARE FOR A DRINK? MUSIC WOULDN’T DO IT I SUPPOSE, WE ARE LOUDER”, he twitched at that but now he had to end the sentence. “I MEAN WE COULDN’T HEAR THE MUSIC ANYWAY.” While speaking, he was already on his way to get some wine when he felt a touch on his back. He turned, facing Crowley.
A Crowley who wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore. A Crowley who was touching him and looking at him with such intensity, that he couldn’t move. He just stared back, mesmerised. And then Crowley was there, pressing him against the bookshelf in his back, still doing nothing but looking. Slowly Crowley tilted his head, his face came closer, and closer…
Aziraphale heard the distant sound of bells ringing; he counted them out of habit. One, two, three..twelve chimes. Midnight. The day was over.
“Well, Aziraphale, that was quite a week, right?”
“HEY, WHY AREN’T YOU – why aren’t you shouting anymore?”
“Because it’s Friday, angel.”
