"Well. Yes. Quite." What did he even say to that? He blushed a deep red and looked off elsewhere, unsure what else to do now. He looked around and then frowned in confusion. "Oh dear, I don't believe I know this area." They ran such a twisty turvy path that he lost track a road back. "I sure hope it's safe."
Anxiously, he pulled out his pocket watch and held it tight, drawing close to Crowley, trying to be protective. "I can blind anyone who comes at us, don't worry. We can find our way back."
"...you can blind anyone?" Crowley didn't feel especially unsafe. He usually hung out around here with Bill way later than this, sometimes smoking some weed, sometimes just talking. Talking boys, because that was one of the things they had in common.
And here he was now, with an awkward boy apparently trying to snuggle up to him or something. Crowley was too baffled to push him back. "How are you blinding people?"
"I have my torch. I can blind people temporarily so we can evade capture or attack. As you wish." Aziraphale clarified as he turned his torch on and shined it around the dark area, grimacing at the sheer amount of used cigarettes around here. "I can walk you back home and then I'll head to mine. I can't believe it's almost ten."
Aziraphale whined a little and closed his eyes, frustrated. "This is a complete nightmare. Michael will be furious. So will Gabriel."
Perhaps tonight was a night to go to Barty, not his home. Just to cowardly avoid his siblings.
"Uh-huh. Look, out of the two of us I'm the dodgy one, so how about I walk you back and then you leave me up to my wily ways while you tuck yourself in?" Seemed to make a lot more sense that way. Anyway, there were more important matters to discuss here. "Your siblings are called Michael and Gabriel? Damn. Whole family full of angels."
Should he be surprised? Probably not. "Are they all like you?"
What did that even mean, like Aziraphale? The real deal, he supposed. Innocent. Sweet. Really eager in all the wrong ways.
"Yes, my father had a theme. Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, Sandalphon. But not everyone has an angelic name. My brother, Bartemius, or Barty, does not. He is named after a certain blind man. The Gospel of Mark had a man named Bartimaeus healed by Jesus as he is leaving Jericho." Aziraphale explained as they walked together, happy to explain his favourite brother's name in great detail. Even if Barty hated it and would rather have any other name.
"Like me? Well, no."
Aziraphale said that with a dead certainty as he adjusted his nag and followed his new friend out of the dark alleyway. "They are all very -- different. They are much more -- devout. I suppose. And more focused. Active with the church. They don't believe in-in a lot of ... things." Aziraphale awkwardly explained, knowing he was weird and unusual. It wasn't something he was proud of. He knew what people thought of him.
"Really now? I thought the whole point of you lot was that you believed in a lot of things." A lot of rubbish, as far as Crowley understood, but believing, for sure. He doubted his family could be said to believe in anything, other than that whoever smelled the worst got to claim top bunk.
He frowned, thinking about something else. "Your brother's Bartemius?" Huh. How many of those could be running around? "That's so odd." He just didn't think someone from that family would be frequenting the kind of clubs where Bill had run into Barty. According to Bill, anyway. Maybe Bill was just full of shit.
"They believe God created the world and they believe the gospel according to the Latter Day Saints and all that is in there and -- erm, little else. No science, no reading, we don't have a TV, we don't have the internet either. Too, uh, too sinful." Aziraphale shrugged his shoulders. "I believe that if God did exist, he allowed wifi to exist and it's awfully silly to boycott it but ..." He was stuck in the church and he had no idea how to get out of it.
"I'm more like Barty in my thinking. I like to use knowledge and-and facts to inform opinions." Aziraphale was a reasonable person, was what he was trying to say. He paused and then frowned, looking confused. "You know Barty? -- Un-unlikely."
"Not personally. Mate of mine, they've hooked up." He assumed he'd have to translate that, probably not something that someone knew about in that environment. "Shagged." Wait, maybe that still wasn't a good explanation. "Er... got to know each other biblically?"
Was that better? He made a gesture to make things even clearer, then shrugged. "Or maybe it's another Bartemius. He's supposed to be a looker. Tall. Dark eyes." That was most of what he knew about how he looked. Well. That and the dick size, but he didn't have to discuss that with the potential brother. "He's clever like you though. Studies at uni."
"He studies law at uni, yes. Perhaps it is the same one. Oh, I do hope so. He has mates?Jolly good! I was hoping he would." Aziraphale smiled again, quite happy to know that Barty was getting out, meeting people, having, erm, urges. He didn't want to know about that, he just wanted to think of it all as mates and not think any deeper. "He's a very good brother. He really wants me to live with him but it's not that simple, of course."
Even so, he really wanted to. He was just a little scared. "I do so hope he finds someone to settle down with soon. He has been alone for far too long."
"Don't think he's really into that. More of the 'sending them home before breakfast' type." From what he knew, entirely second-hand. So who knew how true it was? He just liked to hear Bill's stories of his exploits because he was living vicariously. He didn't quite feel up to it yet, the clubbing leading to anonymous sex. Maybe he never would.
"You're lucky to have a good brother. You should go live with him. I'd move in with someone sane in a heartbeat." Or at least someone with basic hygiene.
"It's not a bad idea but leaving the church is not as simple as all of that and -- well, I'm sure you don't care about the religious side of my life. Or my life in general! Though I agree. Being with Barty is -- is nice. Stable. Easy." And being at home was getting harder and harder. Since the electric went out, it's been hell. He couldn't see anything half the time - hence the torch. Barty got it for him, so he could read.
Aziraphale put his hands in his pockets and looked at Crowley. "Do you -- Do you feel any better? I'm sorry you weren't doing so well before."
"...sure. I feel great." Of course he didn't. Admittedly, however, talking to Aziraphale had been a distraction. Crowley sniffed as he thought it all over. It was strange to think that someone like Aziraphale and him had something in common after all. Wanting to get out. He wondered who had the better chances. Probably the clever boy who carried home books more so than the loser who was going to see whether he could crash with some of the questionable friends of friends he had gathered over the years. "You shouldn't worry so much about others, angel. We've all got our own rubbish to deal with."
"I care about everyone. Even those I don't like. Even those who beat me up at school. I don't like to imagine anyone in pain." Aziraphale paused and hesitated, thinking back over their conversation and awkwardly playing with the rim of his coat as he thought things over. "I take it that you-- well, I mean-- you could-- uh." He didn't know how to ask but then he thought of a better way. "Crowley, do you by any chance have a mobile phone with you?"
He looked off in the direction towards the Tescos and the dread of going home was a little looming. "I was thinking I may call Barty. You could come. If you'd like."
And then he realised how assumptious he was being and panicked. "You don't have to come and hang out with my brother or-or me! I know I'm quite the, how do they put it, 'loser' but, if you fancy, you could. It's not school tomorrow so..."
"You care about everyone?" He let out a whistle, feeling oddly warm about it. Soft. Aziraphale really was an angel. "That's a lot of caring you're doing."
He did not care about everyone. And he had a lot he liked to imagine being a pain. Clearly he was no angel.
"I got a phone, sure." Crowley had suspicion kick in automatically, but that felt silly. What was someone like Aziraphale going to do, nick his phone? He got it out of his inside pocket, glancing around briefly before unlocking it and then handing it over. "I've got places to be. But I can wait around with you until he picks you up."
At least he assumed Aziraphale would be picked up. If he was a bloke with a car he'd pick someone like Aziraphale up, just so he didn't have a chance of getting lost.
"As you wish. Just wanted to offer." Crowley was sad, he didn't like the idea of him being alone but he figured there was a reason why he wanted to be alone. Or maybe he just had better friends and didn't want to be seen anywhere near him. People did not think anything flattering about him.
He took the phone and typed in the number he knew by heart, putting it on speakerphone so he didn't get his face to close to the screen.
When he saw Barty had picked up, he sighed in relief. "Barty, are you busy? I'm borrowing a phone from a -- a fellow... boy. Erm, can you pick me up tonight? I'm a tad late getting home and they may not let me in."
"I can pick you up. Where are you?" Based on the pause just before Barty responded, Crowley suspected that he might have more questions to ask but was waiting until after he had Aziraphale safely in his car. Smart move, honestly. He watched Aziraphale, hands in his pocket, wondering what it was like to be like him.
Wondering why he suddenly found him so endearing. When had that happened? He supposed it was hard to dislike someone with this much goodwill.
"I can walk up to the Tesco's, the one near the house. I'm currently on the estate next to it but don't worry! I had a torch and a friend -- well, not friend. School-colleague. He's helping me." Aziraphale clarified as he smiled at Crowley and gave him a thumbs up. See, he covered for it, he didn't bring down his rep. "We can meet shortly."
Barty hung up swiftly, as he did often, and Aziraphale handed the phone back. "Thank you so much. I really didn't fancy walking all the way home, just to find it locked. They tend to lock the door at ten and sleeping in the shed is ghastly."
"All locked up at ten, eh? Pretty sure at my place the party's only getting started." And was he ever not in any hurry to join it. He supposed he had some time to kill for the moment at least, waiting for Aziraphale's brother. However, he was also painfully aware that they didn't actually have anything much to talk about. "So."
He walked a few more steps, sniffed, and kicked the ground, getting closer to the Tesco slowly. "What books did you get today? Heavy bag and all. Anything... fun?"
"Oh yes, I got three fictional books. One murder mystery, two fantasy. Then I got a book on French, a book on rare minerals and gem stones and, finally, a book on botany and gardening." Aziraphale came a halt in the car park of the tesco's. It was dead here, no cars about, so he sat on the floor of the car park and unzipped his books to proudly show Crowley what he had in more depth.
"I have Agatha Christie, it's a fun one. And then there were none. Sounds exciting, yes? Then I got two fantasy books I don't know yet but I rather like the art on the covers." He showed off the covers to Crowley excitedly and stacked them neatly on the floor by him. "This is just a boring phrase in French book but very handy. Not worth showing off. This one is My Book of Rocks and Minerals - Things to Find, Collect and Treasure."
He seemed in awe of the concept of this book, studying it again with a eager grin. Then he got out the gardening book and showed it off. "This one is about what you can grow in gardens, the families of them and species. What you can and can't eat. It's really interesting."
"That's cool." The plant book, he meant, although there was something... Well, something inherently and deeply uncool about Aziraphale's enthusiasm for all the other books that somehow was almost infectious anyway. So many books on the floor now, a whole pile of them. Why would he have a book on French? Who knew. He just liked it, for whatever reason.
"I got a plant at home. It's a fern." Was that an uncool thing to bring up? Probably, but whatever. Couldn't take it back now. "There used to be a florist in my street. I hung out there when I was little. Sometimes."
"Oh, woah, ferns are notoriously tricky to take care of. You must be quite skilled. I know you don't really like books as much but if you ever wish to, you can borrow any. This one might appeal a lot." He held up the gardening up and offered it out to him, insistent on Crowley taking it. Once he had it in his hands, he started to pack everything else back into his bag.
"You should browse while we wait. It's so fun. The illustrations are delightful."
Or, well, he believed they were anyway. He wasn't sure if Crowley cared as much. As long as he didn't break the book, he didn't mind if he handed it back.
Crowley opened the book up, looking through the index to find out whether they had anything on ferns. He hadn't known that they were hard to take care of. He glanced up, noting how bad the light here was, and then moved to take off his glasses, so he could actually see said illustrations. They were pretty nice. "Mine is more green. This one's all spotty and yellow there, I'd not stand for that."
Had to be strict with plants, that was his opinion. "I'll have more plants when I move out."
"Oh yes, you could get a nice balcony garden or even a house. It would be lovely, wouldn't it? I always wanted more plants too but I get upset if they die so I prefer not to attempt." Aziraphale laughed at himself as he got back up to his feet and came closer, shining his torch onto the book for Crowley so he could get some tips.
He also glanced briefly at his eyes, curious as ever - he didn't know what to expect. They were red, angry, a little yellowy at the side but they looked just fine. "Do you read much?"
Crowley scoffed and shook his head. "I don't read. What do I look like?" It was a pretty automatic response at this stage, but then he found himself hesitating for a moment. Aziraphale wasn't like... Well, not like anyone he knew, for one thing.
So he looked at him and gestured to his eyes. "They tend to dry out quickly when I read. Starts burning, can't focus on anything for that long."
Really not worth the hassle. "Also, obviously I'm too cool to read." But he said it with a bit of a self-deprecating smile this time.
"You could try audio books, perhaps. And I learned recently that the computers at the library have this built in tool in a 'browser window' that can read to you. Isn't that remarkable?" Aziraphale came a little closer to read the book over his shoulder with him. "Must be frustrating. I hope you get extra time on exams, it must be really difficult to keep up with everyone else."
Aziraphale studied the book for a bit longer and then looked directly at Crowley.
"You are, indeed, very cool. I'm sorry you had to spend an evening with me of all people."
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Anxiously, he pulled out his pocket watch and held it tight, drawing close to Crowley, trying to be protective. "I can blind anyone who comes at us, don't worry. We can find our way back."
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And here he was now, with an awkward boy apparently trying to snuggle up to him or something. Crowley was too baffled to push him back. "How are you blinding people?"
What a weirdo. "I'll walk you back. Relax."
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Aziraphale whined a little and closed his eyes, frustrated. "This is a complete nightmare. Michael will be furious. So will Gabriel."
Perhaps tonight was a night to go to Barty, not his home. Just to cowardly avoid his siblings.
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Should he be surprised? Probably not. "Are they all like you?"
What did that even mean, like Aziraphale? The real deal, he supposed. Innocent. Sweet. Really eager in all the wrong ways.
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"Like me? Well, no."
Aziraphale said that with a dead certainty as he adjusted his nag and followed his new friend out of the dark alleyway. "They are all very -- different. They are much more -- devout. I suppose. And more focused. Active with the church. They don't believe in-in a lot of ... things." Aziraphale awkwardly explained, knowing he was weird and unusual. It wasn't something he was proud of. He knew what people thought of him.
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He frowned, thinking about something else. "Your brother's Bartemius?" Huh. How many of those could be running around? "That's so odd." He just didn't think someone from that family would be frequenting the kind of clubs where Bill had run into Barty. According to Bill, anyway. Maybe Bill was just full of shit.
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"I'm more like Barty in my thinking. I like to use knowledge and-and facts to inform opinions." Aziraphale was a reasonable person, was what he was trying to say. He paused and then frowned, looking confused. "You know Barty? -- Un-unlikely."
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Was that better? He made a gesture to make things even clearer, then shrugged. "Or maybe it's another Bartemius. He's supposed to be a looker. Tall. Dark eyes." That was most of what he knew about how he looked. Well. That and the dick size, but he didn't have to discuss that with the potential brother. "He's clever like you though. Studies at uni."
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Even so, he really wanted to. He was just a little scared. "I do so hope he finds someone to settle down with soon. He has been alone for far too long."
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"You're lucky to have a good brother. You should go live with him. I'd move in with someone sane in a heartbeat." Or at least someone with basic hygiene.
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Aziraphale put his hands in his pockets and looked at Crowley. "Do you -- Do you feel any better? I'm sorry you weren't doing so well before."
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He looked off in the direction towards the Tescos and the dread of going home was a little looming. "I was thinking I may call Barty. You could come. If you'd like."
And then he realised how assumptious he was being and panicked. "You don't have to come and hang out with my brother or-or me! I know I'm quite the, how do they put it, 'loser' but, if you fancy, you could. It's not school tomorrow so..."
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He did not care about everyone. And he had a lot he liked to imagine being a pain. Clearly he was no angel.
"I got a phone, sure." Crowley had suspicion kick in automatically, but that felt silly. What was someone like Aziraphale going to do, nick his phone? He got it out of his inside pocket, glancing around briefly before unlocking it and then handing it over. "I've got places to be. But I can wait around with you until he picks you up."
At least he assumed Aziraphale would be picked up. If he was a bloke with a car he'd pick someone like Aziraphale up, just so he didn't have a chance of getting lost.
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He took the phone and typed in the number he knew by heart, putting it on speakerphone so he didn't get his face to close to the screen.
When he saw Barty had picked up, he sighed in relief. "Barty, are you busy? I'm borrowing a phone from a -- a fellow... boy. Erm, can you pick me up tonight? I'm a tad late getting home and they may not let me in."
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Wondering why he suddenly found him so endearing. When had that happened? He supposed it was hard to dislike someone with this much goodwill.
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Barty hung up swiftly, as he did often, and Aziraphale handed the phone back. "Thank you so much. I really didn't fancy walking all the way home, just to find it locked. They tend to lock the door at ten and sleeping in the shed is ghastly."
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He walked a few more steps, sniffed, and kicked the ground, getting closer to the Tesco slowly. "What books did you get today? Heavy bag and all. Anything... fun?"
Could books be fun?
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"I have Agatha Christie, it's a fun one. And then there were none. Sounds exciting, yes? Then I got two fantasy books I don't know yet but I rather like the art on the covers." He showed off the covers to Crowley excitedly and stacked them neatly on the floor by him. "This is just a boring phrase in French book but very handy. Not worth showing off. This one is My Book of Rocks and Minerals - Things to Find, Collect and Treasure."
He seemed in awe of the concept of this book, studying it again with a eager grin. Then he got out the gardening book and showed it off. "This one is about what you can grow in gardens, the families of them and species. What you can and can't eat. It's really interesting."
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"I got a plant at home. It's a fern." Was that an uncool thing to bring up? Probably, but whatever. Couldn't take it back now. "There used to be a florist in my street. I hung out there when I was little. Sometimes."
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"You should browse while we wait. It's so fun. The illustrations are delightful."
Or, well, he believed they were anyway. He wasn't sure if Crowley cared as much. As long as he didn't break the book, he didn't mind if he handed it back.
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Had to be strict with plants, that was his opinion. "I'll have more plants when I move out."
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He also glanced briefly at his eyes, curious as ever - he didn't know what to expect. They were red, angry, a little yellowy at the side but they looked just fine. "Do you read much?"
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So he looked at him and gestured to his eyes. "They tend to dry out quickly when I read. Starts burning, can't focus on anything for that long."
Really not worth the hassle. "Also, obviously I'm too cool to read." But he said it with a bit of a self-deprecating smile this time.
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Aziraphale studied the book for a bit longer and then looked directly at Crowley.
"You are, indeed, very cool. I'm sorry you had to spend an evening with me of all people."
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