"You gotta talk to them. Plants like that." Granted, most people didn't talk to them the way he did, but it was difficult to argue with his results. Even his boss left him alone about it by now. Not a single plant wilted or died on Crowley's watch, everyone knew that. "I've got a lot of plants at home, but, really, you can start with anything. Just takes a bit of know-how and enough care. We went to pick out a plant for Adam when he first moved in. Strange little boy picked an apple tree."
Crowley showed with his hands how small said tree was. "It's growing well and he's named it, so, you know. Fits right in with your Eden theme." Crowley stuck out his tongue, wiggling it about playfully. "I'll be the snake."
"I'm sure you would be." Aziraphale laughed and then turned away, cursing to himself. Yes, he was. He was the snake, the tempter, the test - and he was failing. He had already failed. He was tempted. God could smite him, he was fine with that, as long as he got to check out Crowley and maybe just once, he could touch his chest.
Coming back out, he set the coffee down and leaned against the desk, just keeping an eye on nearby customers.
"I'm glad you, erm, that you ... came back. Not just because of the late fee, of course, though that did trouble me! No, I just -- I didn't want to make you feel unwelcome here." He knew that he had seen the church, that he knew his religion, that he knew he must be in deep but he had still approached him and spoke to him. It made him feel less awful about it all.
Crowley wasn't sure for an instance just what Aziraphale was getting at, but then he thought it over and the dots connected. He shrugged his shoulders, deciding to simply share his thoughts freely. "I try not to judge anyone the way I've been judged all my life. By where I come from, my family, what I look like..."
He gestured to indicate that the list went on. Being gay and not ashamed over it, now having a child and probably not doing the best job at it, all things he got judged for. "You haven't called me a heathen, you aren't running from my evil homosexual wiles, I reckon you can't be as bad as all that, angel."
"I don't think you're bad at all. Not sure what I'd assume you were if I was trying to judge you." Aziraphale, who was looking him over, didn't have time to stop himself because he said what he was thinking. A common problem. "I suppose a model."
As soon as he said it, all casual like it was a sure fact, he then realised how weird that was to say to someone and his eyes widened a fraction as he tried to think of a way to recover.
Crowley looked at Aziraphale, confused at first. That quickly gave way to confusion and then a certain satisfaction. He had been trying to figure out whether Aziraphale was into him at all, but - in all fairness - the closet thing had thrown him off. If he had read Aziraphale so wrong to misjudge how open he was about his obvious gayness, how could he trust anything else?
But this, well. This wasn't really subtle. "Don't know about plants," he said slowly, leaning back and adjusting himself a little. Now he could just watch Aziraphale's eyes. See where they went. Damn, he was adorable when he was blushing. "I'd rather do some nude modelling, but I'm not sure how they'd feel about the tattoos."
"You have tattoos?" Well, he was definitely getting into heaven. Also - hot. Very, very hot. Like Spain in the summer holidays sort of hot. Aziraphale was red again, as always, trying to not look at Crowley now because every time he did, he found himself staring at the bit of skin that was showing and he knew he was a mortifying mess. He would stop creeping Crowley out soon if he didn't control himself.
He was the creepy Christian in the closet! It was not flattering when a weird guy like him showed interest, Crowley was probably embarrassed for him. He awkwardly started to fiddle with his jacket buttons.
"You are quite the rebel, aren't you? I'm afraid I don't know much about that..."
"Are you quite sure about that? Because here you are, shiftily seducing a single father in the backroom of your library. Seems rebellious to me. I'd go so far as to say it's salacious." This was perhaps just a little too entertaining, but there was something to the way Aziraphale kept playing with his buttons. He had pretty deft fingers. There was also something to be said about getting the attention of someone who wasn't a mother of three on a playground. It had been a while.
The teasing came easily. He didn't assume it would lead too much, given their respective situations, but still. "Quite salacious."
"I am not! I'm not -- I'm shifty at all. I'm rather -- rather upfront. If I wanted to seduce you, I would be seducing you right now." Aziraphale defended with almost a childish pout. "I'm just making small talk. Very normal. You're the-the seducer. Seductor. With your -- your shirt. Like that. And the pants and --eyes and... well." He paused and cleared his throat.
Well, didn't he just show how much he had been taking note. Aziraphale looked away and wondered how much more he could show his hand today? He may as well just pathetically call him pretty at this point. He raised his hand and covered his face. "I'm really rather bad at this, aren't I?" Hiding. Being covert. Being charming. Hitting on people. All applicable.
"Hm. I don't know yet. It's too early to judge." Crowley spread his legs and leaned forward, his hands on his knees, his eyes - behind the sunglasses - on Aziraphale. His eyebrows were raised and, yes, of course that movement made the shirt gape open just a little. Perhaps a little much, as part of the snake tattoo that went up his arm and wrapped all the way to his chest was no definitely visible, with more of his chest exposed.
"What about my shirt. And pants. And eyes?" Well, he had to know.
Aziraphale swallowed hard. This was it - God was testing him. God was testing him and ... he had failed, right? Was failing. Flunking out ages ago when he first saw Gabriel's running friends in their tight shorts and tops. Oh gosh, why was he like this? He wasn't brave either. He gripped his jacket in his hands and bunched it up as he tried to find any courage or some sense of suave or flirting or something.
"The pants are... tight. And-And the shirt is very -- loose. Open. At the top. It's hard to not--" He licked his lips, even his ears were burning. This was so crass, to speak on such things. What was he doing? "Your eyes are very memorable. They're beautiful." He bit his lower lip. "Like amber."
"I meant that the other day, you know." Weirdly, it was that that broke through it again. Through his trolling, his teasing. Crowley became a little more real, a tad more serious, sitting back again and indicating his eyes behind the glasses. "No one's ever said anything like that about my eyes."
The tight pants, he had heard a lot about that before. "Cheers for that." He cleared his throat, feeling just a tad awkward now himself. "You really need to come out some time."
Wait. Ah, whatever. "I mean, come to a club. Bar. Pub. Whatever tickles your fancy. You'll get better at the seduction once you realise." He indicated Aziraphale's entire being. "Gay catnip, you."
"I'm rather taken with them. It's a shame you hide them but I assume you have to. Protection, yes?" He saw that they were blood shot that night but it wasn't enough to detract from it's nice colouring. It's softness. Crowley's eyes held no judgement and they were different, unique - just like he was.
Aziraphale smiled a little and shook his head slowly. "Oh no, I really could not. I'm not good with that sort of thing. And I very much doubt I am 'catnip' for anyone. I just -- I don't know what I would do with myself."
He laughed awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders. "The closest I ever was to anything like that was a 'teens for Jesus' dance I had to attend because my father made me. The music was loud and even though no one there could be deemed 'cool' by any standards, I was still the least popular there. So let that stand for itself. I was bullied by an altar boy all evening for -- things I would not want to repeat." Mostly his queer little face and faggoty walk. "I am not a hit at parties."
"It's an autoimmune disease, so yeah. I wear the glasses most of the time." Especially when it was bright, which was most everywhere during the day. He looked Aziraphale over and shook his head in turn, wanting to correct him.
"Darling, come on. You've never been at a gay party. Trust me as someone who's been to too many: Catnip. With that hair, the smile, the way you move and the great bum? You better don't go without me, I think you'll need guidance." Especially as he considered for just a moment just who would go after someone like this. Yeah, he'd have to keep Aziraphale safe from that. Golden-haired cherub was just bound to call to the wrong forces determined to corrupt him.
Basically he was Bill, if Bill wasn't already corrupted. So Crowley was worried just thinking about it.
"I--I have what?" He had a good arse and a nice smile and -- he liked his hair? Aziraphale laughed and then frowned a little, feeling a bit thrown. "I think that's the only time someone has spoken on my looks in a complimentary fashion. Then again, most of the people I know like to call me queer so I assume that's not really a danger here. Or a negative." Aziraphale found that oddly comforting. What he had couldn't be used against him, he couldn't be hated for what he was. Oh and there it was, that powerful, painful yearning.
"I want to. One day. Maybe not often, I'm not a party person but -- maybe. To be with people. People like me. I'm always around people who dislike almost everything about me, that love me 'in spite' of myself." And it hurt to always feel like that. And he would never feel at home in a party but he could at least belong for five seconds. And that was a nice thought.
"Yeah?" Of course he had. He would be a romantic like that. Crowley found himself smiling and then he reached into his pocket. He unlocked his phone without even looking at it, opened up a music app and simply selected a random song off his playlists, turning up the volume.
Queens. Of course it would be.
He chuckled as he got up, holding a hand out for Aziraphale. "I'm a boy." In case that wasn't clear. "Let's show you what you've been missing."
"I'm at work." Aziraphale protested. "Someone could see..."
Who could see. They were off to the side, in the office, and no one could see. His colleague was working the desk, the storytime session was going and no one really needed him. He wanted to protest but there was music and a boy was asking him to dance and--
He took his hand without thinking, not sure what to do. He hadn't danced in years. Not with a boy either. Did he lead or follow? Was it a waltz? He could not stand on his feet or he would ruin everything!!
Honestly, Crowley had no idea how to dance to this. He barely knew how to dance unless reasonably drunk and surrounded by hot bodies and a deafening beat. However, this was a repressed gay boy who just wanted to be held. Dance with another boy. So he took his hand and pulled him close, wrapped an arm around him and moved, at least vaguely, to the music, while looking down at Aziraphale.
Good old fashioned lover boy seemed about right for this.
There was no going back from this, was there? No chance, no. His heart was racing and he had to blink back tears by the end of it because this man was holding him and treating him like a lover, not like a pain. And it was making his heart hurt more than he could imagine. When the song eventually ended, Aziraphale pulled himself together and pulled away carefully.
"I--"
"UNCLE CROWLEY! UNCLE CROOOOOOWLEY." Oh. That would be Adam. Aziraphale laughed, almost grateful for the quick save.
"By the pest, yeah." Crowley reached up to rub his eyes briefly and then he pushed his glasses up, looking right at Aziraphale without them in the way. Aziraphale liked his eyes, he could deal with the light for just a moment. Or several. It was so very flattering that he liked his eyes. "I believe you are wanted too."
He needed him to know that. He could do so much better than that closeted life. Crowley flashed him a smile and then let the glasses slide back down, turning around to leave the kitchen and find his wayward child. "Adam? What do you need, brat?"
"I got my books." Adam informed Crowley as he tried to peer over the desk. "Are you talking to Aziraphale? He's my friend too."
Aziraphale pulled himself together swiftly, Crowley's words haunting him as he tried his best to keep himself above water. He came out of the kitchen too, smiling fondly at Adam. "Hello, my dear boy. How are you doing, young Adam? Did you find books?"
"I have lots of them. We're gonna go home and read. I have the Gruffalo." Adam smiled and then held them out towards his uncle. "Were your playing?"
"Ah, you know me. Big player, me." Crowley got down to Adam's level so he could have a look at the books he had brought with him, taking them from him before he could drop any. "You'll have to ask Aziraphale whether those books are good. He's the expert, he ought to know."
He glanced up at Aziraphale and shrugged. "I don't know how much you specialise in the two to five market." Probably not overly. Looked more like a serious book reader. "You got books that Bill would like? Whatcha think?"
"From all I do know, he has a fantastic selection."
Adam beamed and then held up the marvel short stories he had gotten. "Bill will like this, he can read it to me."
Bill. Who was Bill? Crowley mentioned him and Adam seemed excited to -- oh. Oh God, he was an idiot. Crowley was taken. Ah. Well. That explained it. That was pity back there, wasn't it? Made sense. He should had expected it. He should hope for it. He could have sworn Crowley said he was single but -- well, maybe he was into this Bill fellow or he misunderstood.
Aziraphale took the library card that Adam was brandishing at him and swiftly typed up the stuff on the computer, taking the books from the boy to scan them. "I hope you enjoy them. You and, uh, you and Bill. And your uncle, of course."
"Bill probably will. Seems about on his emotional level." There was a book about a dinosaur that worried. Seemed tailormade for his friend. "Which one do you think Bill will like the most, huh?"
Crowley picked up Adam so he could look over the counter, watching what Aziraphale was doing. He wanted to ask him to come to a club with him some time, really, but now there were people around. Aziraphale wasn't out. He knew he had to tread carefully.
"So, you should have my phone number. Just in case we need to text you about something. Regarding the book."
What was going on with this situation? He was so confused. Who was Bill?! He could have asked but he was flustered and he didn't want to make a fool of himself. Crowley was so nice and even if he didn't like him that much, at least he was nice? He smiled a little when Adam looked over and tilted his monitor so the boy could watch. "I, uh, I have your number. In the system. If it was a real number, anyway. I assume you didn't give me a dud."
"You can call and come over. Do you want to come over?"
"Perhaps one day." When he understood who Bill was. He finished up and held the books out. "It was nice to talk to you again, Crowley. You are always... enlightening."
"You should come over. Then we could go out, I can get Bill to play sitter for a night." Why not? He'd be easy enough to convince if he let him sleep on the couch and have whatever he wanted from the kitchen. Bill always liked snacks, he had no idea whether that boy was ever not hungry. "You are a whole shard of light, angel. Don't leave me hanging. Hit me up."
That said, he lifted Adam off the counter, but kept him in his arms as he headed for the exit. "Ciao!"
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thearrangement2023-04-13 06:20 pm
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Crowley showed with his hands how small said tree was. "It's growing well and he's named it, so, you know. Fits right in with your Eden theme." Crowley stuck out his tongue, wiggling it about playfully. "I'll be the snake."
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Coming back out, he set the coffee down and leaned against the desk, just keeping an eye on nearby customers.
"I'm glad you, erm, that you ... came back. Not just because of the late fee, of course, though that did trouble me! No, I just -- I didn't want to make you feel unwelcome here." He knew that he had seen the church, that he knew his religion, that he knew he must be in deep but he had still approached him and spoke to him. It made him feel less awful about it all.
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He gestured to indicate that the list went on. Being gay and not ashamed over it, now having a child and probably not doing the best job at it, all things he got judged for. "You haven't called me a heathen, you aren't running from my evil homosexual wiles, I reckon you can't be as bad as all that, angel."
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As soon as he said it, all casual like it was a sure fact, he then realised how weird that was to say to someone and his eyes widened a fraction as he tried to think of a way to recover.
"... of plants." There. Nailed it.
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But this, well. This wasn't really subtle. "Don't know about plants," he said slowly, leaning back and adjusting himself a little. Now he could just watch Aziraphale's eyes. See where they went. Damn, he was adorable when he was blushing. "I'd rather do some nude modelling, but I'm not sure how they'd feel about the tattoos."
All right, he wasn't going for subtle either.
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He was the creepy Christian in the closet! It was not flattering when a weird guy like him showed interest, Crowley was probably embarrassed for him. He awkwardly started to fiddle with his jacket buttons.
"You are quite the rebel, aren't you? I'm afraid I don't know much about that..."
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The teasing came easily. He didn't assume it would lead too much, given their respective situations, but still. "Quite salacious."
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Well, didn't he just show how much he had been taking note. Aziraphale looked away and wondered how much more he could show his hand today? He may as well just pathetically call him pretty at this point. He raised his hand and covered his face. "I'm really rather bad at this, aren't I?" Hiding. Being covert. Being charming. Hitting on people. All applicable.
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"What about my shirt. And pants. And eyes?" Well, he had to know.
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"The pants are... tight. And-And the shirt is very -- loose. Open. At the top. It's hard to not--" He licked his lips, even his ears were burning. This was so crass, to speak on such things. What was he doing? "Your eyes are very memorable. They're beautiful." He bit his lower lip. "Like amber."
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The tight pants, he had heard a lot about that before. "Cheers for that." He cleared his throat, feeling just a tad awkward now himself. "You really need to come out some time."
Wait. Ah, whatever. "I mean, come to a club. Bar. Pub. Whatever tickles your fancy. You'll get better at the seduction once you realise." He indicated Aziraphale's entire being. "Gay catnip, you."
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Aziraphale smiled a little and shook his head slowly. "Oh no, I really could not. I'm not good with that sort of thing. And I very much doubt I am 'catnip' for anyone. I just -- I don't know what I would do with myself."
He laughed awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders. "The closest I ever was to anything like that was a 'teens for Jesus' dance I had to attend because my father made me. The music was loud and even though no one there could be deemed 'cool' by any standards, I was still the least popular there. So let that stand for itself. I was bullied by an altar boy all evening for -- things I would not want to repeat." Mostly his queer little face and faggoty walk. "I am not a hit at parties."
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"Darling, come on. You've never been at a gay party. Trust me as someone who's been to too many: Catnip. With that hair, the smile, the way you move and the great bum? You better don't go without me, I think you'll need guidance." Especially as he considered for just a moment just who would go after someone like this. Yeah, he'd have to keep Aziraphale safe from that. Golden-haired cherub was just bound to call to the wrong forces determined to corrupt him.
Basically he was Bill, if Bill wasn't already corrupted. So Crowley was worried just thinking about it.
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"I want to. One day. Maybe not often, I'm not a party person but -- maybe. To be with people. People like me. I'm always around people who dislike almost everything about me, that love me 'in spite' of myself." And it hurt to always feel like that. And he would never feel at home in a party but he could at least belong for five seconds. And that was a nice thought.
"... I always wanted to dance with a boy."
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Queens. Of course it would be.
He chuckled as he got up, holding a hand out for Aziraphale. "I'm a boy." In case that wasn't clear. "Let's show you what you've been missing."
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Who could see. They were off to the side, in the office, and no one could see. His colleague was working the desk, the storytime session was going and no one really needed him. He wanted to protest but there was music and a boy was asking him to dance and--
He took his hand without thinking, not sure what to do. He hadn't danced in years. Not with a boy either. Did he lead or follow? Was it a waltz? He could not stand on his feet or he would ruin everything!!
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Good old fashioned lover boy seemed about right for this.
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"I--"
"UNCLE CROWLEY! UNCLE CROOOOOOWLEY." Oh. That would be Adam. Aziraphale laughed, almost grateful for the quick save.
"I believe you're wanted."
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He needed him to know that. He could do so much better than that closeted life. Crowley flashed him a smile and then let the glasses slide back down, turning around to leave the kitchen and find his wayward child. "Adam? What do you need, brat?"
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Aziraphale pulled himself together swiftly, Crowley's words haunting him as he tried his best to keep himself above water. He came out of the kitchen too, smiling fondly at Adam. "Hello, my dear boy. How are you doing, young Adam? Did you find books?"
"I have lots of them. We're gonna go home and read. I have the Gruffalo." Adam smiled and then held them out towards his uncle. "Were your playing?"
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He glanced up at Aziraphale and shrugged. "I don't know how much you specialise in the two to five market." Probably not overly. Looked more like a serious book reader. "You got books that Bill would like? Whatcha think?"
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Adam beamed and then held up the marvel short stories he had gotten. "Bill will like this, he can read it to me."
Bill. Who was Bill? Crowley mentioned him and Adam seemed excited to -- oh. Oh God, he was an idiot. Crowley was taken. Ah. Well. That explained it. That was pity back there, wasn't it? Made sense. He should had expected it. He should hope for it. He could have sworn Crowley said he was single but -- well, maybe he was into this Bill fellow or he misunderstood.
Aziraphale took the library card that Adam was brandishing at him and swiftly typed up the stuff on the computer, taking the books from the boy to scan them. "I hope you enjoy them. You and, uh, you and Bill. And your uncle, of course."
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Crowley picked up Adam so he could look over the counter, watching what Aziraphale was doing. He wanted to ask him to come to a club with him some time, really, but now there were people around. Aziraphale wasn't out. He knew he had to tread carefully.
"So, you should have my phone number. Just in case we need to text you about something. Regarding the book."
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"You can call and come over. Do you want to come over?"
"Perhaps one day." When he understood who Bill was. He finished up and held the books out. "It was nice to talk to you again, Crowley. You are always... enlightening."
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That said, he lifted Adam off the counter, but kept him in his arms as he headed for the exit. "Ciao!"