for lunchbreaks

[sauntered_downward]

Follows this.

Crowley fell asleep before dawn. And, which was rather unlike him, he did dream. He dreamt of the flamethrower, of the things it could do. He dreamt of watching all of the angels at the far end of the flamethrower, watching them all burned up to crispy little cinders through the power of Hellfire.

And then he imagined the barrel of the flamethrower, pointed at Aziraphale. The angel stood there, hands up, innocent of any charges, but with the weapon that Crowley had made facing him. And then, the trigger, and then----

Crowley jerks awake with a start. He didn't dream a lot. But when he did, it was rarely pleasant. Dawn was beginning to stream in through the windows. The miracle would only last until morning, they didn't have much time.

"Angel?"

Comments

[sauntered_downward]

All his days. Crowley thinks about it and, yeah, that sounds pretty fantastic. When he originally wanted to run away with Aziraphale, that was always part of the idea. Never be without him, because that would just be unthinkable. Now, they did have that option, but they could do it here, on Earth.

"I'm afraid you're rather stuck with me," he agrees. He runs his hand through Aziraphale's hair.

"We'd have to get our own place," he says. "So we don't have to split our time among two different flats."

[lunchbreaks]

"Oh," Aziraphale says, contemplating. "Maybe somewhere down here then. It's so lovely. We could walk to the beach, and I could fly to the shop. No traffic," he adds.

"You'd really want to? Move in?" he asks, holding his breath. That sounds a lot like a strong commitment, and he for one, is ready to make it. He'd be ready to carry Crowley into a church if that was what he wanted at the moment.

[sauntered_downward]

"Don't make it weird," Crowley teases. "It's just...better if we were. Besides, I've been needing to get out of that flat for a while. There's...well, there's..."

There's really nothing wrong with the flat, it's just not a home. It never has been. It's just a place he goes to sometimes to watch television and keep his plants.

"Noisy neighbors," he fibs, because he needs something to be a reason to not want to stay. "And here would be nice. Could drive the Bentley in if I wanted to come into town."

[lunchbreaks]

Noisy neighbors? Aziraphale practically rolls his eyes. But he'll let Crowley come tell him when it's time, and take his hand. "Alright. Let's buy a house. A nice cozy one, and we'll fill it with all your plants, and a lot of my books," he adds. And it'll be the place they come home to that'll really feel like a home.

He'll even get one of those kitchens with a working oven and a waste disposal in the sink.

"I'd like a fireplace. Oh, and nice big windows looking over the back garden."

[sauntered_downward]

"A garden." Crowley hadn't even thought about a garden. All the better, places to grow new plants. And places to plant bad plants who haven't been good enough to be inside but not bad enough to go into the garbage disposal. "I suppose we'll plant an apple tree in the middle of it?"

He imagines Aziraphale, reading by the fireplace, while Crowley watched him, or watched a little television, and the scene is so domestic, so wonderfully quiet and retired, he can't help but adore it.

[lunchbreaks]

Aziraphale can't wait to spend an eternity reading by the fire, noticing Crowley in his presence, depositing his head in Crowley's lap and being on the receiving end of gentle scalp massages as he reads. He can't wait to come home from a long day at work to an occupied space, a demon to embrace and to slough off all the worries of the day with. He cannot wait to attempt to recreate some restaurant dish they both loved and nearly burn the place down, or meet the neighbors and host game nights with them, or just take a day off and convince Crowley to stay in bed a little longer.

No, this is day one of the rest of their lives and it's marvelous and thrilling as a concept.

"Yes, an apple tree would be nice. It is what brought us together, after all."

[sauntered_downward]

If Aziraphale even thinks that he's ever going to get Crowley to do anything with his neighbors, especially game night, he is truly one naive angel. But Crowley will never take that sort of dream away from him, not while he's busy planning the rest of their lives together.

He'll make sure the apple tree knows its place in the world, though, and only grows the most delicious and beautiful apples. He wonders if Aziraphale will have a problem with how he grows his plants, but decides they'll cross that bridge when they come to it.

"Certainly didn't imagine this back then," he says.

[lunchbreaks]

"No," he says. "I suppose I didn't either. Thought nothing of the sort for the next few thousand years, actually." He grins as he considers how far they'd come together.

He reaches up and laces his fingers through Crowley's hair, giving it a little tug. "Your hair was longer then," he muses, remembering how he had looked standing on the wall with the full yellow of his eyes. And then, in Mesopotamia, circling around Aziraphale such that he hadn't quite gotten used to the act yet. He had been beautiful then, too, and every time Aziraphale had seen him thereafter.

But he did miss all those waves.

[sauntered_downward]

He wonders if Aziraphale prefers his hair long. Crowley has had it all sorts of lengths over the years, and he imagines as they grow he'll do all sorts of things to it again and again. That's one thing about Crowley and his look, it'll never be the same twice. Aziraphale has always been a constant, which has always been part of his charm.

"Is it time for me to start growing it out again?" he says, voice slightly teasing. "Because I don't know if I'm ready to go back into curl maintenance."

Of course, one of the best parts of being a demon was that he rarely had a bad hair day. It always fell where he wanted to, whether he used product or not.

[lunchbreaks]

He does, in fact, prefer Crowley's hair long, but he would never encourage him to do anything he didn't want to (unless, of course, it was for the greater good-- but then it wasn't for him, was it? Unless it was, also of course, about something that he couldn't just miracle into being himself, which did happen a great deal and-- alright, alright, he could very easily manipulate Crowley into growing his hair out, but.)

"Only if you want to, dear." But the look he gives Crowley is so very affectionate that he thinks he might be doing the manipulating thing even when he doesn't mean to.

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley's lips curl into a small smile. Oh, this means the next few centuries of long hair again, doesn't it? Not that he minds. As long as he has something to do differently to it each time, Crowley can handle that.

"Did you want to swim?" he suggests.

He thinks about his Instagram, void of anything but a few selfies he's posted, and considers that now, now that they're officially free, he could post a picture of this holiday to it. A picture of Aziraphale out on the water. Or a selfie of the two of them together. After all, there hadn't been a picture of them together ever taken, not in their entire lives.

[lunchbreaks]

"Oh, yes, we are right here at the ocean. Come with me, won't you?" he asks, and don't make him pull out those eyes again.

He isn't even thinking of recording their time together because they never had, though of course there was one series of portraits they'd sat for together that he recalls fondly. If Crowley explained it, it might even inspire Aziraphale to get a cell phone just to take and post images of them to the entire world.

But right now, the entire world is right here on this beach, asking him if he'd like to go swimming.

Aziraphale extends a hand.

[sauntered_downward]

"Oh, I might dip my feet in," Crowley says, though he's a bit reluctant. That involves all sorts of sand and water, and he's much more likely to just sit on his phone under the umbrella and watch.

But then there's Aziraphale, hand extended, asking him if he'd like to join him. And he's supposed to somehow say 'no' to him. He lets out a long, well put-upon sigh, and takes the angel's hand.

"Not actually swimming for me," he assures him. "Just getting near the water."

[lunchbreaks]

"Do you not know how to swim, Crowley? It's very easy, I'll teach you." He has no idea why his friend is so averse, but he does suppose that he's never quite liked water very much. Aziraphale had never asked, because those were, again, just little things about Crowley that he could keep to himself if he wanted.

Aziraphale laces their fingers together and leads him down to the edge of the water, letting his toes sink into the sand.

"I only want to go as far as you do," he says. They've spent so long apart, he doesn't want one more for maybe at least a week.

[sauntered_downward]

"Of course I know how to swim," Crowley says, a little defiant. "I just..."

He what, exactly? What, apart from his desire to not have to get out of his comfortable clothing? Not be silly, because that is something that Crowley most definitely doesn't do? Still, he can't let Aziraphale not enjoy himself on the beach. He'll only be a spoilsport in the most important of circumstances.

"Come on, then," he says, heading towards the water. For a being made of evil and fire and all that, he was far too soft for one angel in particular.

[lunchbreaks]

"But you're wearing your nice clothes," he protests, though it is Crowley's choice if he wants to get his jeans and his nice jacket all wet. He'd definitely want to hang that up first.

And truly, it wouldn't matter. Aziraphale has been to the beach a million times, he's played in the water and he's traversed so much of it. There was that time he served in the British Navy once, and he'd been the only one who'd known how to swim strongly.

Crowley just really likes to give him what he wants. There's honestly nothing Aziraphale can find disagreeable about that, but he does want Crowley not to ruin that nice jacket at least, he's been wearing it for only five years!

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley takes off his jacket and tosses it aside, rolling up his sleeves. He rolls up the cuff on his trousers, and gives Aziraphale a little pose. There. He's water-ready.

"We live out here, you might get me into swimming clothes eventually," he says. "But not today, angel."

He takes the angel's hand again, curling their fingers together. The day is warm and bright, and while his sunglasses are normally completely unnecessary, he's actually pretty grateful for them right now.

[lunchbreaks]

"Oh?" he asks, because there might be a distinct possibility that he does get Crowley into some swimwear, and he very much likes the sound of that. He's beside himself with smiles when he walks with Crowley into the water, just a little bit, not too far out. It's refreshing, and makes Aziraphale feel so blessed to be alive right now, to have lived to see this again.

As he thinks about it, his smile fades into one that's much more subdued, and as the waves roll in and out, he feels his eyes get a little misty. "We made it," he explains before Crowley can ask. "You and I, we made it."

[sauntered_downward]

They did. They survived the apocalypse. The literal end of the world. And it was then, and then here they are. Standing on a beach, and the world was saved. And now they even had God's blessing behind them.

So why did Crowley worry that something else would happen? That this couldn't possibly be it? That there had to be more coming? He tries to push the feeling away, the concern that there's more to come soon, and focus on the now, on the angel with him and the place they are. But it's there, under the surface.

"We did," he says. "We're free of it now."

[lunchbreaks]

Aziraphale, finally, blessedly, notices that Crowley isn't quite as moved by all of this as he is, and he blinks away his tears and he just very firmly agrees, "Yes. Yes, we are." He stands with Crowley in the water, and leans his head against one of the shoulders that's trying to hold too much. "We're free now."

He is content to just stand like this awhile, and he drapes a hand over Crowley's waist and just takes a moment as if waiting for the tide to come in.

[sauntered_downward]

It's all Crowley's ever wanted. All he's ever wanted is to be with Aziraphale like this. He's stared at him longingly for centuries---longer, really---and wanted him, but never been able to cross that divide. There was always their sides and their natures and how they couldn't possibly really be friends, let alone anything else. And now here they are, lovers. Lovers, and Aziraphale loves him as much as he loves Aziraphale. He should be more than content. He should be positively blissful, dancing up and down the beach.

Instead, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something, anything to happen. Because it will, of course it will. Nothing this good ever happens to Crowley. He never gets this lucky.

"So we'll get a house," Crowley says. "Out here. Retire, away from it all---except the bookshop. And what else? What do you want to do next?"

[lunchbreaks]

"What next," he considers. "Maybe I'll take a hiatus from the bookshop and we'll travel, away for the winter, what do you think? There's so many places I haven't been for so long," he muses. "Then when spring comes, we'll settle on down here and we'll get you a garden. Maybe with a hot house, I think you could grow so much. We'll have to plant an apple tree, of course."

"Then... I don't know what after that, we'll see." It's too soon to think about other things, really. He's still reeling from the idea that they can hold hands in public. Which, speaking of. "Maybe we should introduce ourselves to the humans as angel and demon. Re-introduce. Come out, I guess."

[sauntered_downward]

Travel. California. Then elsewhere. There're a lot of places they've both seen, but they've never seen them together. And they could, now. See them all together.

"Do you think that's wise?" Crowley asks. "A lot of people will see us as the enemy, no matter what you did back there. They saw too many of us in the sky."

He considers the sky, considers what they have right now. "Almost might be nice to just blend in, be a couple of human blokes for a bit. Go on holiday, buy a home. I don't know. Get married. Whatever it is humans do at this point."

[lunchbreaks]

"Well I think they ought to know that we--

--I'm sorry?"

He stares at Crowley, hand still on his waist but leaning back to look at his face. "Okay," he settles on, returning to his spot. "Okay, we can do that." Normalcy did sound nice, and anonymity sounded nicer, though he knows that won't be for long. They couldn't even walk through Tadfield without being noticed, and Aziraphale had rather thought of coming out as pulling off the proverbial bandaid.

"We'll do the decent thing and get married," he says, totally nonchalant as if he wasn't aware of how long Forever was. "But I'll want a proposal."

[sauntered_downward]

"I wasn't going to do it because it was decent," Crowley says. "I don't do things because they're decent, you know, as a rule."

No, to be honest, it just sounds nice, being married to Aziraphale. Living a life like that. Making sure that God knew he picked the angel, and that he wasn't giving him up under any circumstances.

"A proposal?" Crowley adds, glancing down at Aziraphale. "Something with a ring and...extravagant?"