Happy Holidays, Argyleheir!
Dec. 11th, 2005 11:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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argyleheir!
Title: Mistletoe
Gift Recipient:argyleheir
Author:beetle_breath
Summary: Aziraphale chickens out. Aziraphale/Crowley
Rating: G
Author's notes: Happy Holidays, Argyleheir! Enjoy, or pelt me with tomatoes when you learn who I am.
Aziraphale sat on the bench at St. James Park, throwing bread to the ducks. His counterpart sat beside him, receiving a dirty look from a passing mallard.
“I don’t have anything for you, shoo.” Crowley waved, looking annoyed.
“Crowley,” the angel said suddenly, “do you remember the first time it snowed?”
Crowley raised an eyebrow and made a face. Being a demon, he had an aversion to the cold, but especially the wet-cold. “What? Why are you bringing up that awful stuff? I hate snow,” he complained.
Aziraphale frowned slightly and gazed up at the sky. “But it’s so pure. It makes the world clean again. I would miss it,” he said wistfully.
“Yes, until dogs pee in it or cars drive through it and turn it into that disgusting grey sooty muck,” the demon replied. “I’m sure Pollution gets a kick out of that.”
Aziraphale sighed and shook his head, tearing off another chunk of bread and tossing it to an off-white swan. “You’re no fun, Crowley.”
Crowley could have sworn he saw the angel pout, but it appeared to be his imagination.
“Snow is wonderful. I think He had fun inventing it. It’s magical, Crowley!” the angel insisted. “Besides, the children love it—”
“You mean the Them? Yes, it’s quite fun to see them throw snowballs with rocks in them at each other and that other gang they fight with.” Crowley smirked, earning a frustrated noise from Aziraphale.
“Forget I even mentioned it,” Aziraphale shook his head and went back to feeding the ducks.
***
It was two weeks before Christmas and Aziraphale was busily putting up decorations in the shop. In the background, a throaty voice drifted from the ancient phonograph that sat in the back somewhere. All is bright… He stood on a rickety old stepladder, trying to hang a holly wreath. A bell jangled, signaling a customer. “Bugger,” he muttered under his breath. “Coming! One moment, please!”
“What have you done?” Crowley stared at the mess of lights and ornaments scattered about.
“Crowley! I’m in the back!” Aziraphale called, stepping down from the ladder.
Crowley followed the voice and looked around. “... What’s all this?” He motioned at the Christmas tree, complete with all the trimmings and he was certain he saw a nativity scene on one of the bookshelves. “Since when do you go all out for the holidays? This is so over-the-top. I thought you just normally put up a few simple decorations...”
The angel blushed. “Yes, well... it’s the first Christmas after… you know… the almost-Apocalypse. It’s different now,” he said quietly. “I want to do everything that I didn’t do before,” he trailed off, staring sideways at the door.
“Mmmmhmmm,” Crowley answered. It was different. Everything was. “This is a little silly, though.” He poked the metal angel holding a hymnbook.
The angel made an indignant noise, the blush still faint on his cheeks. “Oh, well, that. Anathema thought it’d be funny.”
“That girl’s got a strange sense of humor,” Crowley observed with a smirk.
“Yes, well. Would you like something to drink?” Aziraphale asked, trying to change the subject.
Crowley nodded and wandered into the sitting area. He sat down, watching the lights on the tree blink on and off. Aziraphale emerged a few minutes later, handing a seasonally decorated mug over to the demon, a cinnamon stick floating in the dark brown liquid.
“It’s actually hot cocoa. I hope you don’t mind,” Aziraphale said apologetically.
Crowley shrugged. “It’s cold as H-the Arctic outside. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He took a sip and smiled. “This is heavenly, angel,” he teased. “You should start selling this, like in those trendy bookshops. You’re sure to get customers then!”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, sat down next to Crowley and then stirred the cinnamon stick around his own cup of cocoa. “I’d rather not, dear,” he replied. “But thank you,” he murmured.
After they finished their cocoa, Crowley suggested they go to the Ritz for wine. Aziraphale agreed. The drive was punctuated with Handel’s Thank God It’s Christmas and Crowley cursing the late shoppers running across the road.
“Really, my dear, you don’t need to-”
Crowley glared, silencing him. The angel sighed huffily and stared out the window.
The Ritz was strangely empty. Tinkly piano music played over the speakers and the 18-foot tree stood alone in the lobby. Crowley and Aziraphale entered the café together and took their seats at their usual table.
When Aziraphale could no longer speak sensibly and Crowley began hissing words that shouldn’t be hissed, the two decided to retire back to the shop and share a few more bottles of wine. The snow blew in their faces and Aziraphale linked his arm in Crowley’s to stay warm. Crowley was surprised, but didn’t object and continued humming off-key carols to himself.
Back at the shop, the bell jingled merrily and Aziraphale paused in the doorway. He looked up, braced himself, grabbed Crowley by his collar, and then planted a kiss on the demon’s rather surprised lips.
Crowley melted, but before the demon could respond properly, Aziraphale had pulled back and was playing with the keys in his coat pocket.
“S-sorry, Anathema, mistletoe, yeah...” Aziraphale gestured, turning as red as the berries hanging above their heads.
Crowley smiled like a snake and slid a hand around Aziraphale’s waist, inside his coat. “Sure you are, angel,” he replied with an odd stare, the alcohol still in his system.
“I, no! Really...” Aziraphale trailed off, Crowley’s gaze distracting him. “Can we get out of the doorway? It’s awfully cold...” He shivered for effect, tugging Crowley inside.
Crowley obliged, studying his companion. “I don’t mind, you know,” he said softly.
Aziraphale avoided Crowley’s eyes, choosing to stare at his hands instead. He noticed, a bit stupidly, that he was in need of a manicure.
“Aziraphale? Look at me,” the demon coaxed, closing the gap between them.
“Crowley, I—Do you—?” Aziraphale faltered, biting his lip.
Crowley sighed and hesitantly brushed two fingers along the side of Aziraphale’s face. “Relax,” he said with the slightest hiss. Then rousing all the nerve he had, he said, “I want this. You want this.”
Aziraphale nodded, finally meeting Crowley’s eyes. Sky blue stared into fiery red before the angel said anything. “For so long,” he murmured.
“Then let’s not waste any more time, mm?” Crowley grinned and squeezed the angel’s hand.
“Yes,” Aziraphale said quickly and repeated himself, this time with resolve. “Yes.” He kissed Crowley again, wrapping his arms around the demon’s neck.
“Merry Christmas, Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbled and then didn’t say anything coherent for a long time.
argyleheir!Title: Mistletoe
Gift Recipient:
argyleheirAuthor:
beetle_breathSummary: Aziraphale chickens out. Aziraphale/Crowley
Rating: G
Author's notes: Happy Holidays, Argyleheir! Enjoy, or pelt me with tomatoes when you learn who I am.
Aziraphale sat on the bench at St. James Park, throwing bread to the ducks. His counterpart sat beside him, receiving a dirty look from a passing mallard.
“I don’t have anything for you, shoo.” Crowley waved, looking annoyed.
“Crowley,” the angel said suddenly, “do you remember the first time it snowed?”
Crowley raised an eyebrow and made a face. Being a demon, he had an aversion to the cold, but especially the wet-cold. “What? Why are you bringing up that awful stuff? I hate snow,” he complained.
Aziraphale frowned slightly and gazed up at the sky. “But it’s so pure. It makes the world clean again. I would miss it,” he said wistfully.
“Yes, until dogs pee in it or cars drive through it and turn it into that disgusting grey sooty muck,” the demon replied. “I’m sure Pollution gets a kick out of that.”
Aziraphale sighed and shook his head, tearing off another chunk of bread and tossing it to an off-white swan. “You’re no fun, Crowley.”
Crowley could have sworn he saw the angel pout, but it appeared to be his imagination.
“Snow is wonderful. I think He had fun inventing it. It’s magical, Crowley!” the angel insisted. “Besides, the children love it—”
“You mean the Them? Yes, it’s quite fun to see them throw snowballs with rocks in them at each other and that other gang they fight with.” Crowley smirked, earning a frustrated noise from Aziraphale.
“Forget I even mentioned it,” Aziraphale shook his head and went back to feeding the ducks.
It was two weeks before Christmas and Aziraphale was busily putting up decorations in the shop. In the background, a throaty voice drifted from the ancient phonograph that sat in the back somewhere. All is bright… He stood on a rickety old stepladder, trying to hang a holly wreath. A bell jangled, signaling a customer. “Bugger,” he muttered under his breath. “Coming! One moment, please!”
“What have you done?” Crowley stared at the mess of lights and ornaments scattered about.
“Crowley! I’m in the back!” Aziraphale called, stepping down from the ladder.
Crowley followed the voice and looked around. “... What’s all this?” He motioned at the Christmas tree, complete with all the trimmings and he was certain he saw a nativity scene on one of the bookshelves. “Since when do you go all out for the holidays? This is so over-the-top. I thought you just normally put up a few simple decorations...”
The angel blushed. “Yes, well... it’s the first Christmas after… you know… the almost-Apocalypse. It’s different now,” he said quietly. “I want to do everything that I didn’t do before,” he trailed off, staring sideways at the door.
“Mmmmhmmm,” Crowley answered. It was different. Everything was. “This is a little silly, though.” He poked the metal angel holding a hymnbook.
The angel made an indignant noise, the blush still faint on his cheeks. “Oh, well, that. Anathema thought it’d be funny.”
“That girl’s got a strange sense of humor,” Crowley observed with a smirk.
“Yes, well. Would you like something to drink?” Aziraphale asked, trying to change the subject.
Crowley nodded and wandered into the sitting area. He sat down, watching the lights on the tree blink on and off. Aziraphale emerged a few minutes later, handing a seasonally decorated mug over to the demon, a cinnamon stick floating in the dark brown liquid.
“It’s actually hot cocoa. I hope you don’t mind,” Aziraphale said apologetically.
Crowley shrugged. “It’s cold as H-the Arctic outside. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He took a sip and smiled. “This is heavenly, angel,” he teased. “You should start selling this, like in those trendy bookshops. You’re sure to get customers then!”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, sat down next to Crowley and then stirred the cinnamon stick around his own cup of cocoa. “I’d rather not, dear,” he replied. “But thank you,” he murmured.
After they finished their cocoa, Crowley suggested they go to the Ritz for wine. Aziraphale agreed. The drive was punctuated with Handel’s Thank God It’s Christmas and Crowley cursing the late shoppers running across the road.
“Really, my dear, you don’t need to-”
Crowley glared, silencing him. The angel sighed huffily and stared out the window.
The Ritz was strangely empty. Tinkly piano music played over the speakers and the 18-foot tree stood alone in the lobby. Crowley and Aziraphale entered the café together and took their seats at their usual table.
When Aziraphale could no longer speak sensibly and Crowley began hissing words that shouldn’t be hissed, the two decided to retire back to the shop and share a few more bottles of wine. The snow blew in their faces and Aziraphale linked his arm in Crowley’s to stay warm. Crowley was surprised, but didn’t object and continued humming off-key carols to himself.
Back at the shop, the bell jingled merrily and Aziraphale paused in the doorway. He looked up, braced himself, grabbed Crowley by his collar, and then planted a kiss on the demon’s rather surprised lips.
Crowley melted, but before the demon could respond properly, Aziraphale had pulled back and was playing with the keys in his coat pocket.
“S-sorry, Anathema, mistletoe, yeah...” Aziraphale gestured, turning as red as the berries hanging above their heads.
Crowley smiled like a snake and slid a hand around Aziraphale’s waist, inside his coat. “Sure you are, angel,” he replied with an odd stare, the alcohol still in his system.
“I, no! Really...” Aziraphale trailed off, Crowley’s gaze distracting him. “Can we get out of the doorway? It’s awfully cold...” He shivered for effect, tugging Crowley inside.
Crowley obliged, studying his companion. “I don’t mind, you know,” he said softly.
Aziraphale avoided Crowley’s eyes, choosing to stare at his hands instead. He noticed, a bit stupidly, that he was in need of a manicure.
“Aziraphale? Look at me,” the demon coaxed, closing the gap between them.
“Crowley, I—Do you—?” Aziraphale faltered, biting his lip.
Crowley sighed and hesitantly brushed two fingers along the side of Aziraphale’s face. “Relax,” he said with the slightest hiss. Then rousing all the nerve he had, he said, “I want this. You want this.”
Aziraphale nodded, finally meeting Crowley’s eyes. Sky blue stared into fiery red before the angel said anything. “For so long,” he murmured.
“Then let’s not waste any more time, mm?” Crowley grinned and squeezed the angel’s hand.
“Yes,” Aziraphale said quickly and repeated himself, this time with resolve. “Yes.” He kissed Crowley again, wrapping his arms around the demon’s neck.
“Merry Christmas, Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbled and then didn’t say anything coherent for a long time.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 07:54 am (UTC)This is so terribly fantastic. Great job!!
♥ ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 08:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 02:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 03:12 pm (UTC)-slinks off-
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 03:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 04:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 04:09 pm (UTC)“I want to do everything that I didn’t do before,”
Very sweet. Thank you, and Merry Christmas!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 08:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 05:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 05:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 06:16 pm (UTC)Purr.
Absolutely fantastic.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 07:39 pm (UTC)Mistletoe berries are white. I'm sure Crowley would point it out if Aziraphale started kissing him under the holly!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 08:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-12 11:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-13 12:06 am (UTC)When Aziraphale could no longer speak sensibly and Crowley began hissing words that shouldn’t be hissed . . . Hehee.
Aw, this is just so nice and gingerbread feeling-y. ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-16 12:23 pm (UTC)HAPPY HOGSWATCH!!