demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

Oh, you poor dear. [He shifts around until he's straddling Aziraphale's thighs again, serpentine enough to make the movement seem graceful. And then he holds his face in his hands and absolutely covers him in kisses, punctuating every one with an:] I love you.

[Butterflies. A ridiculous amount of them, to the point he can hardly contain himself. Never would he have imagined it of him, or that he'd want this, both silly and deeply sweet. By the time he's finishing, he's laughing and blushing all at the same time and then seeking to hide his face against his throat, because he can't take it anymore.]

What am I going to do with you?

[A soft murmur against warm skin.]

Aside from love you to the entropy death of the universe?

[Hey. It's romantic. For an angel.]

All of this is starting to thread back through and color other memories. Does that ever happen to you? Time bleed? It only happens when I'm very happy or very sad.

[The laugh and the blush were exactly what he was after. He winds his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders, holding him tightly.]

Anything you like, angel. [just a slight tease, a hint of a purr in it.] But that sounds like a start. It's as long as I plan to love you for.

[He's said as much to Pru, that this was forever.]

Oh, my memory's rubbish anyway, except for the important stuff. [Except for you goes unsaid.] What sort of memories is it coloring?

Mmm, anything covers an awful lot. [He gently lips the side of his throat, not quite over the spot, but close to it.]

As long as you're my last sight, I'll go happy.

[And perhaps it's morbid, but he can picture them entwined and frozen as the last of the motion and life comes to a true halt. Eternally bound.]

It's hard to describe. It's...a feeling. A blush. It paints everything more vividly, and...close. It makes me feel more connection in each of those moments. The thermos. The church. The way you danced across the floor because it was stinging your feet. Oh, I loved you so much in that moment, even before you saved the books.

I could have kissed you outright.

[And then he's on the spot, nuzzling, softly dragging his lips, breath warm through their part.]

My coat. Such a sweet kindness. You always had such a flair in your miracles.

[He presses a longer kiss, a more deliberate drag of both lips, a touch of tongue.]

I love you. [With it he sends a pulse of his love through his hold of him, a light flutter of it. Another. Another, each accompanied by whispers of the same. "I love you..."]

[Crowley hums a soft sound, head tipped to the side to grant him access. It might be morbid, but it's the best end they can hope for, a sort of quiet coming together as everything ends. They can't have a true eternity together, not the way they could in Heaven or Hell, but maybe that's better. They can appreciate their time together more.]

No wonder you like all that Byronic nonsense, you sound like you're one of them.

[He's a little breathless as he says it, half from the words, half from the touches. His grip tightens on Aziraphale's shoulders, fingers pressing in.]

I've flair in everything I do, thank you. Not only the miracles.

[Every wave of love draws a soft gasp as he squirms a little in his lap.]

Careful, angel, you're gonna give me a bloody Pavlovian reaction to that feeling.

Someone should romance you properly. It ought to be me.

[More soft "I love you's," more of the pulses, a little stronger now, deeper, but still only love, no sting of divinity.]

You say that as though it's a bad thing.

[He comes away from his throat to raise his head and look at him, his smile a full, sunny blossom that deeply reaches his eyes.]

I love you. [He presses it lightly over his heart, careful of the mark.]

I'd be alright with that, being romanced.

[He might agree to anything when he's being loved like this, in a way he can actually feel, a quantifiable sensation. It's not that he doesn't believe Aziraphale when he says the words, but it's different to sense it, the way he used to be able to sense God's love. Only better, because this is freely given, not something that was built into him.]

Could be, if you start breaking that out in public. [There's a huff, then he sighs.] That's not a suggestion.

[Despite all that, he's smiling, lightly touching Aziraphale's cheek.]

I love you, too.

Then prepare yourself. Challenge accepted.

[Is he ready? Is he?]

Mmm. No, I rather think this is just for us in private. I don't want anyone else seeing how you smile when I touch you like this.

[Not true jealousy. However, he does feel this is intimate, not a trick to pull on him or take him off guard around other people. Not only does Crowley have his pride, he can get anxious when he's vulnerable, understandably so.]

I know, and it's so lovely.

[He leans into his touch, still smiling. Rather than continuing with the separate pulses, he simply opens to him again, warm and effusive.]

This is always for you, whenever you want. It burns for you all the time. I burn for you.

[Crowley makes such a face, all scrunched up and fussy before he brings his hands up to hide it, muffling his laughter and hoping to cover the color on his cheeks.]

You're so bloody embarrassing.

[He's playing it up slightly, being over dramatic to see if it gets a laugh, but he is genuinely flustered, too. He drops his hands, holding them against his chest instead, as if he needs to keep his heart contained so it won't spill out with how full it is.]

How am I supposed to deal with all that, hm? I burn for you. You're killing me, angel.

Look at you, pretending like you're not eating it up.

[Oh, yes, he's laughing. He's charmed in seeing the blush. It's not the easiest thing, earning that.]

It's the truth. I have to deal with it. You may as well, too.

[He covers Crowley's hands with his in a gentle spread and rest of fingers on knuckles and the backs of fingers, feather light.]

Mmmnope, I don't have to, actually. I've a secret weapon.

[The secret weapon is that he leans in again, tucks himself under Aziraphale's chin and shifts, leaving a serpent draped across the angel's lap and resting against his chest. Crowley nudges at his throat, a little flick of tongue against his skin as though he needs to confirm it's him.

Now he's immune to being embarrassed. Somehow.]

Ohhh. I haven't seen you like this in such a very long time.

[He strokes down the scales and shifts him some until he's in a comfortable coil in his lap and a drape across his chest.]

You were so beautiful that first time you slithered up next to me. I felt you, of course, knew you weren't an animal from the garden. I thought to myself, My first demon. Prepared to be a bundle of nerves.

Until you transformed and had the softest eyes I'd ever seen.

[He lets out a quiet sigh. He's easy to get nostalgic.]

[His laughter is an impression of it, more than any true sound, but he knows Aziraphale will understand it for what it is. Even with the few people he allows to touch him when he's in this shape, he usually doesn't let them readjust him with the ease he lets Aziraphale.]

My eyes aren't ssssoft, they're scary demon eyes. All yellow and snake-y. [He can't huff, so he just sort of bumps against Aziraphale's jaw with his nose, trying to get across the same message.] I'd been sort of expecting a fight, you know, but you were all fussy and nice, had no idea what to do with you.

Yes, yellow and snake-y. And somehow still utterly soft. The moment you spoke, I knew I'd never fight you. I'd have talked to you longer if it wasn't for that blasted storm.

[He has never asked what Crowley's first impression of him was. He'd found it all rather embarrassing, having just given the sword away. It's nice in a way to hear he was just as perplexed by him.]

You're saying that 'cause I'd not figured out how to not be so expressssive.

[He was new to the whole face business and hadn't got the knack of keeping his expressions contained. Not that he ever really did figured that out.]

And if it wasn't for that blasted ssstorm, I mightn't have come back to find you again.

[The fact he gave the sword away was important, but Aziraphale offering him shelter had meant so much.]

Well, you were expressing something very nice, and I won't even add "for a demon." I've seen angels with much harder eyes.

[As in most of them.]

Really? [He thinks back on that day. What had he...oh.] The wing? You had such nice long hair. I'd hate to have seen you all bedraggled.

[Crowley makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a rumble, the sound reverberating through his body, and he doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he moves up to loop around the back of the chair behind Aziraphale's head, dropping his own head down to settle under his jaw on the other side. His tail lazily encircles his calf, wrapping him up from head to toe in a loose embrace.]

No one had been kind to me for a very long time. Not since I fell. Maybe even before then, really.

[And that's what Aziraphale had been. Just... kind. With no reason, no ulterior motive. The rain had come and he'd sheltered him without a second thought.]

[It's humbling to realize that something he'd done instinctively made such an impact. He'd not given it much thought that day beyond not wanting to let him get wet if he didn't have to. Ultimately, they'd both gotten wet. That rain came with driving wind, a true wrath of God storm if ever there was one.

He rubs the top of his head with his chin, a soft, affectionate caress, and rests both hands over the thicker parts of his middle in a comfortable curve.]

I never knew. I didn't think of such things much back then. What it would have been like for you, or anyone else on the other side. I only knew you weren't what I'd been led to expect. And I couldn't help but to wonder how many who gave such warnings had dealt with demons at all.

Not to say I wasn't wary. For a long time. I'd wager you were, too. Such a dance we had before deciding to make up some of our own steps. It was one of your best ideas.

[He likes being held this way, being able to talk when they're entwined. It's uncomplicated, he doesn't have to worry about what to do with all his limbs or wonder if his face is giving too much away. Sometimes he forgets that he really is a serpent, underneath it all. How comfortable he is now serves as a reminder, but not an unpleasant one.]

Well, you'd have been in for a different situation if it'd been any other of my lot. You're lucky, is all, ending up with the most charming demon trying to chat you up. [It's nice, too, to talk about this freely. They've discussed their past before, just not in such detail with regards to their feelings, their perspectives.] I was never scared of you, not after that first day. I knew you'd never hurt me, it was always everyone else that I had to worry about. The arrangement was just an excuse to see you more.

It would have been different for both of us if we had encountered any other of our compatriots.

[Most other angels would likely have picked a fight from the get-go, or been nasty about him being a snake. Or any number of other things.]

Don't think I don't know exactly how lucky I am it was you. I'm glad you weren't afraid.

[He colors faintly. He hadn't known that, either.]

Tricky. And it worked.

[He continues stroking him with his chin, a light, slow back and forth.]

Did I overwhelm you a little just now?

[As fun as the little trip down memory lane is, he doesn't want to really get too into discussing what ifs, especially not when it means talking about other angels and demons, so he leaves that part alone for now.]

You're not the only one that can be clever.

[To be fair, he was also kind of lazy and wanted to fob off some of his work, the main motivation was an excuse to talk to each other more, to spend more time together.]

At which point? With being a damn sap, or something else?

At the point when you decided to transform. Not that I'm complaining. I just want to be sure I don't make you uncomfortable by getting too effusive. Angel. We're prone to such things when we're happy.

[It was really when they'd both settled in London that the socializing ramped up. Now that he thinks back on it, he can't recall which of them moved there first. Not that it truly matters. It suited them both so well.]

Nah, I'm just playing silly buggers.

[It was just part of the dramatics he was putting on, though it is more comfortable to have certain conversations this way, when its impossible to tell if he's flustered.]

Is it alright? Doing this? Probably should've asked before I coiled up around you as if you're dinner.

[He'd just assumed that Aziraphale would be comfortable with him in any form, which he hopes is true, but still, he should've made sure.]

Good.

[He'd prefer to check than assume. He knows he was laying it on thick.]

Of course it is. It's still you. Feels rather snug, like an all over body hug. And it's...nice, having such a direct reminder of when we first met. I think about it often.

Now I'll think of it more fondly with the new context. I want you to be comfortable here, always. However that manifests.

Could wrap you up properly in bed sometime, if you want.

[The serpentine equivalent of a weighted blanket, with the bonus of conversation.

If he had the right mouth to do it, he'd smile at that sapinesss, but he contents himself with a nuzzle at his throat.]

I'm comfortable. I like it, too, being able to properly feel your heartbeat. Sssss'reassuring.

(duplicity) ic contact

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