Illustrated Fic for Aviss
Title: A Reason to Thank Pepper
Recipient: aviss
Author/Artist: draconn_malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Adam turns 21, and the information provided by one of his gifts
starts to bug him. From there, things get further. Adam/Crowley,
Aziraphale/Raphael.
Author notes: This got longer than it was meant to, but... I hope it is okay
nevertheless. Also, the blue thing over Adam's hand? It's supposed to
symbolize the Earth.
Of course, one doesn’t turn twenty-one every day. In fact, it only happens once in a lifetime (unless time travel and/or wormholes are involved). Therefore, it is customary to celebrate this unique occasion with one’s friends and relatives.
Sometimes, it naturally happens so that some of one’s preferred guests are unavailable during the important occasion. Now, there are several ways to react to that. One option might be being childish and trying to guilt them into either cancelling whatever previous engagements they have or just make them terribly, horribly guilty for missing the celebration. If the birthday truly is the twenty-first one, however, this way of action is often considered immature.
Another way of coping might be to simply accept the fact and their congratulations without any further complaints. And then there is the way of inviting the parties involved - or possibly allowing them to invite themselves - for a belated celebration later on.
The latter was the way Adam Young chose when Crowley simply couldn’t be there on his birthday. This was also the reason why he was currently alone with the demon.
“I hope you had fun,” Crowley said, then smirked. “Of course, that would be quite difficult without me around, wouldn’t it?”
“I do fear so,” Adam said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “If nothing else, the presents were quite entertaining.”
“Ah, yes. Aziraphale told me he gave you Picture of Dorian Gray. I just hope it isn’t an omen of some kind,” the demon said amusedly.
“Have no fear,” Adam replied with equal amount of amusement. “I’m not about to become all evil and immoral and stuff. Would be bad for the fate of the world, you see.”
“I should hope not.” Crowley made a face. “The mere thought of a world where you are evil is too terrifying even for me. And I’m a demon.”
“Don’t worry. I plan on staying neutral for the time being.” Then, Adam grinned.
“Although the best gift of all was Pepper’s - at least if by ‘best’ you mean ‘most useless’ or ‘most amusing’. Wait a minute, I’ll get it!”
Crowley waited with a certain amount of patience. After a moment Adam returned, holding something that looked like a pendant made of feathers and plastic gems.
“Apparently this is a virgin detector,” Adam told with an amused grin. “I don’t know how she’s made it work, but supposedly the gems start to flash whenever there’s a virgin present. There, you see,” he then said, pointing at the fake jewels. “They’re flashing again. I still haven’t figured out where the battery is hidden, but I don’t want to take it apart after she went to the trouble of building it.”
Crowley, however, didn’t even listen to the young Antichrist. He just stared at the pendant. “Either that’s the real thing, or it’s damn effective for a fake,” he muttered.
“What do you mean?” asked Adam with a small grimace. “For your information, I’m twenty and male, so the chances of me being an innocent virgin are pretty miserable, so -” For a moment he just stared at the demon as realization dawned on him. “Oh,” he said, and then again, “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed,” Crowley said dryly. “Sorry to break it to you, kid, but… yup, that’s me. Absolutely inexperienced. Sure, I can do a blessed fine job at seduction, but I’ve never had to follow through with my promises.”
Adam’s perfectly blue eyes were now wide as saucers. “Really? But I always thought… Aziraphale and you…”
“No, not Aziraphale and I.” Crowley sighed. “Everybody thinks that. Everybody. Even the nice old lady around the corner winks suggestively whenever she sees us together somewhere. Well, the truth is, we’re not! Together, that is. There is no ‘us’ when it comes to us. We’ve never had a relationship, we’ve never wanted one, and we don’t want one now, either. We’re not denying our feelings or afraid of our superiors’ reactions. We’re just friends, period. Nothing more. And I’m seriously going to do something horrible to the next person who suggests we are.”
“I’m sorry.” Adam grinned sheepishly. “I just… I just always assumed, I guess. You’re always together, and… Sorry.”
“That’s just it. Everybody ‘just assumes’. Well, stop assuming! Face the fucking facts! The only one Aziraphale’s been with - as far as I know, anyway - is Oscar fucking Wilde.”
“And you haven’t been with anyone.” Adam nodded. “Okay, got it.” He grinned, then. “I guess I could have known, really,” he said. “I just prefer not to poke into people’s private matters, so…"
"Now don't come telling me how you're so good and moral because you rather thought I'm fucking my best friend than poked around in my head to find the truth." Crowley made a face. "I know all about immorality."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you do." Adam glanced at the detector that was still hanging from his hand. "So... this thing works, then?"
"Apparently," Crowley sighed. "I don't think it will work for too long, though. It's not powerful enough to do anything but look stupid once the week's over. Knowing you, though," he added dryly, "it will work perfectly well for the next two centuries and then start complaining that it wants to be paid for all its hard work."
At this, Adam laughed. If Crowley noticed anything odd about the tone of his laughter, he chose not to comment on it.
***
Adam was having trouble sleeping.
This was certainly something unusual. As far as he could remember, he had always slept like a baby - when he wasn’t too busy doing something else, that was. But now he wasn’t a ten-year-old reading beneath the covers in the light of a torch; he was twenty-one and he could read all he wanted without having to resort to such means. However, he didn’t want to read. He wanted to sleep, but couldn’t do it.
It was really quite frustrating.
There had to be something keeping him awake, right? It wasn’t like he was purposefully skipping sleep to torture himself. So what was it that was occupying his thoughts.
Oh, yes. It just had to be that, didn’t it? Black hair and a perfectly neat suit, a slight, almost unnoticeable hiss at the ‘s’s…
This had been a problem for quite some time now: Every now and then he found himself thinking about Crowley. At random points during the day his mind turned to golden eyes, good cheekbones, and a clever smirk. It was quite distracting, especially when he was trying to concentrate on something.
However, the worst it was when the thoughts came to him when he was alone. Then, he would be "distracted" in more than one way.
Adam had known for a while now that he liked women and men equally much. After all, he was all about neutrality, and it would have been unfair to like one gender over another. However, lately all his thoughts of such nature had been about Crowley.
This wasn’t good, he decided. He couldn’t afford himself to be so distracted. If he couldn’t get rid of the thoughts himself, he should just go and tell the demon about them. A good, old-fashioned rejection should work just fine to put an end to his distraction.
…Except if the demon did not reject him…
Oh, great. That thought was sure to keep him up all night long.
***
“Crowley?”
There was no vocal response. However, the questioningly raised eyebrow and just slight redirection of the sunglass-hidden gaze were enough of an answer to Adam. He was used to reading these signs - after all, he had been paying abnormal amounts of attention to them lately.
“I -” Adam took a deep breath, then said quickly, “I think I like you.” Never let it be said that he was one to beat around the bush.
For a moment Crowley stayed silent, just staring at him. In shock, most probably. Adam’s heart sank as he prepared to hear the words of rejection.
“…And why on Earth would you think that?” asked Crowley instead. His tone was one of disbelief, not that Adam was surprised. It wasn’t every day the only son of your boss said such things to you.
“Well… I think about you all the time,” Adam said, trying very hard not to blush. “Even when I don’t want to. I think you’re sexy. And, well, I like you. You’re witty and sarcastic and charming, and I like talking with you, and you’re not really on either Side. Don’t try to deny that, either. I’m omniscient when I want to be.”
Crowley sighed. “Look, as nice as that is to my demonic ego, just drop it,” he said. “It wouldn’t work. You’re young, good-looking, and most of all human. You don't need an old demon to mess with your head. There's this little thing called the world you also have to concern yourself with."
"I don't care." On a moment of courage, Adam set his hand on top of Crowley's. "You think I'm good-looking, eh? Well, that's a start." He grinned. "Now, go on flattering me."
"Demons don't flatter. They just lie to advance their temptations," Crowley muttered. However, he didn't pull his hand away. Adam took that as a good sign.
"Come on, you can lie better than that," the boy said, leaning a bit closer. "Can you honestly say you care nothing for me?"
"Yes," Crowley said. Adam could actually tell when he lied.
For a moment, Adam just watched Crowley, trying to predict his reactions. Finally, though, he leant further in and pressed a kiss on the demon's lips.
For a moment, Crowley was frozen. Then, however, he kissed him back.
Adam smiled inwardly. Success.
***
Crowley felt slightly dazed as Adam continued to kiss him, hands wandering over his chest. He tried to resist, really tried, but demons were not exactly designed for resisting temptations. Therefore, he eventually drew the young man closer, kissing him a bit harder.
When Adam's fingers started to tug at the waistband of his trousers, however, he froze. "Don't," he hissed. (No, there wasn't a single 's' in 'don't', but Crowley was an expert in hissing.)
"Oh, come on," Adam said, smirking. "Is the big and bad demon afraid?"
"I'm not afraid!" snapped Crowley in response, drawing back a bit to look at the boy properly. "I'm just - unsure."
"Unsure about what?" Adam questioned. "About whether you should run away screaming?"
"About whether you're good enough to give my blessed virginity to, you idiot," Crowley said. However, he didn't sound quite as self-confident as he usually did.
"Aw, come on. Virginity is just an embarrassing obstacle for a demon, isn't it? I'll just help you get rid of it. Besides," Adam added, now placing little kisses along Crowley's jaw line, "we can - go slow - if you - want to." He said the last words right into Crowley's ear along with a flicker of his tongue.
"And now you make me sound like a bloody blushing maiden," grumbled the demon. "I'm a man - well, most frequently male-shaped being - not some girl you have to be careful with."
"Pepper would kill you if she heard that," Adam commented. "And of course I have to be careful with you. After all," at this, he grinned, "I'm the more experienced one here. For once.”
With that, Crowley hardly could argue. His pride was trying to resist, telling he didn't need anybody going slow with him for Heaven's sake, but his reasonable side told him to ignore this. He'd been a virgin for six thousand years; he could very well wait for a bit.
...And since Adam didn't seem to mind waiting for some time, he could, perhaps, for once hesitate just the tiniest little bit...
***
Crowley gazed up at the ceiling, trying his very best to ignore the warm body of the dozing young man pressed against him. It was, however, a task he could not accomplish, as it turned out. Adam was just too, well, unignorable.
He had dreamed of this. Of course, he had always denied it - and he was very talented in the art of denial - but he had. The boy was just, well, perfect. Tall and slender, with golden curls and blue, blue eyes in a face formed like that of a Greek god. Add to that an incredible aura of power, a sense of humour, enough good intentions to make an angel sick and that irresistible smile... What he most wondered was how anybody could actually resist Adam. Surely he wasn't the only one who had fallen for the boy's charms?
Well, he thought then, at least he was currently the only one the boy was using his charms on actively. Or at least he assumed so; Adam was the loyal type as far as he could tell. How ironic, really - the son of Satan was the monogamous type in today's world of free love and casual cheating.
That was all good and well, though. Demons tended to be possessive.
Drawing the boy still a bit closer, Crowley cursed in his mind. Apparently there was no way out of this - Adam had made it pretty clear he didn't intend it to be just a one-nighter.
Well, then he'd better stop complaining and just enjoy himself.
***
Dinners at the Ritz. Feeding ducks. Talking, laughing, teasing, flirting, arguing. All familiar activities for Crowley.
However, the company he had was not quite what he was used to. The golden hair was similar, yes, but still, Adam was not Aziraphale.
For one thing, Crowley had never seriously considered kissing Aziraphale.
He still kept in touch with Aziraphale, of course, just not as actively now that he actually had something else to do with his time than just harassing the angel. Adam filled most of his days - and nights.
It still made him a bit embarrassed that he, a demon, was learning about sex from a (mostly) human boy. However, he enjoyed the learning process too much to actually complain.
And damn it, if he was going to better his demonic reputation by getting rid of his virginity (and rather embarrassing lack of sex experience), who the better to do it with than the Antichrist?
***
Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Every relationship has its ups and downs, and not even the Antichrist could have a relationship so perfect as to never fight.
What neither of them could have expected, however, was that their first true disagreement would happen because of Adam trying to help Crowley.
Crowley didn't open the letter immediately. News from Hell was rarely good, and what counted as bad news from Hell was usually horrifying. Finally, though, he opened the letter, glancing at it. He didn't notice Adam's half curious, half worried gaze on himself as he started to read.
"A Prince?" Crowley exclaimed suddenly, staring at the paper in shock as though he hadn't believed his eyes. "I've been made a fucking Prince of Hell?!" He then turned to look at Adam, not saying anything. There was no need to say anything since the accusation was very clearly visible in his eyes.
"Yeah, well, about that," Adam said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "The rumour had it that Duke Hastur had it in for you. I just thought you'd like to be his superior..." He trailed off.
"Yeah, sure I want to be his superior. Fuck you. The better rank you have in Hell, the more people there are who want to stab your back to get to your place. Sure, maybe I wasn't much more than fish bait before, but at least I didn't have countless bloodthirsty bastards all wanting to get to my place. And do you realize how much duties Princes have? I'll never have a moment of peace! I'll even be required to show up in Hell every now and then!"
"Okay, so maybe I didn't think it through properly," Adam sighed. "But nobody will dare to try stabbing you in the back, you know. Once they know just who got you promoted, they won't dare even look at you badly."
"And I'll be known as your fucking protégé for the rest of the eternity," spat Crowley. "I can take care of myself, you know. I took care of Duke Ligur. And since when have you had influence in the official matters of Hell, anyway? I can understand why individual demons would fear you, but as far as I know, you're not involved in the real politics. Or are you?" he asked then suspiciously.
"I'd like to think you know me better than that," Adam said, sounding slightly hurt.
"It's just that my father - the real one - still hasn't given up hope on me turning to his side. I can get through a request or two every now and then."
"And when he realizes you'll never take his side, I'll be the first thing he uses to get to you," the demon said dryly. "Or when you die, if nothing else. You're mortal, right? Like Jesus was? One day you'll die and be free of all this shit, but I'll be a marked man for the rest of Time."
"Who says I won't take his side?" asked Adam back, blue eyes glinting challengingly.
"If you do take his side," Crowley said, "I'll fucking dive into a swimming pool full of holy water. I like the Earth, Adam. I like driving the Bentley and eating in good restaurants and tormenting houseplants and yes, even feeding ducks. And I don't particularly want it all to end."
"I like the Earth, too," Adam sighed. "And I don't want it to end, either. But I also like you and I don't want you to get harmed." His blue eyes looked at the demon, so sincere and innocent that they would have easily been voted the Most Innocent Eyes Ever. "Jesus was maybe mortal, but only until He died. After that He became immortal again. Even now, He could still be walking around on Earth; He just chooses not to. And I plan to stay around for a long, long time."
"I do hope so," grumbled Crowley. "Since if you leave me alone to deal with all this shit you caused me to get into, I'll bloody resurrect you and then kill you again with my own bare hands."
"Don't worry," Adam said, drawing the demon into his arms despite the protests. "I'm not going to leave you alone any time soon. In fact, I'm not going to leave you alone, period."
"Let's hope the Son of Satan is better at keeping his word than his father is, then." Crowley grimaced. "I hate digging graves open." Then, suddenly, he struggled his way out of Adam’s embrace. “Right now, I need some space to think,” he said, the tiny hiss on his ‘s’s now clearer than usually. “I’ll call you when I’m able to talk again.”
Adam was left behind, gazing after the demon like a lost puppy.
***
"Crowley, you idiot!"
Now, there were many things Crowley might have expected to hear upon entering the bookshop, but this was not one of them. Blinking in surprise, he looked at the angel questioningly. "Aziraphale?" he asked. "What is it?"
"This." The angel waved a roll of parchment in the air. "When exactly were you planning to tell me, hmm?"
"That doesn't really tell me what is wrong, you know," Crowley said, slightly irritated. "It'd help a lot if I actually knew the contents of that parchment."
"The contents of it, eh? Very well." Aziraphale opened the roll and started to read, his tone clearly irritated. "Dear Aziraphale, it has come to our knowledge that your status is no more sufficient to deal with the demon currently assigned to Earth. Due to this, you are to give up your position to somebody more capable of handling the situation. Expect a replacement within the next week. And then a lot of the usual bureaucracy," Aziraphale summarized the end of the letter. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Prince of Hell, Crowley! That's not just something you keep a secret!"
"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret!" Crowley yelled. "I thought you could figure it out by yourself! Did it ever even occur to you that my aura was stronger than before?"
"Crowley, after all these years, I hardly even notice your aura," Aziraphale said. "I'm mostly immune to it unless you choose to show off. And I thought we were friends!" he then said with a hurt tone. "That we could trust each other! And now - now you do this and don't even have the guts to tell me beforehand!"
"Look, I haven't done anything!" Crowley said, irritated. "I didn't want this! If I could, I'd get demoted again! This is all Adam's fault so don't start yelling at me!"
"Well, all right. Then Adam will surely deal with the situation when you try to get along with an archangel without levelling half of the city!"
"An archangel?" Crowley paled. He might have been more powerful now, but he didn't want to face an archangel! He didn't want to face any angels, in fact. The Arrangement worked so well, he didn't want it to end. Why, oh, why did Adam always have to do things too well?
"Yes, an archangel. In case you managed to forget it, an archangel is the equivalent Heavenly rank of a Prince." Aziraphale glared at him. "I'll be holding you responsible if anything happens to my books while I am away," he said.
"While you are away? Are you going somewhere?" Crowley's head was beginning to ache. There were too many things happening at once.
"Didn't you listen? I'm to expect a replacement. I'll have to give up my position. That means I will have to return to Heaven!" There was an almost pained look on the angel's face now. "I don't know what Adam was thinking. However, I seriously hope he will be capable of handling this."
Crowley wanted to say that Adam could deal with it easily. After all, he had once prevented the end of the world. However, this time it wasn't the Earth that was in danger - it was Crowley's own, personal world.
And it was slowly falling apart.
***
There was a knock on Crowley’s door early in the morning. A very loud knock, and too early, the demon decided as he dragged himself out of the bed. Being awake before noon should be illegal. He would have looked into actually establishing a law against it if that hadn’t meant that being awake before noon was the proper demonic thing to do.
“If this is you, Adam,” he said grumpily before the door was even properly open, “I swear I’ll kick you to the stairway. I do not like getting up early.” If it was Aziraphale, he didn’t know what he’d do. Aziraphale at least usually knew not to disturb him before he was properly awake unless it was very important.
“Ah, well. I shall remember that in the future,” said a cheerful voice that belonged neither to Adam nor to Aziraphale. “For now, though, you will have to forgive me.”
Crowley gave one of his rare blinks as he actually looked at the being standing at his doorstep. There was warm brown hair with a few blonde highlights. The perfect six feet of height were present, too. And blue, blue eyes that would have made a summer sky turn green in envy.
There had to be a worse way of starting a day than waking up to find a cheerful archangel at his door. Given enough time he might even think of one.
Without thinking too much about it Crowley threw the door shut. He was not ready to deal with this right now. In fact, he wasn’t ready to deal with this, period. Maybe he was a Prince of Hell at the moment but that didn’t mean he wanted to have anything to do with the archangels.
Apparently, though, he wasn’t given a choice. The door was opened and the angel stepped in despite obviously not being welcome. “Now, that is no way to greet your guests,” he said calmly. “How about we try that again?”
“Okay. Get the fuck out of my house,” Crowley hissed. At the same time he conjured himself a proper set of clothes. Adam or Aziraphale he could very well face in just his pyjama bottoms, but an archangel was a different matter. (Not that he minded it for reasons of decency - he was very much comfortable with only his skin - but it was much easier to appear respectable when you were properly dressed. And right now he was going to need every bit of help he could get.)
“I don’t think so.” The archangel smiled, not unkindly. “Now. I believe there are a few matters we need to solve. For one thing, this… surprising… promotion of yours.”
“Oh, great,” sighed Crowley. “Look, Raphael, I didn’t want this. I was perfectly content as a low-class demon nobody paid much attention to. I’m not about to cause any more trouble than I did before. You can fucking go back to Heaven and send Aziraphale back here.”
Raphael blinked in surprise. “Aziraphale never left,” he informed Crowley, casually taking a seat on Crowley’s perfectly spotless white couch. “He is, I believe, working in his bookshop even at this very moment, very much unaware that I am here.”
“Aziraphale never left?” Now, Crowley blinked again. Two blinks within less than ten minutes. This had to be some kind of a record. “But the letter said he’d be replaced!” It wasn’t until the words had left his mouth that he figured it might not be the best idea to let Aziraphale’s superior know that the angel was informing him of his orders.
Raphael didn’t appear surprised at all, though. “We are definitely not going to send him away just because I am here,” he said. “In fact, the general opinion was very strongly against sending him anywhere else. If the Antichrist is sleeping with a demon, we figured the best way to prevent his possible slide to the other side would be keeping the angelic influence in his life as a constant thing. And the best way to accomplish that, we felt, is through you, by Aziraphale.”
“The general opinion of whom?” asked Crowley, leaning against the wall. It didn’t seem like the archangel was going to leave any time soon. “The whole of Heaven? The upper class? You and your sock puppets?”
“Now, now. There is no need to be rude,” Raphael said admonishingly. “I mean the general opinion of the archangels, of course. Gabriel seemed a bit reluctant, but he agreed in the end. We ensured that Aziraphale is going to stay on Earth with a combined order from us all. It would take at least three of us to cancel that and recall him for more than a few days, and as both I and Michael are strongly against it that is hardly going to be a problem. Gabriel, as I said, was rather reluctant, and Uriel didn’t make his opinion known. He rarely does.”
Crowley thought back to the days of Heaven and the archangels. While Uriel had always seemed quite open, in truth he had never actually let anybody know what he thought about anything, confusing them with superficial matters. “No, I guess he didn’t,” he said. “But if Aziraphale is going to stay, why are you here, then?”
“Why, to deal with you, of course.” Raphael smiled brightly. “Aziraphale is the only one who is going to have regular contact with you, of course, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Well, I and the other archangels. They might make a visit every now and then until we are sure things have stabilized around here.”
“They are going to come here? Michael and Uriel and Gabriel?” Again, Crowley blinked.
“All at once? …Are you sure the city will survive that? Forget that, do you think the country will still stand afterwards?”
“Oh, I am fairly sure indeed,” Raphael said, still smiling. “Now, I fear I will have to retire from your delightful company. I bid you goodbye, and I sincerely hope that things will go as smoothly in the future as they have until now. I hope to see you again, Prince Crowley.” And, with this, he was suddenly away.
For a moment Crowley just stared at the now vacant spot on the couch that the archangel had occupied just moments before. Then he cursed and turned around.
He needed to get very, very drunk very, very soon.
***
As it seemed that there was no getting rid of his new position, Crowley decided to just make use of it. So, he gave his first ever order to lesser beings. Well, the first ever order he could remember, anyway. (Sure, he hadn’t been on the very bottom of Hell’s ranks even before, but he just wasn’t the bossy type when there was no need to be.)
Being very much vengeful and proud of it - he was a demon, after all - he demoted Hastur. Quite enjoying this chance, he pushed the former Duke as low as he could get away with. And, being a Prince, he could get away with almost anything.
Nobody would ever question him about it. In Hell, orders given just to get back at an old enemy were more of a rule than an exception.
It made him feel better for a while. Quite a long while, actually. However, it still didn’t make him happy about the change.
He supposed he would have to forgive Adam at some point, though. After all, he had meant well. And those blue eyes could have just as well belonged to a real puppy dog, considering how well the boy used them for puppy-eyed forgiveness-begging.
Crowley was a demon, and demons did not give in to puppy eyes. However, most demons had never had to deal with puppy eyes made by an Antichrist.
***
“You will be the death of me.”
“No, I won’t,” Adam replied with a perfectly calm tone. “I will make sure of that.” His fingertips traced intricate patterns on the demon’s chest. “Admit it. You just can’t stay mad at me for long.”
“Of course I can’t,” Crowley grumbled. “After all, you wouldn’t like that.”
“Is that what you really think?” Now, the blue eyes were more serious than Crowley had ever seen them. “That I used my powers to make you forgive me?”
“Point one, kid: demons don’t forgive,” Crowley said, rolling his eyes. “We just conveniently choose to ignore certain details that would be difficult to deal with on a long-term basis, given enough reasons to do so. And point two: yes, that is exactly what I think. I don’t care if you’re doing it intentionally or not. Maybe it’s just your sub-consciousness at work, but there’s no way in Hell your powers wouldn’t affect our relationship in any way.”
“Don’t say that,” Adam said quietly, sounding hurt. “I would never manipulate you in such a way.”
“Maybe not intentionally, no,” the demon replied. “But I’m rather certain you do use them unintentionally and without even realizing you’re doing so. Which of course brings up the question… Did I ever truly feel anything for you? Or did those feelings develop just because you wanted me to feel those things? Is this really a relationship or just a manifestation of your abilities?”
Now, Adam didn’t say anything for a while. The fingers tracing images over Crowley’s chest faltered a bit, though. Finally, the young man asked, “How long have you been thinking like that? Why did you never talk about it before?”
“I guess I truly started thinking about it after I got promoted,” Crowley sighed.
“Away from your immediate presence, I started to question things. Oh, I still felt all the same feelings, but… When I’m with you, it’s hard to even think that things could be any other way. I just want to be with you, lust for you, even,” he swallowed, “love you. There is never any uncertainty in it. And when you are away, I still feel all those things, but I’m no more sure it is the way things should be.”
Adam looked very close to being heartbroken. This made Crowley sigh. “Look, just forget it,” he said softly. “It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. And we’ll never find out the truth, anyway.”
“How can I forget something like that?” asked Adam. “This is a real issue - perhaps one we should have discussed even earlier. Preferably at the very beginning.”
“What would it have mattered anyway? As I said, we’ll never find out whether my feelings for you are artificial.”
“We could, though.” Adam rolled onto his back, gazing at the ceiling. “Angels can sense love, you know.”
“Well, in that case, Aziraphale would have known,” Crowley snorted. “Yet he still keeps asking me whether I truly care for you or if I’m just messing around.”
“Didn’t he say he was almost immune to your aura, though? And Aziraphale’s angelic senses might be dull after all these years spent with humans. There is a slight difference between the way humans love and the way angels and demons do. He might just not be capable of it, but other angels probably could find out the truth.”
“What other angels?” asked Crowley, and regretted it as soon as he had said it. “…Not Raphael.”
“If you don’t want it to be him, there are always the other archangels, if they do visit,” Adam pointed out. “And I’m not saying we have to ask them. But if you are unsure, I would rather you find out for certain. It would be better for both of us, no matter what the result is. And if anybody, an archangel should be able to figure it out.”
"The others are even worse," Crowley muttered. He hid his face in the pillow, muttering something so quietly no human could have heard it.
Adam, however, was not entirely human. Therefore, he heard, "I'm not sure I want to find out."
***
Crowley sighed as he stopped the Bentley in front of the bookshop. Adam glanced at him questioningly but didn't say anything.
As usual, Crowley didn't bother knocking. The worst he could expect was Raphael there with Aziraphale, right? Thus, he simply opened the door and marched in. However, right on the inside, he froze. Only Adam pushing his back got him to take a step further.
Instead of one archangel, there were four.
"Ah, there you are, Prince Crowley!" Raphael said cheerfully. "And Adam, too. We were just about to come for a visit.
Crowley didn't answer. He just stared in vague horror. Aziraphale, the one who should have been in the bookshop, was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was Raphael, cheerful as ever, Michael in clothing of solely black, Gabriel in a t-shirt and jeans - he was most familiar with the human culture, after all - and Uriel in a suit.
Upon seeing them, Michael immediately drew his sword. "Prepare to battle, vile beast!" he shouted fiercely.
Uriel sighed. "No, no, no, Michael. This is the nice demon, remember? We aren't supposed to harm him. Adam might get upset if we did." Glancing at Gabriel, he raised an eyebrow at the other archangel, who nodded in return. Gabriel took the slightly grumbling Michael by the arm and started to lead him away.
"So... what brings you here?" Raphael asked then happily. "Surely you have some reason for coming, or is this just a pleasure visit?
"Well... I'm not sure how to say this," Crowley muttered. Heaven, why did it have to be so awkward?
"We're not sure whether Crowley truly feels anything for me or are the feelings caused by my powers," Adam came to his rescue. "So, I suggested that an angel might be able to tell true feelings from artificial."
"Nothing else?" Uriel blinked. "The love is real. Nothing artificial there."
"Wow," Raphael said, looking impressed. "I couldn't have told the difference right away. But now that I think about it, you are right," he then added, gazing thoughtfully at Crowley.
The demon resisted the strong urge to squirm in discomfort. "Are you sure?" he asked with a slightly accusing tone. "And how can I know that you aren't lying?"
“Why on Earth would I lie about such a thing? Besides, I wouldn’t lie even if Jesus Himself came to me and asked me to,” the archangel said dryly. “And if you think Adam might be controlling my actions, well, in that case there is nobody in the world save Himself who can fix the things, so stop complaining and enjoy yourself. Honestly. Angelic relationships are perfect material for a bad soap opera at times, but it seems others are even worse.”
“What would you know about soap operas?” asked Crowley, more to get himself time to think than for any other reason. Prince of Hell or not, it really wasn’t wise to annoy an archangel.
“I know the basic concept,” replied Uriel. “After hearing the comparison 1,537 times, I decided to find out just what it was about. And yes, I did keep count.”
"Typical, really," Aziraphale sighed from the doorway leading to the backroom. Apparently Gabriel's presence was something he'd rather not experience too much, and he thus now returned to the bookshop. "You are the only one I know who would count such things."
"Well, you are the only one I know who knows the Bible by heart and still has more copies than most people ever see," Uriel said calmly. "Let us all have our own little quirks and leave it at that."
Aziraphale nodded with a slight smile. Then he turned to look at Crowley and Adam.
"Ah, good evening," he said. "I've been trying to convince the archangels that neither of you means any harm. For the most part they seem to believe me."
"Well, you have just confirmed my former opinion," Raphael said happily. "Prince Crowley truly is, while a demon, not a trouble-maker. You'll have to forgive Michael, though," he then added apologetically. "When we discuss things by ourselves, he behaves rationally, but the smallest whiff of demonic aura is enough to push him over the edge. It's not his fault, really; he was just made that way."
"I don't care as long as he keeps that sword away from me," muttered Crowley. "But please try to keep him in leash. I haven't fought with any angels for at least three centuries, and I'd like to keep it that way. It's easier for both sides that way."
"So I've been led to believe." Raphael smiled. "I'm sure everything will be all right!"
"I'm not so sure," Crowley sighed. "But it never hurts to hope, right?"
***
The bookshop was closed for the day.
Now, this in itself was hardly anything unusual. Crowley knew better than well that Aziraphale hated regular opening hours. Somebody might even come and try to buy some of his precious books. However, what was unusual was that he couldn't open the door to the shop. At all.
This was definitely unordinary. No matter what was going on, Crowley had always been able to get the bookshop's door open, locked or not. Now, however, it stayed shut.
He frowned. Aziraphale never left anywhere without telling him - or at least he never had before. Where was the angel now? And why hadn't he said anything? Or was he simply locked up in his shop for whatever ridiculous reason?
Determined to find out, he concentrated. A moment later, the door was open. After all, Aziraphale was a mere Principality, and whether he liked it or not, Crowley was a Prince of Hell now. He could just as well use some of the new powers he had.
The bookshop was, rather surprisingly, empty. After a moment's hesitation Crowley went to the backroom, only to find it empty as well. Quite a bit more hesitant now, he started to walk up the stairs, carefully avoiding the one creaky stair the angel had never bothered to fix and wouldn't let him fix, either.
The little apartment at the top of the stairs was cleaner than he had expected it to be. The few times he had been there earlier it had been dim and dusty, but Aziraphale probably had cleaned it in preparation for the archangel's visit. The tiny kitchen seemed used, but empty nevertheless. The same went for the book-filled study.
At last, Crowley stood before the door to Aziraphale's bedroom. As far as he knew, nobody had ever actually slept there. What exactly would Aziraphale be doing there?
However, he sensed a hint of angelic powers from within the room. So Aziraphale was indeed there. Drawing a deep breath and reminding himself that he was a Prince, for Heaven's sake, he set his hand on the handle and pressed.
The door opened with the slightest creak. After a moment's hesitation Crowley peeked in. There was somebody in the bed.
"Aziraphale?" he called carefully. "Aziraphale, is... is something wrong?"
A head was raised from the pillow. However, it was not Aziraphale's.
"Do be quiet and leave, please," Raphael said calmly. "Aziraphale is quite... worn out." The archangel grinned and stretched a bit. It was quite apparent that he was wearing nothing underneath the sheets.
Crowley didn't need to tell twice. Turning around, he hurried out of the bedroom, apartment, and bookshop.
Adam was waiting for him, leaning against the Bentley. "Did you get your curiosity satisfied?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Too well," Crowley muttered, very pale. "Let's go."
Adam laughed and settled into the car beside him. Crowley started the car and sped off, wanting to get as far from the bookshop as possible at the moment. Of course he had known that Aziraphale held little interest for the female of the species, but still... an archangel? That was indeed a shock to say the least!
There was a hand on his arm, he noticed, and smiled faintly. Glancing to the side, he saw the Antichrist smiling brightly at him.
...Well, perhaps he wasn't one to speak. And he was glad about that.
*end*
Happy Holidays, aviss, from your Secret Writer/Artist!
Recipient: aviss
Author/Artist: draconn_malfoy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Adam turns 21, and the information provided by one of his gifts
starts to bug him. From there, things get further. Adam/Crowley,
Aziraphale/Raphael.
Author notes: This got longer than it was meant to, but... I hope it is okay
nevertheless. Also, the blue thing over Adam's hand? It's supposed to
symbolize the Earth.
Of course, one doesn’t turn twenty-one every day. In fact, it only happens once in a lifetime (unless time travel and/or wormholes are involved). Therefore, it is customary to celebrate this unique occasion with one’s friends and relatives.
Sometimes, it naturally happens so that some of one’s preferred guests are unavailable during the important occasion. Now, there are several ways to react to that. One option might be being childish and trying to guilt them into either cancelling whatever previous engagements they have or just make them terribly, horribly guilty for missing the celebration. If the birthday truly is the twenty-first one, however, this way of action is often considered immature.
Another way of coping might be to simply accept the fact and their congratulations without any further complaints. And then there is the way of inviting the parties involved - or possibly allowing them to invite themselves - for a belated celebration later on.
The latter was the way Adam Young chose when Crowley simply couldn’t be there on his birthday. This was also the reason why he was currently alone with the demon.
“I hope you had fun,” Crowley said, then smirked. “Of course, that would be quite difficult without me around, wouldn’t it?”
“I do fear so,” Adam said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “If nothing else, the presents were quite entertaining.”
“Ah, yes. Aziraphale told me he gave you Picture of Dorian Gray. I just hope it isn’t an omen of some kind,” the demon said amusedly.
“Have no fear,” Adam replied with equal amount of amusement. “I’m not about to become all evil and immoral and stuff. Would be bad for the fate of the world, you see.”
“I should hope not.” Crowley made a face. “The mere thought of a world where you are evil is too terrifying even for me. And I’m a demon.”
“Don’t worry. I plan on staying neutral for the time being.” Then, Adam grinned.
“Although the best gift of all was Pepper’s - at least if by ‘best’ you mean ‘most useless’ or ‘most amusing’. Wait a minute, I’ll get it!”
Crowley waited with a certain amount of patience. After a moment Adam returned, holding something that looked like a pendant made of feathers and plastic gems.
“Apparently this is a virgin detector,” Adam told with an amused grin. “I don’t know how she’s made it work, but supposedly the gems start to flash whenever there’s a virgin present. There, you see,” he then said, pointing at the fake jewels. “They’re flashing again. I still haven’t figured out where the battery is hidden, but I don’t want to take it apart after she went to the trouble of building it.”
Crowley, however, didn’t even listen to the young Antichrist. He just stared at the pendant. “Either that’s the real thing, or it’s damn effective for a fake,” he muttered.
“What do you mean?” asked Adam with a small grimace. “For your information, I’m twenty and male, so the chances of me being an innocent virgin are pretty miserable, so -” For a moment he just stared at the demon as realization dawned on him. “Oh,” he said, and then again, “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed,” Crowley said dryly. “Sorry to break it to you, kid, but… yup, that’s me. Absolutely inexperienced. Sure, I can do a blessed fine job at seduction, but I’ve never had to follow through with my promises.”
Adam’s perfectly blue eyes were now wide as saucers. “Really? But I always thought… Aziraphale and you…”
“No, not Aziraphale and I.” Crowley sighed. “Everybody thinks that. Everybody. Even the nice old lady around the corner winks suggestively whenever she sees us together somewhere. Well, the truth is, we’re not! Together, that is. There is no ‘us’ when it comes to us. We’ve never had a relationship, we’ve never wanted one, and we don’t want one now, either. We’re not denying our feelings or afraid of our superiors’ reactions. We’re just friends, period. Nothing more. And I’m seriously going to do something horrible to the next person who suggests we are.”
“I’m sorry.” Adam grinned sheepishly. “I just… I just always assumed, I guess. You’re always together, and… Sorry.”
“That’s just it. Everybody ‘just assumes’. Well, stop assuming! Face the fucking facts! The only one Aziraphale’s been with - as far as I know, anyway - is Oscar fucking Wilde.”
“And you haven’t been with anyone.” Adam nodded. “Okay, got it.” He grinned, then. “I guess I could have known, really,” he said. “I just prefer not to poke into people’s private matters, so…"
"Now don't come telling me how you're so good and moral because you rather thought I'm fucking my best friend than poked around in my head to find the truth." Crowley made a face. "I know all about immorality."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess you do." Adam glanced at the detector that was still hanging from his hand. "So... this thing works, then?"
"Apparently," Crowley sighed. "I don't think it will work for too long, though. It's not powerful enough to do anything but look stupid once the week's over. Knowing you, though," he added dryly, "it will work perfectly well for the next two centuries and then start complaining that it wants to be paid for all its hard work."
At this, Adam laughed. If Crowley noticed anything odd about the tone of his laughter, he chose not to comment on it.
***
Adam was having trouble sleeping.
This was certainly something unusual. As far as he could remember, he had always slept like a baby - when he wasn’t too busy doing something else, that was. But now he wasn’t a ten-year-old reading beneath the covers in the light of a torch; he was twenty-one and he could read all he wanted without having to resort to such means. However, he didn’t want to read. He wanted to sleep, but couldn’t do it.
It was really quite frustrating.
There had to be something keeping him awake, right? It wasn’t like he was purposefully skipping sleep to torture himself. So what was it that was occupying his thoughts.
Oh, yes. It just had to be that, didn’t it? Black hair and a perfectly neat suit, a slight, almost unnoticeable hiss at the ‘s’s…
This had been a problem for quite some time now: Every now and then he found himself thinking about Crowley. At random points during the day his mind turned to golden eyes, good cheekbones, and a clever smirk. It was quite distracting, especially when he was trying to concentrate on something.
However, the worst it was when the thoughts came to him when he was alone. Then, he would be "distracted" in more than one way.
Adam had known for a while now that he liked women and men equally much. After all, he was all about neutrality, and it would have been unfair to like one gender over another. However, lately all his thoughts of such nature had been about Crowley.
This wasn’t good, he decided. He couldn’t afford himself to be so distracted. If he couldn’t get rid of the thoughts himself, he should just go and tell the demon about them. A good, old-fashioned rejection should work just fine to put an end to his distraction.
…Except if the demon did not reject him…
Oh, great. That thought was sure to keep him up all night long.
***
“Crowley?”
There was no vocal response. However, the questioningly raised eyebrow and just slight redirection of the sunglass-hidden gaze were enough of an answer to Adam. He was used to reading these signs - after all, he had been paying abnormal amounts of attention to them lately.
“I -” Adam took a deep breath, then said quickly, “I think I like you.” Never let it be said that he was one to beat around the bush.
For a moment Crowley stayed silent, just staring at him. In shock, most probably. Adam’s heart sank as he prepared to hear the words of rejection.
“…And why on Earth would you think that?” asked Crowley instead. His tone was one of disbelief, not that Adam was surprised. It wasn’t every day the only son of your boss said such things to you.
“Well… I think about you all the time,” Adam said, trying very hard not to blush. “Even when I don’t want to. I think you’re sexy. And, well, I like you. You’re witty and sarcastic and charming, and I like talking with you, and you’re not really on either Side. Don’t try to deny that, either. I’m omniscient when I want to be.”
Crowley sighed. “Look, as nice as that is to my demonic ego, just drop it,” he said. “It wouldn’t work. You’re young, good-looking, and most of all human. You don't need an old demon to mess with your head. There's this little thing called the world you also have to concern yourself with."
"I don't care." On a moment of courage, Adam set his hand on top of Crowley's. "You think I'm good-looking, eh? Well, that's a start." He grinned. "Now, go on flattering me."
"Demons don't flatter. They just lie to advance their temptations," Crowley muttered. However, he didn't pull his hand away. Adam took that as a good sign.
"Come on, you can lie better than that," the boy said, leaning a bit closer. "Can you honestly say you care nothing for me?"
"Yes," Crowley said. Adam could actually tell when he lied.
For a moment, Adam just watched Crowley, trying to predict his reactions. Finally, though, he leant further in and pressed a kiss on the demon's lips.
For a moment, Crowley was frozen. Then, however, he kissed him back.
Adam smiled inwardly. Success.
***
Crowley felt slightly dazed as Adam continued to kiss him, hands wandering over his chest. He tried to resist, really tried, but demons were not exactly designed for resisting temptations. Therefore, he eventually drew the young man closer, kissing him a bit harder.
When Adam's fingers started to tug at the waistband of his trousers, however, he froze. "Don't," he hissed. (No, there wasn't a single 's' in 'don't', but Crowley was an expert in hissing.)
"Oh, come on," Adam said, smirking. "Is the big and bad demon afraid?"
"I'm not afraid!" snapped Crowley in response, drawing back a bit to look at the boy properly. "I'm just - unsure."
"Unsure about what?" Adam questioned. "About whether you should run away screaming?"
"About whether you're good enough to give my blessed virginity to, you idiot," Crowley said. However, he didn't sound quite as self-confident as he usually did.
"Aw, come on. Virginity is just an embarrassing obstacle for a demon, isn't it? I'll just help you get rid of it. Besides," Adam added, now placing little kisses along Crowley's jaw line, "we can - go slow - if you - want to." He said the last words right into Crowley's ear along with a flicker of his tongue.
"And now you make me sound like a bloody blushing maiden," grumbled the demon. "I'm a man - well, most frequently male-shaped being - not some girl you have to be careful with."
"Pepper would kill you if she heard that," Adam commented. "And of course I have to be careful with you. After all," at this, he grinned, "I'm the more experienced one here. For once.”
With that, Crowley hardly could argue. His pride was trying to resist, telling he didn't need anybody going slow with him for Heaven's sake, but his reasonable side told him to ignore this. He'd been a virgin for six thousand years; he could very well wait for a bit.
...And since Adam didn't seem to mind waiting for some time, he could, perhaps, for once hesitate just the tiniest little bit...
***
Crowley gazed up at the ceiling, trying his very best to ignore the warm body of the dozing young man pressed against him. It was, however, a task he could not accomplish, as it turned out. Adam was just too, well, unignorable.
He had dreamed of this. Of course, he had always denied it - and he was very talented in the art of denial - but he had. The boy was just, well, perfect. Tall and slender, with golden curls and blue, blue eyes in a face formed like that of a Greek god. Add to that an incredible aura of power, a sense of humour, enough good intentions to make an angel sick and that irresistible smile... What he most wondered was how anybody could actually resist Adam. Surely he wasn't the only one who had fallen for the boy's charms?
Well, he thought then, at least he was currently the only one the boy was using his charms on actively. Or at least he assumed so; Adam was the loyal type as far as he could tell. How ironic, really - the son of Satan was the monogamous type in today's world of free love and casual cheating.
That was all good and well, though. Demons tended to be possessive.
Drawing the boy still a bit closer, Crowley cursed in his mind. Apparently there was no way out of this - Adam had made it pretty clear he didn't intend it to be just a one-nighter.
Well, then he'd better stop complaining and just enjoy himself.
***
Dinners at the Ritz. Feeding ducks. Talking, laughing, teasing, flirting, arguing. All familiar activities for Crowley.
However, the company he had was not quite what he was used to. The golden hair was similar, yes, but still, Adam was not Aziraphale.
For one thing, Crowley had never seriously considered kissing Aziraphale.
He still kept in touch with Aziraphale, of course, just not as actively now that he actually had something else to do with his time than just harassing the angel. Adam filled most of his days - and nights.
It still made him a bit embarrassed that he, a demon, was learning about sex from a (mostly) human boy. However, he enjoyed the learning process too much to actually complain.
And damn it, if he was going to better his demonic reputation by getting rid of his virginity (and rather embarrassing lack of sex experience), who the better to do it with than the Antichrist?
***
Of course, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Every relationship has its ups and downs, and not even the Antichrist could have a relationship so perfect as to never fight.
What neither of them could have expected, however, was that their first true disagreement would happen because of Adam trying to help Crowley.
Crowley didn't open the letter immediately. News from Hell was rarely good, and what counted as bad news from Hell was usually horrifying. Finally, though, he opened the letter, glancing at it. He didn't notice Adam's half curious, half worried gaze on himself as he started to read.
"A Prince?" Crowley exclaimed suddenly, staring at the paper in shock as though he hadn't believed his eyes. "I've been made a fucking Prince of Hell?!" He then turned to look at Adam, not saying anything. There was no need to say anything since the accusation was very clearly visible in his eyes.
"Yeah, well, about that," Adam said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "The rumour had it that Duke Hastur had it in for you. I just thought you'd like to be his superior..." He trailed off.
"Yeah, sure I want to be his superior. Fuck you. The better rank you have in Hell, the more people there are who want to stab your back to get to your place. Sure, maybe I wasn't much more than fish bait before, but at least I didn't have countless bloodthirsty bastards all wanting to get to my place. And do you realize how much duties Princes have? I'll never have a moment of peace! I'll even be required to show up in Hell every now and then!"
"Okay, so maybe I didn't think it through properly," Adam sighed. "But nobody will dare to try stabbing you in the back, you know. Once they know just who got you promoted, they won't dare even look at you badly."
"And I'll be known as your fucking protégé for the rest of the eternity," spat Crowley. "I can take care of myself, you know. I took care of Duke Ligur. And since when have you had influence in the official matters of Hell, anyway? I can understand why individual demons would fear you, but as far as I know, you're not involved in the real politics. Or are you?" he asked then suspiciously.
"I'd like to think you know me better than that," Adam said, sounding slightly hurt.
"It's just that my father - the real one - still hasn't given up hope on me turning to his side. I can get through a request or two every now and then."
"And when he realizes you'll never take his side, I'll be the first thing he uses to get to you," the demon said dryly. "Or when you die, if nothing else. You're mortal, right? Like Jesus was? One day you'll die and be free of all this shit, but I'll be a marked man for the rest of Time."
"Who says I won't take his side?" asked Adam back, blue eyes glinting challengingly.
"If you do take his side," Crowley said, "I'll fucking dive into a swimming pool full of holy water. I like the Earth, Adam. I like driving the Bentley and eating in good restaurants and tormenting houseplants and yes, even feeding ducks. And I don't particularly want it all to end."
"I like the Earth, too," Adam sighed. "And I don't want it to end, either. But I also like you and I don't want you to get harmed." His blue eyes looked at the demon, so sincere and innocent that they would have easily been voted the Most Innocent Eyes Ever. "Jesus was maybe mortal, but only until He died. After that He became immortal again. Even now, He could still be walking around on Earth; He just chooses not to. And I plan to stay around for a long, long time."
"I do hope so," grumbled Crowley. "Since if you leave me alone to deal with all this shit you caused me to get into, I'll bloody resurrect you and then kill you again with my own bare hands."
"Don't worry," Adam said, drawing the demon into his arms despite the protests. "I'm not going to leave you alone any time soon. In fact, I'm not going to leave you alone, period."
"Let's hope the Son of Satan is better at keeping his word than his father is, then." Crowley grimaced. "I hate digging graves open." Then, suddenly, he struggled his way out of Adam’s embrace. “Right now, I need some space to think,” he said, the tiny hiss on his ‘s’s now clearer than usually. “I’ll call you when I’m able to talk again.”
Adam was left behind, gazing after the demon like a lost puppy.
***
"Crowley, you idiot!"
Now, there were many things Crowley might have expected to hear upon entering the bookshop, but this was not one of them. Blinking in surprise, he looked at the angel questioningly. "Aziraphale?" he asked. "What is it?"
"This." The angel waved a roll of parchment in the air. "When exactly were you planning to tell me, hmm?"
"That doesn't really tell me what is wrong, you know," Crowley said, slightly irritated. "It'd help a lot if I actually knew the contents of that parchment."
"The contents of it, eh? Very well." Aziraphale opened the roll and started to read, his tone clearly irritated. "Dear Aziraphale, it has come to our knowledge that your status is no more sufficient to deal with the demon currently assigned to Earth. Due to this, you are to give up your position to somebody more capable of handling the situation. Expect a replacement within the next week. And then a lot of the usual bureaucracy," Aziraphale summarized the end of the letter. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Prince of Hell, Crowley! That's not just something you keep a secret!"
"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret!" Crowley yelled. "I thought you could figure it out by yourself! Did it ever even occur to you that my aura was stronger than before?"
"Crowley, after all these years, I hardly even notice your aura," Aziraphale said. "I'm mostly immune to it unless you choose to show off. And I thought we were friends!" he then said with a hurt tone. "That we could trust each other! And now - now you do this and don't even have the guts to tell me beforehand!"
"Look, I haven't done anything!" Crowley said, irritated. "I didn't want this! If I could, I'd get demoted again! This is all Adam's fault so don't start yelling at me!"
"Well, all right. Then Adam will surely deal with the situation when you try to get along with an archangel without levelling half of the city!"
"An archangel?" Crowley paled. He might have been more powerful now, but he didn't want to face an archangel! He didn't want to face any angels, in fact. The Arrangement worked so well, he didn't want it to end. Why, oh, why did Adam always have to do things too well?
"Yes, an archangel. In case you managed to forget it, an archangel is the equivalent Heavenly rank of a Prince." Aziraphale glared at him. "I'll be holding you responsible if anything happens to my books while I am away," he said.
"While you are away? Are you going somewhere?" Crowley's head was beginning to ache. There were too many things happening at once.
"Didn't you listen? I'm to expect a replacement. I'll have to give up my position. That means I will have to return to Heaven!" There was an almost pained look on the angel's face now. "I don't know what Adam was thinking. However, I seriously hope he will be capable of handling this."
Crowley wanted to say that Adam could deal with it easily. After all, he had once prevented the end of the world. However, this time it wasn't the Earth that was in danger - it was Crowley's own, personal world.
And it was slowly falling apart.
***
There was a knock on Crowley’s door early in the morning. A very loud knock, and too early, the demon decided as he dragged himself out of the bed. Being awake before noon should be illegal. He would have looked into actually establishing a law against it if that hadn’t meant that being awake before noon was the proper demonic thing to do.
“If this is you, Adam,” he said grumpily before the door was even properly open, “I swear I’ll kick you to the stairway. I do not like getting up early.” If it was Aziraphale, he didn’t know what he’d do. Aziraphale at least usually knew not to disturb him before he was properly awake unless it was very important.
“Ah, well. I shall remember that in the future,” said a cheerful voice that belonged neither to Adam nor to Aziraphale. “For now, though, you will have to forgive me.”
Crowley gave one of his rare blinks as he actually looked at the being standing at his doorstep. There was warm brown hair with a few blonde highlights. The perfect six feet of height were present, too. And blue, blue eyes that would have made a summer sky turn green in envy.
There had to be a worse way of starting a day than waking up to find a cheerful archangel at his door. Given enough time he might even think of one.
Without thinking too much about it Crowley threw the door shut. He was not ready to deal with this right now. In fact, he wasn’t ready to deal with this, period. Maybe he was a Prince of Hell at the moment but that didn’t mean he wanted to have anything to do with the archangels.
Apparently, though, he wasn’t given a choice. The door was opened and the angel stepped in despite obviously not being welcome. “Now, that is no way to greet your guests,” he said calmly. “How about we try that again?”
“Okay. Get the fuck out of my house,” Crowley hissed. At the same time he conjured himself a proper set of clothes. Adam or Aziraphale he could very well face in just his pyjama bottoms, but an archangel was a different matter. (Not that he minded it for reasons of decency - he was very much comfortable with only his skin - but it was much easier to appear respectable when you were properly dressed. And right now he was going to need every bit of help he could get.)
“I don’t think so.” The archangel smiled, not unkindly. “Now. I believe there are a few matters we need to solve. For one thing, this… surprising… promotion of yours.”
“Oh, great,” sighed Crowley. “Look, Raphael, I didn’t want this. I was perfectly content as a low-class demon nobody paid much attention to. I’m not about to cause any more trouble than I did before. You can fucking go back to Heaven and send Aziraphale back here.”
Raphael blinked in surprise. “Aziraphale never left,” he informed Crowley, casually taking a seat on Crowley’s perfectly spotless white couch. “He is, I believe, working in his bookshop even at this very moment, very much unaware that I am here.”
“Aziraphale never left?” Now, Crowley blinked again. Two blinks within less than ten minutes. This had to be some kind of a record. “But the letter said he’d be replaced!” It wasn’t until the words had left his mouth that he figured it might not be the best idea to let Aziraphale’s superior know that the angel was informing him of his orders.
Raphael didn’t appear surprised at all, though. “We are definitely not going to send him away just because I am here,” he said. “In fact, the general opinion was very strongly against sending him anywhere else. If the Antichrist is sleeping with a demon, we figured the best way to prevent his possible slide to the other side would be keeping the angelic influence in his life as a constant thing. And the best way to accomplish that, we felt, is through you, by Aziraphale.”
“The general opinion of whom?” asked Crowley, leaning against the wall. It didn’t seem like the archangel was going to leave any time soon. “The whole of Heaven? The upper class? You and your sock puppets?”
“Now, now. There is no need to be rude,” Raphael said admonishingly. “I mean the general opinion of the archangels, of course. Gabriel seemed a bit reluctant, but he agreed in the end. We ensured that Aziraphale is going to stay on Earth with a combined order from us all. It would take at least three of us to cancel that and recall him for more than a few days, and as both I and Michael are strongly against it that is hardly going to be a problem. Gabriel, as I said, was rather reluctant, and Uriel didn’t make his opinion known. He rarely does.”
Crowley thought back to the days of Heaven and the archangels. While Uriel had always seemed quite open, in truth he had never actually let anybody know what he thought about anything, confusing them with superficial matters. “No, I guess he didn’t,” he said. “But if Aziraphale is going to stay, why are you here, then?”
“Why, to deal with you, of course.” Raphael smiled brightly. “Aziraphale is the only one who is going to have regular contact with you, of course, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Well, I and the other archangels. They might make a visit every now and then until we are sure things have stabilized around here.”
“They are going to come here? Michael and Uriel and Gabriel?” Again, Crowley blinked.
“All at once? …Are you sure the city will survive that? Forget that, do you think the country will still stand afterwards?”
“Oh, I am fairly sure indeed,” Raphael said, still smiling. “Now, I fear I will have to retire from your delightful company. I bid you goodbye, and I sincerely hope that things will go as smoothly in the future as they have until now. I hope to see you again, Prince Crowley.” And, with this, he was suddenly away.
For a moment Crowley just stared at the now vacant spot on the couch that the archangel had occupied just moments before. Then he cursed and turned around.
He needed to get very, very drunk very, very soon.
***
As it seemed that there was no getting rid of his new position, Crowley decided to just make use of it. So, he gave his first ever order to lesser beings. Well, the first ever order he could remember, anyway. (Sure, he hadn’t been on the very bottom of Hell’s ranks even before, but he just wasn’t the bossy type when there was no need to be.)
Being very much vengeful and proud of it - he was a demon, after all - he demoted Hastur. Quite enjoying this chance, he pushed the former Duke as low as he could get away with. And, being a Prince, he could get away with almost anything.
Nobody would ever question him about it. In Hell, orders given just to get back at an old enemy were more of a rule than an exception.
It made him feel better for a while. Quite a long while, actually. However, it still didn’t make him happy about the change.
He supposed he would have to forgive Adam at some point, though. After all, he had meant well. And those blue eyes could have just as well belonged to a real puppy dog, considering how well the boy used them for puppy-eyed forgiveness-begging.
Crowley was a demon, and demons did not give in to puppy eyes. However, most demons had never had to deal with puppy eyes made by an Antichrist.
***
“You will be the death of me.”
“No, I won’t,” Adam replied with a perfectly calm tone. “I will make sure of that.” His fingertips traced intricate patterns on the demon’s chest. “Admit it. You just can’t stay mad at me for long.”
“Of course I can’t,” Crowley grumbled. “After all, you wouldn’t like that.”
“Is that what you really think?” Now, the blue eyes were more serious than Crowley had ever seen them. “That I used my powers to make you forgive me?”
“Point one, kid: demons don’t forgive,” Crowley said, rolling his eyes. “We just conveniently choose to ignore certain details that would be difficult to deal with on a long-term basis, given enough reasons to do so. And point two: yes, that is exactly what I think. I don’t care if you’re doing it intentionally or not. Maybe it’s just your sub-consciousness at work, but there’s no way in Hell your powers wouldn’t affect our relationship in any way.”
“Don’t say that,” Adam said quietly, sounding hurt. “I would never manipulate you in such a way.”
“Maybe not intentionally, no,” the demon replied. “But I’m rather certain you do use them unintentionally and without even realizing you’re doing so. Which of course brings up the question… Did I ever truly feel anything for you? Or did those feelings develop just because you wanted me to feel those things? Is this really a relationship or just a manifestation of your abilities?”
Now, Adam didn’t say anything for a while. The fingers tracing images over Crowley’s chest faltered a bit, though. Finally, the young man asked, “How long have you been thinking like that? Why did you never talk about it before?”
“I guess I truly started thinking about it after I got promoted,” Crowley sighed.
“Away from your immediate presence, I started to question things. Oh, I still felt all the same feelings, but… When I’m with you, it’s hard to even think that things could be any other way. I just want to be with you, lust for you, even,” he swallowed, “love you. There is never any uncertainty in it. And when you are away, I still feel all those things, but I’m no more sure it is the way things should be.”
Adam looked very close to being heartbroken. This made Crowley sigh. “Look, just forget it,” he said softly. “It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. And we’ll never find out the truth, anyway.”
“How can I forget something like that?” asked Adam. “This is a real issue - perhaps one we should have discussed even earlier. Preferably at the very beginning.”
“What would it have mattered anyway? As I said, we’ll never find out whether my feelings for you are artificial.”
“We could, though.” Adam rolled onto his back, gazing at the ceiling. “Angels can sense love, you know.”
“Well, in that case, Aziraphale would have known,” Crowley snorted. “Yet he still keeps asking me whether I truly care for you or if I’m just messing around.”
“Didn’t he say he was almost immune to your aura, though? And Aziraphale’s angelic senses might be dull after all these years spent with humans. There is a slight difference between the way humans love and the way angels and demons do. He might just not be capable of it, but other angels probably could find out the truth.”
“What other angels?” asked Crowley, and regretted it as soon as he had said it. “…Not Raphael.”
“If you don’t want it to be him, there are always the other archangels, if they do visit,” Adam pointed out. “And I’m not saying we have to ask them. But if you are unsure, I would rather you find out for certain. It would be better for both of us, no matter what the result is. And if anybody, an archangel should be able to figure it out.”
"The others are even worse," Crowley muttered. He hid his face in the pillow, muttering something so quietly no human could have heard it.
Adam, however, was not entirely human. Therefore, he heard, "I'm not sure I want to find out."
***
Crowley sighed as he stopped the Bentley in front of the bookshop. Adam glanced at him questioningly but didn't say anything.
As usual, Crowley didn't bother knocking. The worst he could expect was Raphael there with Aziraphale, right? Thus, he simply opened the door and marched in. However, right on the inside, he froze. Only Adam pushing his back got him to take a step further.
Instead of one archangel, there were four.
"Ah, there you are, Prince Crowley!" Raphael said cheerfully. "And Adam, too. We were just about to come for a visit.
Crowley didn't answer. He just stared in vague horror. Aziraphale, the one who should have been in the bookshop, was nowhere to be seen. Instead there was Raphael, cheerful as ever, Michael in clothing of solely black, Gabriel in a t-shirt and jeans - he was most familiar with the human culture, after all - and Uriel in a suit.
Upon seeing them, Michael immediately drew his sword. "Prepare to battle, vile beast!" he shouted fiercely.
Uriel sighed. "No, no, no, Michael. This is the nice demon, remember? We aren't supposed to harm him. Adam might get upset if we did." Glancing at Gabriel, he raised an eyebrow at the other archangel, who nodded in return. Gabriel took the slightly grumbling Michael by the arm and started to lead him away.
"So... what brings you here?" Raphael asked then happily. "Surely you have some reason for coming, or is this just a pleasure visit?
"Well... I'm not sure how to say this," Crowley muttered. Heaven, why did it have to be so awkward?
"We're not sure whether Crowley truly feels anything for me or are the feelings caused by my powers," Adam came to his rescue. "So, I suggested that an angel might be able to tell true feelings from artificial."
"Nothing else?" Uriel blinked. "The love is real. Nothing artificial there."
"Wow," Raphael said, looking impressed. "I couldn't have told the difference right away. But now that I think about it, you are right," he then added, gazing thoughtfully at Crowley.
The demon resisted the strong urge to squirm in discomfort. "Are you sure?" he asked with a slightly accusing tone. "And how can I know that you aren't lying?"
“Why on Earth would I lie about such a thing? Besides, I wouldn’t lie even if Jesus Himself came to me and asked me to,” the archangel said dryly. “And if you think Adam might be controlling my actions, well, in that case there is nobody in the world save Himself who can fix the things, so stop complaining and enjoy yourself. Honestly. Angelic relationships are perfect material for a bad soap opera at times, but it seems others are even worse.”
“What would you know about soap operas?” asked Crowley, more to get himself time to think than for any other reason. Prince of Hell or not, it really wasn’t wise to annoy an archangel.
“I know the basic concept,” replied Uriel. “After hearing the comparison 1,537 times, I decided to find out just what it was about. And yes, I did keep count.”
"Typical, really," Aziraphale sighed from the doorway leading to the backroom. Apparently Gabriel's presence was something he'd rather not experience too much, and he thus now returned to the bookshop. "You are the only one I know who would count such things."
"Well, you are the only one I know who knows the Bible by heart and still has more copies than most people ever see," Uriel said calmly. "Let us all have our own little quirks and leave it at that."
Aziraphale nodded with a slight smile. Then he turned to look at Crowley and Adam.
"Ah, good evening," he said. "I've been trying to convince the archangels that neither of you means any harm. For the most part they seem to believe me."
"Well, you have just confirmed my former opinion," Raphael said happily. "Prince Crowley truly is, while a demon, not a trouble-maker. You'll have to forgive Michael, though," he then added apologetically. "When we discuss things by ourselves, he behaves rationally, but the smallest whiff of demonic aura is enough to push him over the edge. It's not his fault, really; he was just made that way."
"I don't care as long as he keeps that sword away from me," muttered Crowley. "But please try to keep him in leash. I haven't fought with any angels for at least three centuries, and I'd like to keep it that way. It's easier for both sides that way."
"So I've been led to believe." Raphael smiled. "I'm sure everything will be all right!"
"I'm not so sure," Crowley sighed. "But it never hurts to hope, right?"
***
The bookshop was closed for the day.
Now, this in itself was hardly anything unusual. Crowley knew better than well that Aziraphale hated regular opening hours. Somebody might even come and try to buy some of his precious books. However, what was unusual was that he couldn't open the door to the shop. At all.
This was definitely unordinary. No matter what was going on, Crowley had always been able to get the bookshop's door open, locked or not. Now, however, it stayed shut.
He frowned. Aziraphale never left anywhere without telling him - or at least he never had before. Where was the angel now? And why hadn't he said anything? Or was he simply locked up in his shop for whatever ridiculous reason?
Determined to find out, he concentrated. A moment later, the door was open. After all, Aziraphale was a mere Principality, and whether he liked it or not, Crowley was a Prince of Hell now. He could just as well use some of the new powers he had.
The bookshop was, rather surprisingly, empty. After a moment's hesitation Crowley went to the backroom, only to find it empty as well. Quite a bit more hesitant now, he started to walk up the stairs, carefully avoiding the one creaky stair the angel had never bothered to fix and wouldn't let him fix, either.
The little apartment at the top of the stairs was cleaner than he had expected it to be. The few times he had been there earlier it had been dim and dusty, but Aziraphale probably had cleaned it in preparation for the archangel's visit. The tiny kitchen seemed used, but empty nevertheless. The same went for the book-filled study.
At last, Crowley stood before the door to Aziraphale's bedroom. As far as he knew, nobody had ever actually slept there. What exactly would Aziraphale be doing there?
However, he sensed a hint of angelic powers from within the room. So Aziraphale was indeed there. Drawing a deep breath and reminding himself that he was a Prince, for Heaven's sake, he set his hand on the handle and pressed.
The door opened with the slightest creak. After a moment's hesitation Crowley peeked in. There was somebody in the bed.
"Aziraphale?" he called carefully. "Aziraphale, is... is something wrong?"
A head was raised from the pillow. However, it was not Aziraphale's.
"Do be quiet and leave, please," Raphael said calmly. "Aziraphale is quite... worn out." The archangel grinned and stretched a bit. It was quite apparent that he was wearing nothing underneath the sheets.
Crowley didn't need to tell twice. Turning around, he hurried out of the bedroom, apartment, and bookshop.
Adam was waiting for him, leaning against the Bentley. "Did you get your curiosity satisfied?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Too well," Crowley muttered, very pale. "Let's go."
Adam laughed and settled into the car beside him. Crowley started the car and sped off, wanting to get as far from the bookshop as possible at the moment. Of course he had known that Aziraphale held little interest for the female of the species, but still... an archangel? That was indeed a shock to say the least!
There was a hand on his arm, he noticed, and smiled faintly. Glancing to the side, he saw the Antichrist smiling brightly at him.
...Well, perhaps he wasn't one to speak. And he was glad about that.
*end*
Happy Holidays, aviss, from your Secret Writer/Artist!