Going behind your back? No thank you. [His brows drop down in a straight line.]
And I hope that you understand I don't want things taking place behind my back, either. If it's something it would bother you for me to see or know about, then assume it's probably something that shouldn't be happening. Flirty or otherwise.
I am sorry if that's what it felt like to you. I believed that you would know anything in front of you wasn't even slightly serious. That I'd not disrespect you that way.
It isn't going behind my back if I told you it's alright.
[Crowley sighs, casting a glance skyward in a habit that he hasn't been able to break for some six thousand years, before he crosses back to Aziraphale. Rather than take up his earlier position, he kneels in front of him, hands braced on his thighs.
It's an apology, of sorts, for getting angry.]
This is new to the both of us, yeah? What I know and what I know can be two different things. If that — makes sense.
[The line-brow deepens to a frown. He covers his hands when he knees.]
If it's something that bothers you in front of you, doing it behind your back is worse. Besides, how is that fair at all to anyone on the receiving end of it? We can do this only if Crowley isn't around. So then they're what, my dirty secret?
No. If anything, that would only give someone else the impression it is way more than it ever could be to me. I may be ignorant of a lot of social conventions. I know what makes a man a cad.
It does make sense. I'm not even slightly upset with you for how you feel. I hope you understand that.
[The demonic thing to say would be something about how there's nothing wrong with a dirty secret, but Crowley isn't in the mood for that role.]
I'm trying to understand.
[He turns over a hand, tangles their fingers together and squeezes gently. It's not easy, letting his feelings out into the open, trying to trust that they won't be taken as something wrong, but he's trying.]
And that's not... really how I see it, I suppose. [He's calmer, at least, that curl of unpleasantness-uncertainty-turned-anger isn't there anymore, now that he's decided to trust Aziraphale.] S'like, you don't want to know the details of what I'm doing with Martin, but it's alright that it's happening, cause you know about the... general shape of it, I guess? You want to flirt with people, have a bit of fun with 'em, that's okay. If it turns into more than that, we have another conversation. It's just different when I'm around cause it's — [Self-reflection sucks, actually, but he's trying to sort through his feelings. Trying to pinpoint why things bother him beyond just the fact they do.] It's as if I'm not.. enough. When I'm right there and you flirt with someone else.
[This truly is new. They've never gotten this far into anything like this without Crowley either shutting down, getting off a parting shot, and leaving or him turning cold and cutting rather than admitting his feelings are hurt.
He returns the squeeze and listens all the way through. He inhales slowly and leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead.]
My darling, that could never be true. And I would never do anything deliberately to send you that sort of message.
[He lifts his hands to kiss them, too.]
It pains me that it happened carelessly. It won't again. Not if I'm in control of myself at all. I need you to understand. With Mister Tarabatti... It hearkened back to a different time for me. I allowed myself to get caught up in the moment and have a dance. To interact in a way that I haven't in a very long time. I didn't allow it to get serious, and I wouldn't have. If anything, I believed the fact that you were there was ample indication it was a lark.
That was my mistake. I didn't know how you'd take it. And I apologize. I don't need or want anyone else. I never will.
[It's taking a considerable amount of restraint to not do any of those things, as much restraint as it's taking not to shift forms and hide under the couch because that would be easier than this open, honest discussion about feelings. It's an uncomfortable sensation, admitting this deep-seated fear. That he's not enough, that he won't ever be enough, because he wasn't enough for God.
But this is part of being together. It isn't just dates and sex and curling up on the sofa to read. They have to talk about these things, and they have to be honest. It helps that Aziraphale is being gentle with him, he smiles slightly at the kisses, lets his fingertips brush against his cheek.]
S'alright, you don't have to explain yourself to me, or apologize. Isn't like you did any of it on purpose. [That isn't something he needs, though he does appreciate the reassurance.] Probably didn't help that he's a bit like me, just with more gleeful murdering. [He sighs, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's knee.] But — thank you. For understanding. Think I'm just a bit sensitive, really.
Suppose 'cause it's a bit extreme. Not much can hurt me, can it? But you could.
[So... the demonic equivalent of intense BDSM, even if they're not actually doing anything dangerous, just being vulnerable around Aziraphale is a risk.]
That's her, yeah. Angels hunt witches, where she's from, she's had a run in or two. I told her you'd not hurt her, but...
[He bites back his, "But I wouldn't," because he already has. Twice. It doesn't matter that one of those times was an accident and the other was some other version of him. It was still him. The name proves that.]
Maybe in time. Or I can simply avoid her if she'd prefer. I don't wish to scare anyone.
He frowns thoughtfully, not wanting to throw out an answer before he has time to think about it.]
If they mean something to you, on some deeper level, then yes. I want to know. If it's in the future...only if it's something that gets emotional. I don't want you feeling like you can't talk to me about things or like you have to hide being hurt or confused. Or drawn to someone.
If it's casual and doesn't have much impact, I don't need to know unless you wish to tell me.
Will you want to know? There hasn't been anyone else so far.
None of the others have meant anything. Couple of them weren't — great, but it was a while ago now. I'll do that, though, tell you in those cases.
[He appreciates the reassurance around being able to talk about it, even if he might never take Aziraphale up on the offer, it's nice to know it's there. And those things can always be discussed without naming names, if it comes to it.
As for his own feelings on the matter, he considers it in turn, though in truth he's already thought about it, so his response comes quickly enough.]
About the same for me, I'd like to know if it's more than just sex. Or if something happens you need to get off your chest, I'm here, too.
[He nods. It's somewhat troubling to think of anything being disturbing to him, yet realistically, he can't expect to shield him from such experiences or fix the past.
He smiles faintly and squeezes his hands, bringing them together between his.]
Thank you, Love.
[Like Crowley, he's not sure he would bring it to him if he was burdened or upset somehow. He appreciates knowing he could.]
It's hard to foresee anything becoming serious outside of us, but if it ever did, of course I'd be honest.
[His eyes close almost on instinct as he leans into the touch, the last of the tension draining out of him.]
I've no idea what you're talking about. [His tone says otherwise, a hint of humor there. He's just playing at it because he's been vulnerable enough for this conversation and admitting that he's drawn to people who need kindness is a step too far.] We're both old, and anyway, don't think we'll seeing as much of each other. Martin's having some trouble with his boyfriend. [He opens his eyes just so Aziraphale can see him roll them.] Have I mentioned how glad I am I don't have to babysit you?
[And it wasn't unwelcome to hear it, despite the fact he had no doubts about this. His expression says he knows Crowley is full of it. It's enough of a call out for him.
It's unfortunate about the relationship trouble. There's much about human relationships he doubts he'll ever understand. He's much more capable of speaking to the rest of that.]
[There's always a moment where he feels that they've moved on from a serious discussion, and this is it for him. He adjusts slightly, listing to the side so he can rest his cheek against Aziraphale's thigh.]
[He combs his fingers through his hair and spreads it out over his thigh.]
From what you've said I won't be due another for a good long while. Although, you never know.
[He's back to coy. Privately, he's proud of both of them. They navigated treacherous water better than they usually do. Part of that has to come from not truly having a habitual place to retreat. He can create the illusion of the bookshop here. It isn't his bookshop. They aren't in London. Crowley can't swan off to France for a month or two of sulking.
And. As urgently as in the past eleven years, they still need each other now. To be on the same page. To understand what they're doing with all the rules changed. He is old. It's a hard adjustment. He doubts it's any easier for Crowley.
He continues the soft stroking while the thoughts drift.]
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