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freezingrayneTitle: All Things in their Time
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley and Aziraphale
Rating: Worksafe
Word Count: 700~
Teaser: “We’ve been through this,” he says. “There’d be absolutely no reason for me to tempt you. You don’t count.”
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kink_bingo prize for lovelyzelda
“Are you sure this isn’t sinning?”
Crowley rolls his eyes, uncorking another bottle with a practiced twist and setting it on the table to breathe. “Of course I am,” he says, in what he hopes is a comforting voice. He’s never really managed the fine balance between soothing and sinister. Next thing to work on, he supposes.
Aziraphale narrows his eyes. “You would say that.”
Crowley swirls his wine in his goblet, appreciating the gleam on the crystal and the familiarity of the scene. They have this conversation nearly every time they drink.
They’d both been in town on business—Italy is an excellent place to stir up a little debauchery, or to dissuade it, in the angel’s case. It has such a rich history for it, what with the Roman Empire and the Renaissance. Crowley had been to the Vatican the evening before, attempting to get a Cardinal to break his vows. The Vatican’s always good for business, though Aziraphale had called an out-of-bounds on the Pope, which Crowley supposes is fair.
“We’ve been through this,” he says. “There’d be absolutely no reason for me to tempt you. You don’t count.” Just like there’s no call for Aziraphale to try to encourage Crowley to be virtuous. That just isn’t how they’re wired.
Aziraphale makes a ‘hmph’ noise in his throat, draining his glass the rest of the way. He’s already had quite a bit—there’s a flush over the bridge of his nose and his eyes are a glassy. They can prevent themselves from getting drunk, but then there isn’t much point to the wine, is there? Especially wine this expensive, since the angel had insisted on Crowley paying for it, rather than arranging for it to appear conveniently on the bedside table of the hotel room.
Aziraphale is in a particularly argumentative mood today. “How do I know it isn’t a trick?” he pushes, even as he pours himself another glass.
Isn’t hypocrisy a sin? Crowley thinks, with no small amount of amusement.
“Because I don’t do tricks. Don’t need to. Humanity’s perfectly capable of leading itself astray—it just needs a little nudge now and again. And besides,” he adds, setting his glass down and leaning across the table, close enough to see how unfocused the angel’s eyes have gone . “There are much better forms of temptation.”
Aziraphale, who had opened his mouth wide—most likely to argue that humanity is certainly not as bad as all that—snaps it shut again. His eyes flick down for a moment, to the slow stretch of Crowley’s smile, before he says reproachfully, “Are you trying to seduce me?”
Crowley sits back in his chair. “No.” It isn’t a complete lie (which is a pity, really, since they are one of his specialties) “Just trying to prove a point, is all.”
“That’s lucky,” Aziraphale says, wrinkling his nose. “Because you’re not very good at it.”
Crowley can beg to differ—he can think of roughly thirty different scenarios off the top of his head when he’s been very good at it—but part of the deal is that they never talk business. Aziraphale tends to get very prim whenever Crowley starts talking about all the bored housewives and sexually-confused rugby players he’s managed to steer off the path of righteousness.
“And I suppose you’re an authority on the subject?” he counters smugly.
“Well, no,” the angel admits, the blush over the bridge of his nose deepening. “But I think it’s a good deal more complex than breathing in my face with a funny expression.”
“Funny expression? You should see your expressions, angel. Besides, I’ve got you good and properly drunk, haven’t I? That’s the first step. I could have my way with you any time I wanted.”
Aziraphale gulps a little more wine, narrowing his eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
That sounds like a challenge to Crowley, and if he’d been a human and not a demon, he probably would have taken it, humanity’s impulses being what they are. But nothing good ever comes of office romances (Crowley’s hung around humans long enough to have figured that out) and it’s not as if there’s any rush. Eternity is a long time.
They’ll probably get round to it eventually.
Fandom: Good Omens
Characters: Crowley and Aziraphale
Rating: Worksafe
Word Count: 700~
Teaser: “We’ve been through this,” he says. “There’d be absolutely no reason for me to tempt you. You don’t count.”
Written as
kink_bingo prize for lovelyzelda“Are you sure this isn’t sinning?”
Crowley rolls his eyes, uncorking another bottle with a practiced twist and setting it on the table to breathe. “Of course I am,” he says, in what he hopes is a comforting voice. He’s never really managed the fine balance between soothing and sinister. Next thing to work on, he supposes.
Aziraphale narrows his eyes. “You would say that.”
Crowley swirls his wine in his goblet, appreciating the gleam on the crystal and the familiarity of the scene. They have this conversation nearly every time they drink.
They’d both been in town on business—Italy is an excellent place to stir up a little debauchery, or to dissuade it, in the angel’s case. It has such a rich history for it, what with the Roman Empire and the Renaissance. Crowley had been to the Vatican the evening before, attempting to get a Cardinal to break his vows. The Vatican’s always good for business, though Aziraphale had called an out-of-bounds on the Pope, which Crowley supposes is fair.
“We’ve been through this,” he says. “There’d be absolutely no reason for me to tempt you. You don’t count.” Just like there’s no call for Aziraphale to try to encourage Crowley to be virtuous. That just isn’t how they’re wired.
Aziraphale makes a ‘hmph’ noise in his throat, draining his glass the rest of the way. He’s already had quite a bit—there’s a flush over the bridge of his nose and his eyes are a glassy. They can prevent themselves from getting drunk, but then there isn’t much point to the wine, is there? Especially wine this expensive, since the angel had insisted on Crowley paying for it, rather than arranging for it to appear conveniently on the bedside table of the hotel room.
Aziraphale is in a particularly argumentative mood today. “How do I know it isn’t a trick?” he pushes, even as he pours himself another glass.
Isn’t hypocrisy a sin? Crowley thinks, with no small amount of amusement.
“Because I don’t do tricks. Don’t need to. Humanity’s perfectly capable of leading itself astray—it just needs a little nudge now and again. And besides,” he adds, setting his glass down and leaning across the table, close enough to see how unfocused the angel’s eyes have gone . “There are much better forms of temptation.”
Aziraphale, who had opened his mouth wide—most likely to argue that humanity is certainly not as bad as all that—snaps it shut again. His eyes flick down for a moment, to the slow stretch of Crowley’s smile, before he says reproachfully, “Are you trying to seduce me?”
Crowley sits back in his chair. “No.” It isn’t a complete lie (which is a pity, really, since they are one of his specialties) “Just trying to prove a point, is all.”
“That’s lucky,” Aziraphale says, wrinkling his nose. “Because you’re not very good at it.”
Crowley can beg to differ—he can think of roughly thirty different scenarios off the top of his head when he’s been very good at it—but part of the deal is that they never talk business. Aziraphale tends to get very prim whenever Crowley starts talking about all the bored housewives and sexually-confused rugby players he’s managed to steer off the path of righteousness.
“And I suppose you’re an authority on the subject?” he counters smugly.
“Well, no,” the angel admits, the blush over the bridge of his nose deepening. “But I think it’s a good deal more complex than breathing in my face with a funny expression.”
“Funny expression? You should see your expressions, angel. Besides, I’ve got you good and properly drunk, haven’t I? That’s the first step. I could have my way with you any time I wanted.”
Aziraphale gulps a little more wine, narrowing his eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
That sounds like a challenge to Crowley, and if he’d been a human and not a demon, he probably would have taken it, humanity’s impulses being what they are. But nothing good ever comes of office romances (Crowley’s hung around humans long enough to have figured that out) and it’s not as if there’s any rush. Eternity is a long time.
They’ll probably get round to it eventually.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-21 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-24 01:26 am (UTC)I imagine aziraphale would be a mean drunk. Or a very friendly one. O