They walk in silence for a little while before Crowley speaks again. “The Mother called today. Before I went to meet with you.”
Crowley gets a phonecall from her mother; They get cat-called in the park. Crowley looses her cool.
eta - there will be sexy times in the second part, not to worry
An Unexpected KISS by me Rated G, 2350 words, 1/1 complete Aziraphale is on assignment in the United States in the early '70s when he makes two unlikely friends. *Crack treated seriously*
More Good Omens because I'm in love with Michael's facial features and I'm exploring a less realistic style.
Summary: It’s 1969 and Crowley and Aziraphale sit in a pub watching humans make their own history.
It was a raucous night in the London pub.
Indeed, Aziraphale had chosen this one specifically because of the excitement pouring out of it. He didn't have a television in his bookshop and if he was going to experience what was certainly a significant moment in Earth's history, he wanted some suitably celebratory surroundings. His search for the prefect venue (which consisted chiefly of picking a district of bars and restaurants and walking the streets with all his senses extended until he'd found the happiest, liveliest pub with a TV set) had resulted in a pub that would have been rather spacious if it wasn't packed to the brim with Sunday night patrons. A football match had apparently concluded not long before, and a sizable group of young people in the corner were drunk and rowdy in celebration of whatever team had won.
Football notwithstanding, there was a swarm of people crowding up towards the bar where the television was located. Aziraphale's eyes landed on the back of one head in particular, the haircut not so different from when he had last seen it in a Bentley in Soho two years prior. "Crowley, is that you?"
The demon turned, face spilt in an enormous smile. "ANGELLLL!" he crowed loud enough to be heard on the street outside, and Aziraphale winced, as though that in itself was enough to summon Gabriel. But Crowley was already bounding towards him, stumbling gracelessly around the people in his way and beaming like a bonfire. "Fancy runnin'in'ina you 'ere! Wonderful, marv'lous, just in time!"
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile back at the enthusiasm as Crowley clapped him excitedly on the shoulder. "And just how drunk are you, exactly?"
"Oh, unbelievably drunk," Crowley confirmed gleefully. "Hideously drunk. Only way to be, night like tonight! Least until the main event. Got your work cut out for you if you wanna catch me up. C'mon! C'mon, got good seats, right by the telly!" He flung an arm around the angel's shoulders and Aziraphale let himself be dragged over to the bar, not the least bit put out by this unexpected company.
The counter was packed full of people, but two barstools and a few cubic feet of space seemed to grow out of nowhere for them to sit comfortably. "Oi, Rico!" Crowley called over to the bartender. "One for my mate, same as me! Put it on mine!"
"Oh! Well thank you. What are you drinking?"
"I have *no* idea." The demon knocked back another mouthful of whatever was in his glass.
Aziraphale accepted the drink - some pinkish cocktail - from the bartender graciously and bit back a protest against 'my mate', figuring Crowley was drunk to the point that admonishment wouldn't stick. "So. Red letter day for downstairs?"
Crowley pulled a face and waved the notion off, swaying unsteadily on the stool. "Nahhhh. Nothin' t'do with it. Red letter day for...monkeys! Humans! Mad li'l tail-less monkeys, they are." He gestured at the television set where a pair of news anchors were discussing details. "They're tras'iting...tra'smit...they're sending the broadcast all the way from America. Got Cronkite and everything."
That was indeed true, Aziraphale saw. The conversation in the pub hadn't decreased a bit in volume, but he could tell that it was shifting more and more away from football and towards the news programme.
"Angel, d'you know how long I've been waiting for this? Six centuries. No wait..." The demon paused to count on his fingers. "- ty. Sixty centuries. Ever since Adam looked up at th' night sky and went 'wha's tha' thing, then?' I've been waiting for th' humans to get to see it up close." He raised his arms to encompass the ceiling, sloshing half his drink from the glass and nearly smacking the man next to him in the face. "She put all that beautiful, magnificent stuff waaaay up 'n the sky, way up where they could never touch, and stuck 'em down on th' ground. Gave 'em feet 'n legs 'n stuck 'em down in the mud and said 'here, you can look at it I guess but tha's it'. And humans, they looked up at the stars and said 'that's bollocks, d'You know how bollocks that is?' and got to work mapping th' sky 'n figuring out rotations and then! And then!" He grabbed the angel's shoulder hard enough to bruise. "They built a set of wings out of a metal capsule and a bunch of maths and wires and they called it Eagle! I mean, mostly I think it's the Americans being ostentatious but come on! Eagle! And they said 'nuts to Your limitations' and they went and flew anyway!"
His eyes were shining, and Aziraphale thought he had never seen Crowley so proud. "They do have incredible ingenuity."
"Blessed right, they do! W'as the time?"
"Nearly eight, I think."
"Blimey, it's soon. Hang on, I wanna 'ppreciate this." The demon ducked his head, hands gripping the counter. He let out a pained grunt and an obscenely undignified belch as he forced the alcohol from his system, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes just a little. Crowley scrunched up his face in disgust and washed down the taste of suddenly-not-drunk with another sip of the cocktail.
"They made this leap so quickly," Aziraphale observed as the anchormen began to look more flustered. "It's only been, what 70 years or so since they started toying with motorised flight?"
"Tenacious, this lot." Crowley side-eyed him. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"
"No," Aziraphale answered truthfully. "In fact I was specifically told to leave the research alone."
The whole pub was focusing on the television now as radio broadcasts came in. Radio signals from space - Aziraphale could hardly believe it. If someone had told him a hundred years ago that humans would get to this point so quickly he'd have laughed in their face.
"I was at the launch, you know." Quiet awe coloured Crowley's voice as he watched the screen. "Hopped a flight to Cape Kennedy earlier this week. Oh, it was brilliant, angel; you should've seen it."
The broadcast switched away from the anchors to an indoor studio somewhere. A model lander was being lowered slowly, awkwardly onto a model set, with the caption "CBS News Simulation" beneath it. But with the accompanying radio transmissions, it didn't take too much human imagination to make the visuals match the audio.
The murmuring of the patrons around them died slowly with each minute that passed until the entire room was silent, watching the screen. Even the drunkest of the football fans recognized the weight of what was happening.
"Four forward," crackled the radio signal. "Four forward, drifting to the right a little. Okay, down a half."
Aziraphale risked a glance beside him. Crowley was wholly focused on the television set, stock still and not breathing. In fact, the angel would have bet money that he hadn't remembered to breathe in several minutes. His glasses had slipped a bit down his nose so he could see the broadcast unhindered, and his yellow eyes were wide, waiting, desperate: hope and joy and fear raging behind them in a maelstrom.
"Contact light. Okay, engine stop. ACA out of detent. Mode control, both auto. Descent engine command override off. Engine arm off. 413 is in."
"Man on the moon," one of the news anchors breathed, but the pub held its collective breath. It had to be official. If anything went wrong at the last second...
There was were a few moments of radio static.
"We copy you down, Eagle."
"Houston... Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."
"Roger, Tranquility. We copy you on the ground-"
The pub exploded, drowning out the rest of the broadcast. Crowley was on his feet, whooping and hollering with the loudest of them. Aziraphale applauded enthusiastically and clacked his glass against the beer of the gentleman beside him. "Well done, humanity! Well done indeed!"
Crowley was jumping up and down and screaming himself hoarse, hugging whatever stranger happened to get close to him and being hugged by other random strangers in return. One of the drunker football girls kissed him full on the mouth and he didn't seem to care in the least, going right back to his screaming as she moved on to kiss the bloke beside him.
Aziraphale couldn't help but bask for a moment in the happiness radiating from the humans around him. It wasn't hard to find excited people if you knew where to look, but it was rare that one found so many people all deliriously excited about the same thing. He could feel a sizable portion of Europe celebrating tonight.
Crowley grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him enthusiastically, breaking him out of his reverie. Aziraphale thought he glimpsed tears glinting from the corners of the sunglasses. "They did it! Angel, they did it!"
"I can see that! It's very hard to miss."
"Sixty centuries and they made it! Take that, You great cosmic killjoy!" This last was hollered at the ceiling but Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to be cross about it, not with so much happiness humming through the air. "Rico! New round for me and him! Ah Heaven, round for the bar!"
"You're cut off, mate!" the bartender yelled back. But a snap wiped his expression clean as that particular thought was miracled out of his head.
"I," Crowley asserted, downing the rest of his cocktail, "am fresh and ready to go. This party's just getting started. Gonna join me, angel? Betcha the news coverage'll go on for ages."
Aziraphale took the offered refill, already tipsy off the joy coming from both the humans and Crowley. "Oh, why not?"
OMG! They were roommates
Crowley x Aziraphale (Good Omens)
as requested by my beloved @inbedwithmurphy
(This is my first time writing about them, so I hope I did okay...)
Crowley was a demon with a plan.
Some might say his plan was way overdue -by, perhaps some six thousand years -but Crowley didn’t believe in rushing things.
Well, that and Aziraphale had once said he moved too fast, so yeah…
Anyway, things were different now.
They lived together now.
As roommates, but it’s all the same.
The thing was, Crowley respected the angel’s need for time. They had plenty of it, so it was nothing to ask for a few more hundred years.
However, he also didn’t think he’d get a better opportunity than this one to move things along.
Aziraphale’s flat was in desperate need of some fixing -so was the bookshop- and the angel had decided to get it done the human way. He probably didn’t think it’d get this messy, but Crowley wasn’t complaining, since that was how the angel came to live with him.
Now he had Aziraphale on his territory. It was a bit funny seeing the angel in his super modern flat, but he really liked it.
He liked the smell of whatever Aziraphale decided to eat every day, he enjoyed seeing the angel sitting and sipping on tea as he read some book. He liked waking up and hearing Aziraphale humming along to some song in his head.
Six thousand years was a long time to be in love with someone. Crowley didn’t mind it. He felt joy upon seeing Aziraphale -whenever that happened -and he felt comforted by the thought of him.
Things didn’t necessarily need to change, but Crowley would be happy if they did. He didn’t need to have a title such as ’boyfriend’, ‘lover’ or even ‘spouse’, but he’d like those as well. It wasn’t essential to him to kiss Aziraphale…
Wait. Yeah… That won’t might be a bit more important. He wanted the freedom to touch his angel, to hug and kiss him.
Which, brought Crowley back to his plan.
A.K.A. a romantic dinner.
He had it all planned, down to last detail. He knew what food to serve -Aziraphale’s favorite -, the wine to drink -the one the angel always talked about -and even the music to play. He prided himself in knowing the angel better than anyone else, and it was time to put it to use.
He was going to woo his angel.
Crowley’s plan was going very well; Aziraphale wasn’t home when he got there -he liked the idea of a place called ‘home’ for them. He got everything in order and prepared to wait.
Aziraphale didn’t take too long to arrive, and he was full of bags.
“Crowley.” He smiled at the demon. “I was thinking of trying this recipe for dinner…”
“No, no.”Crowley cut him immediately. “Dinner is on me today. Why don’t you take a shower and we eat?”
“Oh.” Aziraphale seemed pleasantly surprised. “Really? That’s really thoughtful of you. I just need to put these things on the…”
“I’ll do it.” Crowley immediately snatched the bags from the angel’s hands. “Go take a shower.”
Aziraphale looked a bit confused then -perhaps because of how insistent Crowley was being -but he decided to play along -fortunately.
Crowley dumped the bags on the kitchen’s counters and rushed back to the dining room. He had to focus.
It seemed forever before Aziraphale appeared on the doorway. “Crowley, dear, what are you…” He stopped once he entered the room and looked around. “Oh.”
There were candles -maybe too many of them -and flowers -an impressive amount of those as well -and music.
“Dinner.” Crowley cleared his throat, then pulled a chair for Aziraphale to sit. “Please.”
The angel seemed bemused as he sat down. “This is nice.” He eyed the wine bottle on the table. “Where did you get this?” He asked surprised.
“I have my secrets.”
As soon as Crowley sat across from him, Aziraphale reached with his hand to touch the demon’s. “Dear. Is this ‘dinner’ or ‘date’?” He asked with a fond smile.
Crowley took a deep breath in. “Di… Date.” He confirmed.
“Oh.” Aziraphale patted his hand. “Excellent. Let’s have some wine?”
They held hands for 90% of their dinner.
PODFIC : 13 Rooms - Chapter 08 (Ceres)
Podfic length : 10:26
Read by : Julibellule
From a Good Omens fanfiction written by @chamyl
Rated : Explicit (This chapter rated Teen)
13 Room's Summary:
Crowley gets a suspicious phone call from Aziraphale asking for help because he’s been… abducted?!
What the Heaven does that mean?
And why does Crowley have to go through test after test, trying to rescue him?
I am so in love with this story. And I enjoy recording it so much. It just flows all so well. And Crowley and Aziraphale's banter in this chapter is adorable. Crowley is all fondly exasperated and Aziraphale is so sassy and almost oblivious of Crowley's sarcasm. I love the way @chamyl make them work so well together.
Download or listen to the whole podfic on AO3
crowley and aziraphale’s meeting in rome is one of my favourite scenes and I’m not sure why... maybe it’s aziraphale’s enthusiasm when he sees crowley, his endearing “crawley- crowley” and “fancy running into you here” and the way he gushes about oysters with that tiny smile on his face. or maybe it’s the ridiculousness of aziraphale asking “still a demon then?” in a silly, teasing attempt at making conversation. or maybe it’s the way aziraphale keeps trying to engage crowley in conversation, shy and eager, how he toasts a glass with him (“salutaria”) and tries everything he can to keep the conversation going a little longer. or maybe it’s crowley’s grouchy, snappy demeanour until aziraphale says “well let me tempt you-“, and then he softens and smiles like that. or maybe it’s the knowledge that this is the first real sign of friendship and intimacy and understanding between them, a small and mundane moment about crossing boundaries. it’s just lovely
a leetle sketchy crowley based on the latest chapter of my gaming-through-history fic - though he's a sight more cheerful in that!
I was inspired by a dream I had of my childhood home and Nonna. Aziraphale made friends with Nerina back in World War II Italy, she Nerina passes away, it is found that he had a direct descendant of the Original Apple Tree. One shot. And yummy F/F smutty smut.
Check it out and let me know what you think!!!
crowley and aziraphale
If you draw Aziraphale skinny goodbye you are dead to me
just finished Good Omens and have absolutely no clue how anyone could perform so many mental gymnastics that they interpret Crowley and Aziraphale as just platonic bros, but alas, heteronormativity knows no bounds
now, i need to clarify for anyone who hasn't watched the show: this is not a case of me projecting onto fictional characters and seeing ships that aren't author intent. this is a case of "they're so fucking gay that miracles happen just for them while a love song plays in the background"
literally the last scene of the show? crowley asks aziraphale out to dinner at the ritz, he accepts with a smile that edges on giddy. they talk and dine. soft candlelight. table for two, a point is being made of the table being explicitly referred to as a table for two. they listen intently to each other's words. a nightingale sings just for them, while the narration attests that this is the first time literally ever that a nightingale has sung in berkley square. a love song is playing and continues playing over the credits, and said song goes on to wax poetic about kissing.
BEST PLATONIC BROS BEING PALS