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salutosinedelectat
Jul. 20th, 2019 05:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Follows this.
They couldn't just teleport themselves there. Any miracles, demonic or otherwise, would attract too much attention. No, Crowley was actually going to have to sit there, plugging their information into an online search engine, and do it all manually. Fluctuating airline prices were demonic work, and right now a trip to Japan was over six thousand pounds more expensive than if he had bought it three days earlier, which was totally outrageous. Crowley didn't know a lot about money except what it made men do to each other, he'd never had to. But now, making money appear out of nothing could turn the wrong eye on them if he wasn't careful.
Luckily, he had quite a few credit cards that never needed paying or had a limit on them. They would work in a pinch for a moment like this. He didn't know if that sort of perk-of-being-a-demon could ever be taken away from him, but he hoped not.
The flight itself was a long one, and Crowley settled himself in for it by making sure they were flying at least first class. That way they could see everyone coming at them and have a few glasses of wine on the journey.
"I don't think they know about these passports," Crowley says. "They might, but I doubt it. I had them made back during the last World War, just kept them in good condition."
The second World War was something that Crowley took responsibility for, but he hated every moment of it, and what his side did to make it worse made him sick. He was more than prepared to hide away if he needed to when things went wrong back then. And, at the time, he had also created a passport for Aziraphale, in case he wanted to come along. No other reason for that, he told himself.
They couldn't just teleport themselves there. Any miracles, demonic or otherwise, would attract too much attention. No, Crowley was actually going to have to sit there, plugging their information into an online search engine, and do it all manually. Fluctuating airline prices were demonic work, and right now a trip to Japan was over six thousand pounds more expensive than if he had bought it three days earlier, which was totally outrageous. Crowley didn't know a lot about money except what it made men do to each other, he'd never had to. But now, making money appear out of nothing could turn the wrong eye on them if he wasn't careful.
Luckily, he had quite a few credit cards that never needed paying or had a limit on them. They would work in a pinch for a moment like this. He didn't know if that sort of perk-of-being-a-demon could ever be taken away from him, but he hoped not.
The flight itself was a long one, and Crowley settled himself in for it by making sure they were flying at least first class. That way they could see everyone coming at them and have a few glasses of wine on the journey.
"I don't think they know about these passports," Crowley says. "They might, but I doubt it. I had them made back during the last World War, just kept them in good condition."
The second World War was something that Crowley took responsibility for, but he hated every moment of it, and what his side did to make it worse made him sick. He was more than prepared to hide away if he needed to when things went wrong back then. And, at the time, he had also created a passport for Aziraphale, in case he wanted to come along. No other reason for that, he told himself.
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Date: 2019-08-09 03:07 pm (UTC)They almost had that taken away entirely. Destroyed. And they almost payed for their indiscretions with their lives - they were supposed to be taken out of existence entirely.
And he could forget all of that. In this moment, he could forget, when the silence falls between them, when it's too dark to see his eyes, when he can't tell if the music's still playing. He could forget all of it, when the demon leans in and he almost expected something else, and didn't find himself flinching away, not running, just frozen in the moment.
He forgets to breathe. He doesn't need to, but he forgets he was doing that too.
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Date: 2019-08-09 04:33 pm (UTC)But, no, Aziraphale isn't telling him he's moving too fast. He's just there, not flinching away, not moving away. It's only Crowley stopping this now.
"Six thousand years, angel," he says, quiet under the music. "You must already know."
This time, when he leans in, he presses his lips against the angel's.
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Date: 2019-08-09 05:22 pm (UTC)Six thousand years, a good few centuries since he first had to face how he felt. Six thousand years, and only ever one person who could relate, even though they shouldn't see each other.
Six thousand years of conversations, drinks, lunches, dinners, late night talks in the back of bookshop, arguments, silences, rescues, surviving and living.
Six thousand years and almost losing it all, almost losing each other, but making it through, together.
Six thousand years and he thinks he's ready to meet him there.
He closes his eyes, and he can't tell what music is playing. He doesn't know modern music, he can't tell how close the singer is to being accurate. His hand is still on Crowley's shoulder, the other still on his arm. There's still a nagging feeling at the back of his head, telling him he shouldn't, telling him he should go, but, frankly, he doesn't feel like listening to it now.
The whole world blacks out into silence for a few seconds that feel like delightful hours. When he does pull back, he does so just barely, gently, opening his eyes to look at him, no words to be found.
This is all they should have said. Figures it happens in the most innocuous of places.
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Date: 2019-08-09 05:40 pm (UTC)Aziraphale looks up at him, and Crowley gives him a small smile. Not a smirk, not his usual flair of a smile. Just something genuine between them. He can't think of what to say at all, though there should be something to say, right here. Right in this moment.
But surely Aziraphale must know.
He moves his hand up from the angel's waist to cup the side of his face. That stupid face he's come to associate with all things good.
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Date: 2019-08-09 06:21 pm (UTC)The angel smiles, faintly, but fondly. A whirlwind of words in his head, but none to be used. Not here. Not now. But they're there. They don't need to say them, but they resonate all the same.
The moment is only broken when the song ends and other people in the bar start applauding. He looks towards the stage, remembering where they are, then looks up at Crowley again, smiling sheepishly.
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Date: 2019-08-09 09:23 pm (UTC)New music starts up, some song Crowley has never even heard of before, and everyone around them starts dancing again. The happy, crazy dancing from before, what he'd originally wanted to try to get Aziraphale to do.
Maybe now isn't the time for what he wants to say to him. Somewhere more private.
"Should we get out of here?" he suggests. "Coast might be clear."
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Date: 2019-08-09 11:38 pm (UTC)He has to clear his throat quietly, idly straighten up Crowley's lapels, even though there's absolutely nothing wrong with them, but it keeps his eyes and hands focused. "Yes. I do believe it is getting quite late."
Not that it matters. Never did.
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Date: 2019-08-10 12:02 am (UTC)Aziraphale is literally in his arms right now. Right now. And if Crowley can't do anything about it now, when will they ever? Another thousand years? Another six? If they even make it that long.
"Oh, fuck it." he mutters, and he leans in to kiss Aziraphale again.
/victorious airhorns
Date: 2019-08-10 04:32 pm (UTC)--and then he just...closes his eyes. Holds onto his jacket, gently, and, for a moment, he wants to keep forgetting. Keep himself from all the idle comments that mean nothing and go nowhere, from advertising the looks he can't make himself keep. For this moment, just this. This is all there could be, and he's more than fine with that.
AT LAST!
Date: 2019-08-10 07:54 pm (UTC)After all, demons don't love anything. And Crowley doesn't really like much of anything that isn't associated with Aziraphale. He's been soft for a long time, but he's not soft enough to think he loves things. Except Aziraphale. And if he could express how unique and special the angel is to him in this kiss, he would, and he tries to. He tries to share it.
Because, if this is all they ever have, Crowley wants it to be enough.
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Date: 2019-08-10 09:28 pm (UTC)But here they are. Here they are, and living years at a time, in a moment, all their looks and the more powerful times when things went unclear, unsaid. And he's holding onto the now, the Present.
Another moment, he doesn't know how long it lasts. Can't tell how people and sounds and things change around them. When he does pull back, barely so, he looks up at him again, and all he wants is a moment of peace, alone, with him. All he could give everything for.
"...Crowley-" He starts, muttered, but doesn't quite find the words even then.
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Date: 2019-08-11 02:58 am (UTC)"Crowley!"
Crowley has been so wrapped up in his moment with Aziraphale that he didn't even notice that the singing had stopped, that someone had taken the stage, had grabbed the microphone, and was now addressing the crowd. A few people in the audience are startled, a few are even afraid, and with good reason. Crowley turns immediately, putting himself between the speaker and Aziraphale.
Hastur.
GODDAMNIT HASTUR WHY
Date: 2019-08-11 04:43 pm (UTC)How many things can happen in one night? How many times--
He looks at Crowley, then stares at the Duke, not speaking, but wondering if any demon or angel would attempt to attack them directly after the trials. Had they seen through it? Did they know? Is this one alone?
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Date: 2019-08-11 05:51 pm (UTC)"There's a door in the back," Crowley says to Aziraphale. "Behind the toilets. I'll distract him, you turn and run."
He raises a hand up and a notecard appears, with the address of the temple on it, he thrusts it towards the angel.
"Meet me here."
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Date: 2019-08-11 10:44 pm (UTC)"--are you bloody mad? I'm not leaving you here by yourself." There's anxiety in his voice, sure, but quite a lot of assertiveness.
"And there's all these mortals here, we can't just--we can't do this here."
Because, you see, Aziraphale might think himself soft and a coward, but he's not letting Crowley to fight alone.
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Date: 2019-08-11 11:26 pm (UTC)"Hastur hates me, always has and he always will. He'll do anything he can to hurt me. That includes hurting anything I love," Crowley says, gripping Aziraphale's shoulder. "I can handle him, but I can't handle losing you."
Can he handle him? Of course he can, he tells himself. He's faced the Duke of Hell before and won. Mostly won. Got him out of the way for a while, at least. He can do it again.
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Date: 2019-08-12 03:33 pm (UTC)"No." He says finally, after a long moment of staring. But, of all people, Crowley might know how there are times when the angel is incredibly hard to sway. There's the right things to say, right things to use, sometimes, but not here. No, he's not leaving Crowley alone. Not now. Not here.
He goes to speak but he light from the flames are moving closer and the other patrons are running, and they soon will be discovered. So he grabs Crowley's arm and quickly rushes out of the dance floors, pulling the demon behind a corner with him. Not a good hiding place by any standards, but they need to think.
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Date: 2019-08-12 03:41 pm (UTC)"That is Hellfire," he warns the angel. "Any of that touches you---" It's like holy water to an angel, but he's certain Aziraphale knows that.
What can they do? There has to be something they can do, with their limited competence combined. He can't convince Aziraphale to leave, and he's not going to try to argue, not when they have such little time. All he can do is----well, not pray, that's not exactly Crowley's style, but hope, at least.
"What have we got?" he asks, letting out a reluctant sigh.
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Date: 2019-08-12 04:29 pm (UTC)Great. Yes, this is great, this is fantastic. Damn near perfect.
He tries to think, back pressed against the wall. "Magic." Obviously. "We get these people out of here and--and we go. Maybe back to the temple, oh--"
They don't even know if he still thinks they can't be destroyed by traditional means. He certainly doesn't actually want to know how it feels to be gently kissed by fire from the pits of Hell itself.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-12 04:44 pm (UTC)"If we can get him distracted enough, we should be able to teleport ourselves out of here," Crowley suggests. "Maybe only a block away from the temple. Give them a range where to find us, but they won't know the exact location. If I'm imagining right, they won't even see it, it won't even register to them. It should be safe."
Oh, but he hopes he's right.
He raises a hand, and a crowbar appears. He glances over the side of the booth.
"I'll distract him. He can't hurt me with that fire." Well, not much, anyway. "You get everyone out, then start towards the door."
no subject
Date: 2019-08-12 09:18 pm (UTC)"Crowley-" He instinctively grabs onto Crowley's sleeve, just a moment. Just a thought of what if this doesn't work? What if this is it? Concepts that drop into his stomach like ice.
Will he not get the chance to say it back?
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Date: 2019-08-12 11:33 pm (UTC)He looks back at Aziraphale. There's a chance---a very good chance---that Hastur will kill Crowley out there. This could be it. This could be the last time they see each other. This could be the last time he looks at his angel, the last time he sees him. But Aziraphale will escape, he tells himself. Aziraphale will live through this, and that's all that matters.
"I'll meet you at the temple," he says. "I'll be there."
He could tell him he loves him, right now. He could tell him that, but even now it's hard. Even now, there are so many things between them.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-13 04:18 pm (UTC)But he can't say it. He can't say it now. He can't say it, because he has to believe that they'll make it.
"I'm not leaving without you." Quiet, the bite taken out of it, but no less real. He means it, and he knows Crowley knows he does.
He lingers, but the sound of the bar being hit with a blast of fire snaps him out of it. Aziraphale lets go of his sleeve, keeps himself lowered, fumbling his way out to one of the corridors to find any hiding mortals.
" I'll get them out, you--you keep yourself in one piece!"
Please.
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Date: 2019-08-13 04:49 pm (UTC)Like now. Right now, he wants to say I love you, and Please be safe, and I'll come back to you. Instead, he says:
"Oh, have it your way."
And he steps out from the corner, heading over to face Hastur. The Duke is on the stage, setting various parts of the bar on fire, surrounded by the chaos he has created, laughing. Oh, he has such a backwards, unpleasant laugh. There's nothing but malice in everything Hastur does.
"Hastur!" Crowley calls out, brandishing his crowbar. He can do this, he thinks. He can get him talking, he can get him distracted. Give Aziraphale time with the humans, give him time to get them out.
"Crowley," the demon says, satisfied. He immediately throws a blast of fire at Crowley, throwing him back until he flies up, hitting the far wall of the bar. Crowley lands on the ground with an unpleasant thud, dropping his weapon.
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Date: 2019-08-14 09:01 am (UTC)He stops, hesitating, then pushes open the bathroom door, finding a small group of humans hiding from the commotion. "This way! Come on, quickly now," He signals them along, a mixture of English and Japanese as he guides them towards the back door, which miraculously swings open before any of them touch it.
He hears more voices from the kitchen, and he rushes in there to do the same, guiding them through, trying to cast a net over the building and try and sense any other humans.
The booths-- the private booths across the small building, he needs to check those, which puts him passing through the door to the main dancefloor. But it's stronger than him, the need to look in, to check-- to hope Crowley's keeping his promise of staying in one single physical piece.
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From:Old demon yells at cloud (and hole on the floor)
From:This is basically the story of Crowley's life as a demon
From:Still laughing at this
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From:Heelies backwards into the pits of hell
From:oh no dawg what's wrong
From:Just sprinkling a little more anxiety into their lives
From:it's okay they deserve it
From:I lost this tag once bc smartphone tags suck
From:lazarus forever because i've had that happen to me too many times
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From:That last line 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌
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From:/church icon
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From:Ziras gonna zira
From:Oh we wouldn't have him any other way
From:Re: Oh we wouldn't have him any other way
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From:Oh crowley honey it's okay
From:bb gonna explode from anticipation and nerves
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From:Anime moment
From:strong work boys
From:10/10 on that landing and for Aziraphale
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From:how do I type this while threading that 'ok this is smut but thats not what it means here BUT'
From:A++ you did just fine
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January 2020
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