(no subject)

[pointisdolphins.livejournal.com]

Date: May 18, late evening/wee hours of the morning
Location: The bar
Status: complete
Summary: Crowley ventures out once again for that all important basic need--alcohol

Demons, much like men, come in a lot of varieties. There is the sort of demon that has never been in a bar and is old fashioned enough to have never tried eating, let alone drinking. (Not that this kind would need the stimulation anyway as they tend to be the brimstone spewing, hellfire breathing sort.) Then there is the sort that use bars (and in the old days hovels) merely as a work related tool. (Humans that live in bars sadly often are easily Guiled.)Finally, there are ones that actually drink for enjoyment, although these are few and far between.

Crowley usually fell into the last category, although he'd been around humans long enough that he knew about the human categories too. Right at the moment, the Serpent was less of a hedonistic drinker or a macho drinker and more of a depressed drinker. The kind that drinks to forget things, which was a horrible cliche that Crowley refused to admit had anything to do with him. No, he was going to drink, and if the angel wasn't there, well, that meant more alcohol for him. (If he and his counterpart had been strained with one another lately, that had nothing to do with it and is in fact a normal occurence in a frie-- A relat-- Between two beings that have known each other so long.)

The demon entered the bar the same way a lot of battle hardened soldiers entered a combat zone. Being paranoid was a necessary job skill for a demon, and Crowley was good at it. He took a seat in the corner so he could watch anyone that entered, miracled one of the bottles behind the bar into his hand and began to drink.

Comments

[stillnotfallen.livejournal.com]

"I'm certainly not playing at anything," he replied, starting to think that maybe Crowley was getting it. "And I'm not so liberal with my trust, you know. I only trust those who prove that they have my best intentions at heart."

He gently touched Crowley hand.

He had to get it now. If he didn't, he was either incredibly stupid or just not interested.

[pointisdolphins.livejournal.com]

There are pits* and then there are Pits**. Crowley felt suddenly as if he were falling into the later kind***. “I…I’m a demon,” the Serpent said, for lack of anything else to say. He avoided the angel’s eyes. This sort of situation was not a comfortable one for a being that basically existed in a continuous state of denial or died—AKA an average demon.

*The kind that open up when a person realizes they’ve crossed the Rubicon. (Which is an awkward metaphor considering the row Crowley and Aziraphale had over said crossing which was not settled until they’d gone through several amphorae.)

**As in the Pits of Hell. Or, worse, the Pit of Heaven—the hole that opened up beneath angels that were soon to Fall—the sort of pit one never got out of.

***Of course, at the very bottom of said Pit, in this instance, there wasn’t a very pissed off newly christened emperor of evil, there was a tiny gleam of something that might have been hope or relief or something else fluffy. Not that even this metaphorical part of Crowley would have Admitted It.

[stillnotfallen.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale started chewing on his lower lip in the awkwardness. At length he said, "Yes, you are. I've known that for awhile now, actually. Listen, ah, it's clear I've... misread the situation. I apologise."

He stared at the floor, feeling rather hopeless. Why couldn't he just say it?

[pointisdolphins.livejournal.com]

"What situation?" Crowley asked hopelessly in the tone of a demon who is also a male demon who happens to be in a Situation that obviously involved emotions and/or feelings in a way in which said man!demon was unsure about. "Why are you apologizing?"

[stillnotfallen.livejournal.com]

"Never mind," Aziraphale muttered. "I'm a fool, that's all."

He turned to leave. "I do trust you, by the way, and you've yet to make me regret doing so," he added over his shoulder.

Therefore, if Crowley was paying attention, Aziraphale had just said:

1) he trusted him;
2) he believed Crowley had his best interests at heart;
3) he didn't trust people easily;
4) he wanted his romantic interest to be someone he trusted; ergo,
5) he wanted Crowley to be his romantic interest.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

The poor boy is a bit slow on the uptake, he might not be rejecting you, he might just have no idea what you're saying...

Oh, who are you kidding, you silly thing.

[pointisdolphins.livejournal.com]

Actually, in Crowley’s view, what Aziraphale had just said was ‘Belial has no chance of seducing me, only someone I trust does. By the way, I trust YOU so therefore YOU could seduce me.’

“Oh fuck,” Crowley said.*

*If one was inside of Crowley’s head, one would know that those two words actually meant a lot more, much of which was blabbering gibberish, but some of which that, when translated, might have amounted to something like these statements:
-Oh bloody Hell he wants me.
-Well, of course he wants me; I am the Flash Bastard, Tempter extraordinaire, and damn hot. (literally)
-He wants me. It could Fell him.I would make him Fall.
-Chr-bl-da—Manchester why do I find the thought that he wants me so…appealing?
-He’s been tainted enough to Fall, the humans couldn’t have caused it in THAT way because he’s always been asexual therefore I tainted him.
-I’ve broken the Arrangement.
-I have no idea what to do.
-WHAT IS GOING ON?