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go_exchangeRecipient: fluffyteddybear
Rating: General
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley
Warnings: None
Summary: When Crowley is feeling bad, he turns to the stars to try and forget about his problems. Luckily for him, Aziraphale is always there for him, too, willing to watch the stars all night if that’s what it takes for Crowley to feel better.
Aziraphale stands halfway out of the door, one foot in the grass of the garden and the other still inside the cottage. It was growing dark, and the last time he saw Crowley, he said he was going to tend to the garden in the early afternoon.
“Crowley, dearest?” he calls softly, searching for him among the bushes and flowers. When there is no response, he fully steps out into the darkness, gazing upon the sunset. The edge of the horizon is a deep orange, fading off into a light, but not bright, blue, and eventually, that too fades into the rich darkness of the night sky. He follows the edge of the light with his eyes as he turns, the orange quickly giving way to only the faded blue, until he sees the ladder leaning up against the wall of the cottage.
With a sigh, he closes the cottage door and carefully climbs up the ladder, stepping cautiously onto the roof. He climbs to the top of the peak, scanning the other side until his eyes finally land on the dark silhouette he is looking for. A soft smile crosses his face as he carefully steps down to Crowley, who is laying on the roof with his hands folded behind his head and his sunglasses missing. He pretends not to notice Aziraphale, but that’s okay. Aziraphale won’t pry. He quietly sits down next to Crowley before stretching out as well, folding his hands over his stomach.
In silence, they watch the stars come out, the only hindrance being a few treetops covering the horizon. Still, Aziraphale waits. If Crowley wanted to talk, he would, given time. And, if he didn’t, Aziraphale would still be there with him; a comforting, familiar presence next to him.
“‘S nice,” Crowley mutters, eyes glued to the sky.
Aziraphale hums in agreement.
“You know –” He’s choked off by a small sob, and Aziraphale can tell he was trying to hold it in. “I didn’t even get to see them. During the Fall. There was nothing nice then.”
Ah. So this is what it’s about. Aziraphale scooches ever so slightly closer to Crowley so that their bodies press warmly into each other. He feels Crowley try and move even further into the touch too.
“It was just – clouds. The few times I could see the sky, it was bright. Then the clouds turned into smoke. ‘S nothin good in smoke.” He sniffs, trying to act casual.”It was the first thing that made me regret it all.”
That was news to Aziraphale. He didn’t know Crowley regretted Falling. Most demons just accepted it, letting it become a part of them. Now that he thinks about it, maybe that’s why Crowley is different from all the other demons.
“The first thing? Does that mean there was another one?”
Crowley turns his head to finally look at Aziraphale. “The other one was in Eden. When I met the most beautiful being in existence. And he’s an angel. But I’m a demon.”
“Oh, you sap,” he answers, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on Crowley’s chest. “That doesn’t matter, now. We’re on our own side, remember?”
He looks back up to the stars. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt though. All those years, trying to find wherever you were on earth just to sneak some time in with you. Too scared of rejection to voice anything. Content with just being friends for eternity, even if I yearned for more, because the thought of losing you hurt much more than pining.”
Aziraphale takes a moment to let this sink in. “My dear boy, why haven’t you said any of this before?”
“Too scared,” he mutters. “Too closed off.”
Aziraphale shifts again to lay his head on Crowley’s chest. “I’m all yours now. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Crowley chuckles lightly, pulling one of his hands from behind his head to stroke it through Aziraphale’s soft curls, using it as a grounding point to calm himself down.
After a few more minutes of silence, Aziraphale points up to a star in the sky and says, “Sirius.”
He chuckles again, and Aziraphale can hear the small smile in his voice as he says, “I see you’ve finally remembered that the North Star isn’t the brightest.”
Aziraphale pouts. “Well, it only makes sense.”
Crowley lets go of his hair to gently move Aziraphale’s arm so his finger is pointing at a different star. “That one’s the North Star.”
Aziraphale drops his hand and smiles – whenever Crowley gets like this, getting him to talk about the stars always helps. And he can tell Crowley is just getting started.
“Sirius is a part of Canis Major.” Crowley lifts his hand into the air, pointing at Sirius. The tip of his finger sparkles, and he starts to draw lines to the other stars in the constellation, leaving a shimmering gold trail in the air, connecting them. “And then, over here is Canis Minor.” The trail stops as he moves his hand to point further up into the sky, where it resumes drawing the second one.
“They don’t look like dogs to me,” Aziraphale mutters.
“The humans see it as more of an abstract thing than anything.” He taps the air with his finger, leaving a gold dot that starts to grow, swirling around in lines and curves until both of the constellations are surrounded by a golden dog, the lines of the constellation still prominent within them.
“I can see it now.”
“You always say that,” Crowley mutters, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.
The gold fizzles out and the stars come back into view, but Crowley is invested now. He points to a cluster of stars, three in a row, and says, “That’s Orion’s belt. Most people can recognize that bit, at least. It’s the easiest way to point him out.” He starts to connect the stars once more with the gold lines, but this time, before Aziraphale can comment, he taps the center of it, and it spirals into the shape of a well-built archer, complete with a bow.
Aziraphale hums his appreciation into Crowley’s chest.
This one doesn’t go away as Crowley starts to draw the next one, explaining, “This is Taurus. There’s a lot of speculation on which animal Orion is actually hunting, but the most popular one is this bull.” Another tap and the shape of a bull forms in the air. The constellations glitter for a few more seconds before they too disappear.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” Crowley mutters, his hand finding its way into Aziraphale’s curls once more.
“Do what?”
“Lay up here and pretend you like hearing about the stars.”
Aziraphale sits up suddenly, turning to scold Crowley. “Of all the things you’ve ever said, this has to be the worst! My dear, why would I ever have to pretend?”
“Because I never shut up about them,” he says, looking away. “And I do this every time I feel bad. Which is more times than I’d like to admit. And – and you come up here and join me, and listen to me every single time. It has to grow boring eventually.”
He gently places his hand on Crowley’s cheek, pulling his face back over to look at his eyes. Crowley is starting to tear up again, so, gently, he whispers, “Dearest, I could never grow tired of anything you do or say. I love to hear you talk about the stars because you’re so passionate about them. Just because I’ve heard it before doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it again, and again, and again.” He leans over and presses a small kiss to Crowley’s lips. When he pulls back, he wipes away the tears spilling onto Crowley’s cheeks with his thumb. “I love you.”
“I hate you,” Crowley mutters, but no matter how much he tries to fight it, the love-struck smile still glues itself onto his face.
Aziraphale chuckles. “I know. Now, won’t you tell me about Pegasus? I think that one is my favorite.”
“Alright, alright,” he gives in, waiting for Aziraphale to settle back onto his chest. He points to the stars, and again, the top of his finger sparks. “Pegasus is a flying horse.”
“Seems unconventional, doesn’t it? I mean, how big would their wings need to be to carry that much mass? It’s like a dragon; the wingspans would be–”
“Shh,” Crowley interrupts. “You’re ruining the story.”
“Oh, sorry.” He smiles into Crowley’s side. “Do continue, my dear.”
And he does. He retells the tale of Pegasus, and Hercules, and Perseus, and all the other constellations they can see as the night wears on. Eventually, when the last golden trails disappear from their position of hovering above their heads, and there are no more constellations to talk about, they settle into silence, holding hands and enjoying the peaceful night. A shooting star twinkles in its race across the sky, and as Crowley points it out, Aziraphale barely hesitates before wishing that they will always have moments like this together, no matter what the future holds in store for them. Eventually, the sky starts to lighten, and they finally watch the sunrise together, still cuddled in each other’s arms.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-11 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-12 01:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-01-01 07:50 pm (UTC)"I love to hear you talk about the stars because you’re so passionate about them. Just because I’ve heard it before doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it again, and again, and again." <3
And I love Crowley using his magic to draw the lines of the constellations—it's great imagery, imagining all the lines sparkling gold and silver against the velvety dark sky. <3