"Okay, so, I just wanted to come over and tell you to just -- keep calm when I tell you what I'm going to tell you." Newt said, approaching Crowley sheepishly. It was his engagement party and he had invited his friends. Well, friend. But his friend had friends so he counted them too. Anathema had also invited her friends too, which included her friends from work. "So, uh, your ex had a very memorable name and my beloved future wife's colleague has a very similar name so either there are, amazingly, two Aziraphale's in the greater London area or your ex is here."
"Shit." Bill said simply as he immediately reached out to grab onto Crowley before he stormed off. It was a party for Newt and Anathema, not a party to start a feud and a fight.
"Yeah, I didn't know." Newt apologises as he held up his hands. He really didn't - but he had a feeling that Anathema knew. She must have. She was so cunning.
"He's not in London. He's away on mission." Crowley said it in a way no one had ever said anything that was supposed to mimic the way he'd been informed of it by Gabriel all that time ago. What was it now, three years? Something like that. Which he thought to himself - usually thoughts he repressed to the back of his mind - and then remembered furiously googling, all the research he had done to try and track Aziraphale down. To find the training centre, to find out where he'd been sent, anything.
And for how long. Two years, a mission lasted two years. Even with the six months training period, that had to mean that Aziraphale was back by now. Working-- Wait, didn't Anathema work at a library?
"Fucking hell!" He was back by now! Aziraphale was back from mission. "Where is he? I'm gonna--"
He noticed the way Newt looked at him, Bill's hand tightening on him. So he forced himself to appear calm. "I'm just curious. To catch up, you know?" Fucking bastard.
"Okay but like, you know, he's just here to celebrate and we don't want a scene." He didn't but he had a feeling his future wife might. She really hated Aziraphale's boyfriend and -- oh shit. Should he warn for that? Probably not. It would set him off. "I just think you should avoid him, it's not good for either of you. I'll make sure you can stay apart and you won't run into them."
Yeah, Bill caught it. And if Bill caught it, Crowley would too. "...Them?"
"Fuck. Damn. Sorry, I didn't want to say, it's just -- well, he brought his... boyfriend." Well, wasn't this a mess. He anxiously looked behind in, towards the room he knew Aziraphale was in, already wondering if he should go and warn the other to jump out of the window and run.
"His fucking-- When the bloody hell did he get a boyfriend? What, he's ready to be out and proud with that bastard?" Crowley was aware that he was getting louder than necessary and he very much did not care. "Because I wasn't good enough, was I? Not even good enough for a decent conversation. Can't look me in the eye and break up with me, but can bring his new boyfriend to a party!"
He noticed what direction Newt was looking and, quite suddenly, pulled away from Bill to stalk into that direction, right into that room. "Aziraphale?!"
He wasn't going for subtle. Anathema was standing with Aziraphale, while Dallen was freshening up in the bathroom, according to him, and now she took a step back. Ah. Stage was set.
Oh no. Oh no, he knew that voice. He knew it before he saw him coming. The dread that ran through him as he heard it. He froze, eyeing up every possible exit, on the verge of leaping to one when Crowley burst in. No, no, no, no, no. This is why he didn't want to come back to Soho! They should have gone on another mission but noooo, he thought he'd burn in South America (and he would) so here he was.
In hell. Fuck - what was Dallen going to think? He would also yell. God, why do you hate him?
He tried to get some sense of composure, attempting to smile politely. "A-Ah. Crowley, hello-- Hi. Long time, no see..."
"Yeah. Yeah, you can fucking say that again. Long time no see, are you fucking kidding me?!" No, Crowley still didn't intend to quiet down and his focus was on Aziraphale. For all it mattered to him, no one else was even here. He didn't care about anyone else in that moment.
Aziraphale looked as always, almost unchanged. The way he remembered him. Soft blond curls, that dimple, the perfect lips that were always a tease that he never seemed aware of. Crowley supposed he hadn't changed much either, dressed all in black, sunglasses. He had a new tattoo that was supposed to celebrate getting over Aziraphale but that really just reminded him of Aziraphale every time he saw it. A feather on his inner forearm. Visible now, as he gesticulated and had short sleeves.
"Since when are you back? Yesterday? Didn't have time to pick up a phone yet, did you? Didn't have time to hit me up. Just a quick: 'Oh, hi, Crowley. Really missed you on that mission. Sorry I missed your six-hundred sixty-six calls, by the way.'"
"Well, uh, I-- I kind of thought I made it clear..." He texted him one final message telling him he didn't want to do this and it was over and that was kind of it. He ditched his phone and went on the mission Gabriel had pushed him over for months on end. And it was how he met Dallen, how he fell in love, how he had what little he had now. It was for the best, he was happyish and Crowley could get over him. Hopefully. He definitely seemed out of love with him? That was win.
"Please don't yell, it's not very becoming, is it? We could talk privately. Outside, even. It's Anathema's day and I just -- this isn't very -- let's not, okay?"
He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to reject Crowley again and again, it was hard enough the first time. He held up his hands, apologetic. "I said all I want to say."
Dallen said nothing all the way out of the party. Nothing on the way out of the building. Nothing on the way to the car. He got in the car, put his seatbelt on, but he didn't start the car yet. He continued to say nothing, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. He knew he had to calm down more before he started driving.
Somehow, this was worse. Worse than just assuming that maybe Crowley had had someone before him. This was knowing it. This was knowing it and knowing that it was someone like that. Someone so different from him, someone wild and dangerous and definitely an outsider. His sunglasses were so stupid.
He hated when Dallen was mad. Sometimes, he had such an unpleasant temper. He didn't like fighting or bad feelings, he just wanted things to be simple. Easy. Nice. He wish he had known Crowley would be here or he wouldn't have come. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he was here. I--I met him before you, when I had doubts, it was a different time..."
As subtly as he could, he tried to slip the ring off so he could hide it. He didn't like the idea of losing it, it was the closest thing he would ever have to something from a loved one that he could wear and feel some sense of love and pride.
"Give me the ring, Aziraphale." Dallen held a hand out for it, simply expecting him to comply. "Do you know how disgusted it makes me feel that you've been touching me while wearing another man's ring?"
He certainly sounded disgusting. "You're disrespecting everything you and I have built. Walking off into a bedroom with him when he looks like that. Dresses like that. How am I supposed to trust you?"
"I had to talk to him, he was yelling and I wanted to calm him down. I didn't want to cause a scene." Aziraphale pulled his hand back from his pocket, his finger bare for the first time since he and Dallen had met. "I, uh, I put it away and when I get home, I will -- I will dispose of it myself but I will do it. I have to -- it's just -- well, it was a symbol to me. About the mission. Why I was doing it. I wanted a reminder to-to stay pure."
It was a lie but whatever, he just didn't want to lose it. "I don't disrespect what we have, I love what we have." He could have done without the yelling, mocking him in front of mutual friends and the hiding but, well, how was he supposed to know that he didn't like all of that either unless he tried it first? Looking down, he twiddled his thumbs. "Can we just go home?"
"You slept with him, didn't you?" Dallen looked at him insistently. "Not today, but before. You did. I've always wondered." Aziraphale was just a little more experienced than he would have thought otherwise. "And that's the name you said in your sleep. Crowley. What kind of name is that? What is wrong with that man? How could you have ever liked someone like that, he looks ridiculous."
He shook his head angrily. "Don't you know that redheads are punished by God? Cain was a redhead! So was Judas!"
It was very ungodly. "And those awful glasses. He looks like a criminal. He is one, isn't he? How could you?"
"He wears the glasses because of a condition! I believe it's lupus. He can't tolerate sunlight. He's not just trying to be cool." Aziraphale defended as he blushed, not wanting to say that yes, his first time was with Crowley and it was -- well, it was his best memory. Hands down. Well, no, not the sex - it was the moment after. Sharing the bed, holding each other, the way Crowley had talked.
Crowley was special. True love. God, what was he doing with Dallen? He eyed up the house, part of him wondering why he didn't just get out and go back inside.
"It was before you. I left him to go on the mission and become a better warrior or God, as it were. I told you I was tempted back home, I was and I believe I am--" Over it? As if. "I believe I am stronger."
"He was still wearing my ring. Just saying." Yes, he had interrupted Bill talking about something completely different and they had supposedly left talk of Aziraphale behind at least half an hour ago, but Crowley did feel it was important enough to bring up again. Anyway, he had a feeling that Bill's talk was about to get kinky, given he had started going on about watching footie and his boyfriend and knowing how bored said boyfriend got of footie and what had most likely happened as a result, so it seemed like a good opportunity to change the topic back.
"Clearly he can't be that over me if he's still wearing the ring I've given him three years later. That's pretty conclusive. I think."
They were walking in the park, close by the ducks, mostly walking rounds. He had a feeling Aziraphale might come here, a feeling based on some well-placed questions he had posed to Anathema. Bill didn't need to know that that was why they were here.
"Oh my God, I don't care about the sodding ring, Crowley. He's taken. Mate, come on, he's with someone and you should move on. It's better for you. I never thought I'd agree with Felix but let's take you out and get laid." Since they met up, it was about Aziraphale and what he was like and how he looked the same, the ring and the boyfriend - it was very tedious.
"Even if he isn't over you, the way he dumped you? Fucking hell, I would wring his neck. Why the fuck would you want him back?"
Rolling his eyes, Bill kicked a nearby can ahead of them, turning around to kick it to Crowley like it was a football, trying to get him to engage a little with something more fun and playful.
"Look, as I was saying. Man U is playing so let's go to a pub together. A gay one. See if we can't get you a new boy."
"I ain't saying I'm thrilled about the way he dumped me, but he left to go on mission immediately after, so given everything... Going to have to put a lot of blame on the fundamentalist circumstances." Crowley was just saying. Although, yes, it still smarted. Still knocked his confidence. And, no, he hadn't found it in him to look for a serious relationship since then, in spite of Felix's - and sometimes Bill's - insistence. "True love is something special, made, innit? You get it. I know Felix has to pretend he doesn't get it, but I know you do."
So, yes, he was angry, but less with Aziraphale directly and more with the circumstances. "Anyway, it ain't even about getting him back and all that rubbish. I just want to know he's all right. And happy. Because I don't think he is. That bloke ain't right for him, that stupid American toerag."
He kicked the can back without really thinking about it. Friendship with Bill came with a lot of kicking of things, he was a lad like that. "What kind of new boy would I meet at a pub watching Man U?"
"I don't know if he's ever going to change though. He went on a mission and now he's with another radical Christian loon. It ain't worth your time. Besides, there isn't one true love. There's gotta be some options, it can't be this shitty. If you love someone and they're garbage, what then?" Seemed a little unfair. He felt there had to be a few options for love, especially for Crowley. He deserved someone that loved him back, open and proud, and that would never been Aziraphale.
Bill kicked the can back, grinning at Crowley. "Yeah, yeah, I know, you fucking hate the new boyfriend - I heard about it but come on, there's no way to know that. They might be close. Might be mad about each other. The party was weird circumstances, you kinda rubbed some salt into wounds is all. No one likes meeting the ex."
So far, Dallen sounded fine. Bit a prick but then, who wasn't these days. "Come on, forget him and let's find you a bloke I can get on with. I could never make heads nor tails of what Aziraphale was saying to me." So it could only get better. For him.
"I got him. Aziraphale. I really got him and I don't think anyone else ever will." He also kind of felt as if Aziraphale was the only person to ever really get him. All the parts of him. It wasn't even something he could explain, he was pretty sure Bill would laugh at him if he ever tried. And Bill was about the most sensitive friend he had, which was probably saying something. "We can go and find a bloke you can watch Man U with in a bit. Just want to feed the ducks some first."
He took Bill's upper arm and led him along. He was pretty sure he had spotted a certain shade of cream in the distance. The object of his interest might finally be coming. As he looked out at the lake to avoid alerting Bill to Aziraphale coming closer too early, he talked again. "What about Barty? You say there ain't one true love. What if he up and left you? Without warning. Just like that. You getting over it?"
"I'd kill myself, I think." Well, at least he was honest, if not a little too blunt about it. "I'm sure I could find love again but I dunno, I don't think I wanna go backwards. I had a lot of love and I was happy but I don't think I can just bounce back from him. It ain't just his love, it's the life, you know? I guess it means more than love, Barty." He wasn't just a great boyfriend but also his only chance to live in the world and be an actual successful (moderately, anyway) adult. "He wouldn't up and leave, anyway. He ain't a coward. He'd dump me to my face, at least."
That he knew for sure.
"Why are we feeding ducks? I ain't got nothing for the ducks." Bill pointed out as he patted himself down, turning his head to the side to see if there was any leftover food. Then he saw it too. The flash of cream. Then he heard a voice, off in the distance, and he felt it all adding up instantly.
"Dallen! Dallen, please! Slow down, I can't--"
Yeah, that was definitely Aziraphale, wheezing somewhere in the distance. Bill turned his head in time to see a very fit looking guy jogging along and Aziraphale, slowly flagging behind, looking utterly miserable. He sighed loudly. "Are you fucking kidding me, Crowley?"
Aziraphale should have left hours ago. Literally hours ago. He and Anathema had talked a bit after his shift but he had insisted she leave so he could do the lock up and now he was just sorting books. He wanted the alone time. He hadn't locked the door but he had the key in, ready so he didn't forget to lock up on the way out, the sign for closed turned though. He hoped that was enough to deter people. The opening hours were very clear.
Dallen had texted him several times today but he had told him he had a shift until late because of them having to 'move around the library layout'. Whatever it took to get some peace. Dallen was all over him lately, smothering and suffocating. He had been bad tempered, a bit violent and very critical for a long time but the possessiveness was new and not loved.
He locked his phone away in the back office and sat there, on the floor, surrounded by books that he was rearranging and just enjoying the blessed silence.
It was bad, wasn't it? That he just really did not want to go home. Not at all.
Crowley had meant to storm the library no matter what, but obviously Anathema's pointer had helped his resolve. So, yes, he was a little tipsy. Or utterly pissed, as Bill had described it. But he didn't care. Or, honestly, maybe it made it easier not to think about possible negative repercussions.
He walked into the library, flinging the door open, then shut it behind him right away, turned the key in the lock, took said key and, while looking right at Aziraphale, wiggled it behind the waistband of his very tight pants to keep it out of reach. At least out of appropriate reach. Honestly, the dance he had to do simply to get it into his pants was already past bordering on obscene and fell more into straight up awkwardly erotic. Just how awkward or how erotic one might perceive it was probably tied directly to the degree of attraction to Crowley.
"Angel! I'm-- Er, you can't shut me out anymore. I shut me in. Us in. Together." Obviously. "Ha!"
Well. That was the strangest thing he had seen in a very long time. Looking entirely baffled among his books, he held the one he was currently holding close to his chest almost protectively as he watched his key disappear in the most insane little wiggle of a dance.
That was that then, was it?
"Good lord, Crowley, are you drunk?" He wasn't sure how he felt about any of this but he was a struggling to know how to appropriately handle this. Slowly, he put the book aside and got to his feet, holding his hand up. "Please -- Please remove the key and unlock the door, you really must get fresh air and sober up."
"I'm sober enough, angel!" Sober enough to yell and gesticulate, anyway, and how much more sober did he have to be? "I can hold my lick-- liksh-- Alcohol!" That was the one. He nodded to himself, then reached up to take his glasses off, trying to sober up a little. Folding them up, he looked at Aziraphale, his face showing his emotions plainly, raw and unfiltered. Mostly he looked pained. Saddened. "I get that you didn't want me, angel, that I wasn't worth it. Whatever."
He hated it, but he'd got the message. "But why would you want to be with that-- that berk?! He's the worst! He's some all American wannabe toothpaste model!"
"Crowley, please, you must sit. You are far too drunk for this." Aziraphale came forward on instinct, seeing how his former lover swayed. He looked so hurt and pained, he hated that so much. He held onto his arm and tugged him gently towards the nearest seat, worried he would fall otherwise. Once Crowley was sitting, Aziraphale dropped into a perch and looked up at Crowley.
Then he put his hands on his legs, trying to keep himself balanced. "Do you want some coffee? It would help..." He didn't know how to tell Crowley that he was worth a million Dallens but he felt it couldn't help, could it? It was all too late.
"I am exactly the right amount drunk for this," Crowley said - only slightly slurred. He tried to slide his glasses into his pocket, but they missed and fell to the ground instead. Crowley didn't notice. "I don't want coffee, angel." Crowley looked at Aziraphale, speaking very open, honest and vulnerable. He didn't have any pretence left right now. "I want you. I want my best friend back. My angel."
Why couldn't he just have him? "He's no good for you! I can-- I told Bill, I can tell! I know you, Aziraphale!"
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"Shit." Bill said simply as he immediately reached out to grab onto Crowley before he stormed off. It was a party for Newt and Anathema, not a party to start a feud and a fight.
"Yeah, I didn't know." Newt apologises as he held up his hands. He really didn't - but he had a feeling that Anathema knew. She must have. She was so cunning.
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And for how long. Two years, a mission lasted two years. Even with the six months training period, that had to mean that Aziraphale was back by now. Working-- Wait, didn't Anathema work at a library?
"Fucking hell!" He was back by now! Aziraphale was back from mission. "Where is he? I'm gonna--"
He noticed the way Newt looked at him, Bill's hand tightening on him. So he forced himself to appear calm. "I'm just curious. To catch up, you know?" Fucking bastard.
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Yeah, Bill caught it. And if Bill caught it, Crowley would too. "...Them?"
"Fuck. Damn. Sorry, I didn't want to say, it's just -- well, he brought his... boyfriend." Well, wasn't this a mess. He anxiously looked behind in, towards the room he knew Aziraphale was in, already wondering if he should go and warn the other to jump out of the window and run.
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He noticed what direction Newt was looking and, quite suddenly, pulled away from Bill to stalk into that direction, right into that room. "Aziraphale?!"
He wasn't going for subtle. Anathema was standing with Aziraphale, while Dallen was freshening up in the bathroom, according to him, and now she took a step back. Ah. Stage was set.
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In hell. Fuck - what was Dallen going to think? He would also yell. God, why do you hate him?
He tried to get some sense of composure, attempting to smile politely. "A-Ah. Crowley, hello-- Hi. Long time, no see..."
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Aziraphale looked as always, almost unchanged. The way he remembered him. Soft blond curls, that dimple, the perfect lips that were always a tease that he never seemed aware of. Crowley supposed he hadn't changed much either, dressed all in black, sunglasses. He had a new tattoo that was supposed to celebrate getting over Aziraphale but that really just reminded him of Aziraphale every time he saw it. A feather on his inner forearm. Visible now, as he gesticulated and had short sleeves.
"Since when are you back? Yesterday? Didn't have time to pick up a phone yet, did you? Didn't have time to hit me up. Just a quick: 'Oh, hi, Crowley. Really missed you on that mission. Sorry I missed your six-hundred sixty-six calls, by the way.'"
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"Please don't yell, it's not very becoming, is it? We could talk privately. Outside, even. It's Anathema's day and I just -- this isn't very -- let's not, okay?"
He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to reject Crowley again and again, it was hard enough the first time. He held up his hands, apologetic. "I said all I want to say."
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Somehow, this was worse. Worse than just assuming that maybe Crowley had had someone before him. This was knowing it. This was knowing it and knowing that it was someone like that. Someone so different from him, someone wild and dangerous and definitely an outsider. His sunglasses were so stupid.
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As subtly as he could, he tried to slip the ring off so he could hide it. He didn't like the idea of losing it, it was the closest thing he would ever have to something from a loved one that he could wear and feel some sense of love and pride.
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He certainly sounded disgusting. "You're disrespecting everything you and I have built. Walking off into a bedroom with him when he looks like that. Dresses like that. How am I supposed to trust you?"
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It was a lie but whatever, he just didn't want to lose it. "I don't disrespect what we have, I love what we have." He could have done without the yelling, mocking him in front of mutual friends and the hiding but, well, how was he supposed to know that he didn't like all of that either unless he tried it first? Looking down, he twiddled his thumbs. "Can we just go home?"
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He shook his head angrily. "Don't you know that redheads are punished by God? Cain was a redhead! So was Judas!"
It was very ungodly. "And those awful glasses. He looks like a criminal. He is one, isn't he? How could you?"
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Crowley was special. True love. God, what was he doing with Dallen? He eyed up the house, part of him wondering why he didn't just get out and go back inside.
"It was before you. I left him to go on the mission and become a better warrior or God, as it were. I told you I was tempted back home, I was and I believe I am--" Over it? As if. "I believe I am stronger."
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"Clearly he can't be that over me if he's still wearing the ring I've given him three years later. That's pretty conclusive. I think."
They were walking in the park, close by the ducks, mostly walking rounds. He had a feeling Aziraphale might come here, a feeling based on some well-placed questions he had posed to Anathema. Bill didn't need to know that that was why they were here.
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"Even if he isn't over you, the way he dumped you? Fucking hell, I would wring his neck. Why the fuck would you want him back?"
Rolling his eyes, Bill kicked a nearby can ahead of them, turning around to kick it to Crowley like it was a football, trying to get him to engage a little with something more fun and playful.
"Look, as I was saying. Man U is playing so let's go to a pub together. A gay one. See if we can't get you a new boy."
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So, yes, he was angry, but less with Aziraphale directly and more with the circumstances. "Anyway, it ain't even about getting him back and all that rubbish. I just want to know he's all right. And happy. Because I don't think he is. That bloke ain't right for him, that stupid American toerag."
He kicked the can back without really thinking about it. Friendship with Bill came with a lot of kicking of things, he was a lad like that. "What kind of new boy would I meet at a pub watching Man U?"
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Bill kicked the can back, grinning at Crowley. "Yeah, yeah, I know, you fucking hate the new boyfriend - I heard about it but come on, there's no way to know that. They might be close. Might be mad about each other. The party was weird circumstances, you kinda rubbed some salt into wounds is all. No one likes meeting the ex."
So far, Dallen sounded fine. Bit a prick but then, who wasn't these days. "Come on, forget him and let's find you a bloke I can get on with. I could never make heads nor tails of what Aziraphale was saying to me." So it could only get better. For him.
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He took Bill's upper arm and led him along. He was pretty sure he had spotted a certain shade of cream in the distance. The object of his interest might finally be coming. As he looked out at the lake to avoid alerting Bill to Aziraphale coming closer too early, he talked again. "What about Barty? You say there ain't one true love. What if he up and left you? Without warning. Just like that. You getting over it?"
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That he knew for sure.
"Why are we feeding ducks? I ain't got nothing for the ducks." Bill pointed out as he patted himself down, turning his head to the side to see if there was any leftover food. Then he saw it too. The flash of cream. Then he heard a voice, off in the distance, and he felt it all adding up instantly.
"Dallen! Dallen, please! Slow down, I can't--"
Yeah, that was definitely Aziraphale, wheezing somewhere in the distance. Bill turned his head in time to see a very fit looking guy jogging along and Aziraphale, slowly flagging behind, looking utterly miserable. He sighed loudly. "Are you fucking kidding me, Crowley?"
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Dallen had texted him several times today but he had told him he had a shift until late because of them having to 'move around the library layout'. Whatever it took to get some peace. Dallen was all over him lately, smothering and suffocating. He had been bad tempered, a bit violent and very critical for a long time but the possessiveness was new and not loved.
He locked his phone away in the back office and sat there, on the floor, surrounded by books that he was rearranging and just enjoying the blessed silence.
It was bad, wasn't it? That he just really did not want to go home. Not at all.
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He walked into the library, flinging the door open, then shut it behind him right away, turned the key in the lock, took said key and, while looking right at Aziraphale, wiggled it behind the waistband of his very tight pants to keep it out of reach. At least out of appropriate reach. Honestly, the dance he had to do simply to get it into his pants was already past bordering on obscene and fell more into straight up awkwardly erotic. Just how awkward or how erotic one might perceive it was probably tied directly to the degree of attraction to Crowley.
"Angel! I'm-- Er, you can't shut me out anymore. I shut me in. Us in. Together." Obviously. "Ha!"
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That was that then, was it?
"Good lord, Crowley, are you drunk?" He wasn't sure how he felt about any of this but he was a struggling to know how to appropriately handle this. Slowly, he put the book aside and got to his feet, holding his hand up. "Please -- Please remove the key and unlock the door, you really must get fresh air and sober up."
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He hated it, but he'd got the message. "But why would you want to be with that-- that berk?! He's the worst! He's some all American wannabe toothpaste model!"
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Then he put his hands on his legs, trying to keep himself balanced. "Do you want some coffee? It would help..." He didn't know how to tell Crowley that he was worth a million Dallens but he felt it couldn't help, could it? It was all too late.
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Why couldn't he just have him? "He's no good for you! I can-- I told Bill, I can tell! I know you, Aziraphale!"
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