One shot #2 part 1
"No, Crowley. It- it just can't happen. I-I can't fathom what I would do if we did and then something h-happened. I- I can't. I have t-to go." Aziraphale turns and is immediately absorbed by the group passing by the spot where Crowley stood frozen.
It happened to be right outside of an older lady's house. She was on the porch in a rocking chair, watching the entire exchange silently. It was now that she spoke up.
Crowley was startled by her voice, oblivious to her before this. He did not hear her stand up, the old wooden chair moving back and forth after she stood. He did not hear the creak of the stairs as she approached him. He did, however, hear her voice. It was not frail, as you would expect. It was strong, and she held her head high.
"Young man," Crowley spun around. "Are you an idiot?"
"N-no?"
Not only was her voice strong, but so was her slap. Right across the cheek. The sting was harsh, and the smack reverberated around the now quiet street.
"Go after him!"
"Oh! O-oh yeah!" Crowley whipped around and sped down the street. He knew exactly where Aziraphale had gone.
Back to his bookshop. Tears streaming down his face, he had fled to the back room where he keeps his most prized books. He had curled up in the corner, with a glass of wine, his sobs eventually dying down to hiccups, and then eventually he fell asleep, curled up in that corner, spilling his wine all over the floor.
Crowley opened the door, and the little bell rang it's protest throughout the little shop. Eventually it stopped, like all things do, and Crowley was able to stop ignoring it. He searched the shop, finding his way to the back room.
He glided through all of the shelves until he reached the corner.
"Oh my. Ok. We'll get you sorted out." He muttered to himself.
He gently lifted the glass out of the angel's hand and sets it on the table, before lifting him up from the ground and carrying him bridal style out to his Bentley. He slid him into the passenger seat. He then slid cooly over the hood of the car. It worked out. It always worked out when he did something cool.
He hopped into the drivers side and sped off, pondering where to bring the angel. He decided on his own home, where he had an extra bedroom. Well, he had a couch and a bedroom. The demon would take the couch, and give the bed to Aziraphale.
When they arrived, Crowley not driving but fussing over the angel, he again picked the latter up, and fumbled with the keys. They finally got inside after the keys fell multiple times from the lock. Many curses were heard uttered quietly from the hallway.
After settling Aziraphale into the soft bed, the demon opened his newly stocked closet and began looking for pajamas for the angel. Suddenly, but as if they had always been there, half of the wardrobe was white as opposed to the black moments before.
He picked out a pair of tan silken shorts and a white T-shirt. Then he put it back.
"Oh no. No no no no no. Absolutely not." He shook the image from his mind. He then dug and found a set of silvery pajamas, the top a button up.
"Perfect. Angel wake up." He shook a groggy Aziraphale. A groan issued from the bed.
"C'mon you gotta get up. Let's get you into pajamas and then you can go right back to sleep." He smiled to himself when man's eyes brightened at the sight of the night wear picked for him.
"Yup okay that's it," he guides the man to the bathroom and hands the set over before closing the door.
"W-hiccup-wait, ineed help with the butt- hehe- with the buttons!" The drunk slurs.
Lord help me. I can't believe I said that. Crowley runs a hand over his face before turning the handle. He was met with a shirtless Aziraphale sitting cross legged on the bathroom floor, his hands fidgeting with the buttons on the shirt, a great look of concentration on his face.
Crowley takes a deep breath before sitting down in front of him. He puts his hands over Aziraphale's.
"Let me take care of that, Angel."
He quickly unbuttons the shirt, only once looking up to Aziraphale staring intently at him.
"Okay, here we go," He helps him up, and then eases the shirt onto the angel. This is the opposite of what I want to be doing. "Do you need help buttoning up, too?"
"Y-hiccup- yes I believe I do."
Crowley moves in front of Aziraphale. Holy shit oh fuck I think I might attack him. He starts buttoning the top buttons, their faces closer than needed.
"I'm sorry. I di-hiccup- didn't mean t-to leave you like that."
"It's fine." Crowley was crouching now, and he knew he had to get onto his knees to button the bottom buttons. He was holding his breath.
"Hiccup. Oh. Ok then." Aziraphale tries to look anywhere but Crowley, and to think of sad things, like dead puppies, but it didn't work. He began to heat up, and had to stop himself from falling over. He braces him arm on the wall.
"Is everything okay?" Crowley asks.
"Gnmnm hmm..."
"Aziraphale?" He looks up now. The angels face was flushed. Without looking, Crowley tried to button the button, but he missed, and hit something else.
"Haaah okay okay mmhmm keep talking!" Aziraphale was putting all of his weight on the wall now.
Crowley was blushing, and devilish things were entering his mind. He shook them away and tried to think of something to quell the feeling inside of him.
"Uhum okay. Okay yeah. Um." Crowley was holding himself back and could not focus on forming a coherent sentence.
"Crowley. Crowley now is the time, if you are goi- hiccup- ng to do something, do it now!"
"You're drunk, I c- can't. I can't."
There was a whooshing sound. "Not any more. Just... be gentle."
Crowley needed no other confirmation.
A/N: Second part?
