31 Days of Kisses: A Good Omen Advent Calendar

Come Snow, Come Sunshine

Prompt: Snow

The world, despite all expectations, continued on. The seas remained saltwater and not technically bloody, despite the deaths of coal reefs. The stars remained in the sky, when the smog and light pollution allowed them to be visible. In England, late summer became crisp autumn and an angel and a demon started to wear thicker coats and scarves and meet for cups of tea in museums, concerts and dinners and late night drinks, and nothing changed.

Well, not nothing, Aziraphale thought. There was no subterfuge, no elaborate excuses for meeting up. If they went to feed the ducks, they did so because they bloody well felt like feeding ducks. More and more when he turned to meet Crowley's gaze it was full of unabashed affection, and the demon didn't look away when he noticed Aziraphale looking back.

But when they walked, Crowley thrust his hands into his pockets and Aziraphale clasped his in front of him or behind him, and neither of them reached for the other's hand. Aziraphale had always secretly thought they had done that to avoid the temptation of reaching out, but perhaps the temptation was always only on his side. When they said goodnight, it was with friendly smiles, and then they turned away, untouching.

Aziraphale had spent at least four hundred years thinking that it was fear of the consequences that stopped Crowley pushing him against the nearest hard surface to ravish him. Over the last four weeks he was beginning to think what was stopping Crowley doing so was the lack of any pronounced desire to ravish him in the first place.

It was maddening.

"So, good night then," Crowley said, leaning back and swaying on the heels of his feet at the door to the bookshop. "I expect you have work to get on with."

"Always." Aziraphale hesitated. "What are your plans?"

"Going to get my head down for a bit. It's exhausting, all this not doing work."

"Well, you should know, you slothful thing," Aziraphale said indulgently, hoping Crowley could hear the silent pleas of Kiss me good night, come here, embrace me, hold me close. He could do it himself, he supposed, but every time he tried to imagine it, the kiss was awkward, clumsy, awful. He wasn't the tempter. He shouldn't have to make the first move when there was an actual demon there, for Heaven's sake.

Unless the demon didn't want to in the first place.

Crowley started to turn away, and Aziraphale felt he had to say something, anything, to break this stalemate and stop them going on exactly the same for another two hundred years.

"Let's go to Australia."

Crowley spun back, raised eyebrows visible over his glasses. "What? Why?"

"I thought a change would be nice," Aziraphale said weakly.

"Well, yeah, if you want to. Sure. But why Australia? You hate Australia. I've never been able to get you to go there before."

Aziraphale wasn't sure why. He had just said the first place that came to the top of his head. "Well, winter is coming, and you know how grumpy it makes you." It was only the beginning of autumn, really, but that hardly mattered. "I just thought the Southern Hemisphere might suit you better. And they have the oldest extant vineyards in the world, you know. We could do a vineyard tour. Cuddle a koala." Actually, that was a lovely idea. Aziraphale hugged himself, thinking of it. They looked so damn fluffy.

"Sure, yeah, if that's what you want, angel," Crowley said amenably. "I'll arrange it." He hesitated, his breath making visible puffs of condensation in the air. It was hard to tell with his dark glasses on, but he seemed to be staring at where Aziraphale's arms were wrapped around his overcoated middle "Why do you hate Australia, anyway?"