#c; crowley [good omens] | hodgepodgebitches (2025)

|| CLOSED || Crowley & Aziraphale ||

@galacticforces HAVE A THING

Unprompted starter based on my tags here

“Trust me, if hell noticed that I'd already be in the pits.” At the comment he slumped sideways against him as he walked, he would probably just assume it was the laudanum. Because what else would it possibly be? Him using the poison as an excuse for some kind of contact? That was crazy, or at least he hoped Aziraphale thought so. His head was still a bit fuzzy maybe he should filter out the poison, but what excuse would he have then?

Crowley scowled and pulled his hand back well rolling over so he was facing the back of the couch, though he was entirely sure he wasn't going to actually fall asleep yet. “Fine, I'll... Just leave in the morning.” He shifted a bit, one elbow going under his head at the other hand wrapped up and around the throw pillow situated under him.

“...thanks, Angel.” The words were barely mumbled out and his eyes were shut as he tried to pretend he was asleep until he could actually managed to pass back out.

"When you like," Aziraphale said quietly, watching Crowley get settled with undeniable fondness. The thanks pulled him out of his hazy adoration, but only just. It was still unbelievably hard to actually walk away. "Don't- don't hesitate to call for me. If you need me."

When he'd like is never, every time they met up and then parted ways again he felt weird and lonely and like the only person who mattered was just out of reach. But he couldn't say that, couldn't admit that he wanted to spend all his time hanging around an angel. He certainly couldn't expect that any angel would take that any way but horrible, even Aziraphale.

So instead he made a grunting noise in acknowledgement and pulled his legs into himself a bit, rather than leaving then stretched out the way they had been.

When he finally woke up he could tell it was day time, light filtering through the blanket he had clearly pulled up and over his head. He wondered briefly when he'd gotten himself a blanket, then as the night before wormed it's way back into his sleepy mind he realized he probably hadn't. Aziraphale was thoughtful enough that it was probably him.

After a moment he finally shifted, pulling the blanket down off his face with a slight grumble and getting up so find Aziraphale. As he walked a small miracle put his clothes and hair in order, stopping when he found the angel shifting around some books on a shelf.

“Spot of lunch for last night, Angel?” It was as close to a 'thank you' or a 'sorry' that he would get sober, but it also might just be him wanting to extend their time together a bit before he left. Chances were it would be a couple of years, if not decades before they saw each other again if the past was any indication.

He wanted to touch, to steady and comfort, but Crowley was on a flat surface now and turned fully away from him. Clearly, he didn’t need that any longer. So Aziraphale kept his hands to himself, at least for the moment, and he let Crowley sleep, though he gave in to the urge to at least throw a blanket over him to make sure he stayed warm, once he was properly unconscious.

At the very least, Crowley stayed as a comforting presence through the night. It would be selfish to ask for more than that.

When he heard the demon move, it took a great deal of restraint to not immediately look towards him, but he came closer and when he spoke up, Aziraphale, as always, couldn’t help but turn towards the warmth of his voice. "Hm?" He really shouldn't. But then, food would help Crowley get the rest of the way toward recovered. And it looked, frankly, like he could use it, even if he had fixed himself up already.

"Yes, alright." He didn’t know why, after all this time, Crowley could still manage to tempt him so easily. He knew. "I don't suppose you know where you're off to next?"

Crowley leaned his shoulder against the edge of a bookshelf, very pointedly not touching any of the books there. The last thing he needed was for Aziraphale to get upset with him about damaging one of them and having to leave sooner. “Not sure, no new orders yet.”

It was true enough, he hadn't exactly gotten any specific orders. There was always the general one though, cause mischief and push for mayhem. But technically he could do that anywhere, and at that realization he said. “Maybe I'll stick around, what is this? London?, for a bit. Sow a little bit of demonic chaos.”

His lips turned up into a smirk at that statement, expecting at least some kind of comment about not starting trouble for him from Aziraphale.

Aziraphale shelved the last of the books he'd been holding, then turned to get his coat. It was half-on when he spun back around to face Crowley. "Oh, could you?" he sounded excited at the prospect.

"It's only that if you're here, I have a good argument for staying put a while, and I quite like this location." He finished with his coat, then put on a hat and scarf and offered Crowley his things, which had been removed and hung up at some point around when they'd stumbled in the night before.

Crowley was glad for his eyes being hidden by his glasses with the way he was sure he was looking at Aziraphale when he brightened at the prospect of him sticking around the area. If he'd been half heartedly throwing ideas around before, now it was a plan to stubbornly stay put as long as the angel wanted to stick to London.

“Sure I can find some excuse or project to keep me around the area, plenty of people around. Big cities, great for demonic temptations.” He pulled on his long coat at he spoke, flopping the hat up onto his head. He way paying more attention to the articles as he got them on than he really needed to, trying not to look to much into his reaction. He just wanted to stay in his new shop, that's all.

Aziraphale beamed. "Yes, I suppose they must be." As soon as Crowley had his hat on, he offered his arm companionably and nodded toward the door. Lunch would be lovely, but the prospect of many more--of this not being a goodbye--made it all the sweeter. "It's a beautiful day. Shall we find someplace with outdoor seating?"

At the offered arm Crowley's mind flashed to just how clingy he'd been the night before, pretty walking stick? What in heaven had he been thinking? Except that was exactly the problem, he hadn't been thinking. He'd been off his head on laudanum and stubbornly resisting sobering himself up.

After just a second of hesitation he reached out his arm to take his. “Whatever you want, Angel.” Even if lunch wasn't his way of thanking him for the night before, Aziraphale was the one who loved food not him.