004 | Restoration

[eyesofaserpent]

[Crowley has been searching for his sunglasses for the past five and a half weeks. All of which he's had to do manually since he's been as weak as a normal human the entire time. And recently he found the only thing better than his powers: Aziraphale.

All in all, Crowley's in a good mood. Sex will do that. And it's about to get better

Comments

[misplacedsword]

Oh, excellent! I knew you'd find them, my dear.

[He wisely doesn't add something like, 'if you just had faith,' and instead simply beams at Crowley.]

[eyesofaserpent]

[His face lights up even more when he hears his angel's voice. He spins toward him, that dashing, rakish grin on his face that only showed up when everything was right in his life¹. The demon swoops over and wraps the angel up in a big bear hug.]

Isn't it wonderful?

¹Usually this meant that something was terribly, horribly wrong in someone else's life (or just a little bit wrong in a bunch of people's lives).

[misplacedsword]

[He's a bit surprised at the exuberance of the hug, but he returns it with a smile, wrapping his arms gently around Crowley.]

It's wonderful to see you happy, my dear.

[And generally makes him quite suspicious, since there's often a reason behind it that makes Aziraphale disapprove. But in this case, there's nothing but affection and genuine pleasure.]

[eyesofaserpent]

[He grasps the angel's hands and spins them around in a circle, not particularly caring if anyone sees them.]

How could I not be happy. I have my powers back and I have my angel back.

[misplacedsword]

[Aziraphale is thoroughly amused now, smiling widely as Crowley spins them around. He doesn't bother to hide the tender affection that crosses his face when Crowley includes having him in the cause for his happiness, though he says nothing about it.]

I'm sure no longer having to rely on me to provide your wardrobe is a great relief.

[eyesofaserpent]

[He draws him in for a gentle kiss, an amused smirk on his face. He was in much too good a mood to let a little dig like that bother him.]

Hush. You picked well for me. Surprisingly. I half expected you to make something tweed.

I did notice the tartan lining in that one jacket though, you sly devil.

[misplacedsword]

[Aziraphale kisses him back, not at all surprised at how natural it feels to do so.]

You wound me. As though I would be so cruel as to provide you only with clothing I knew you disliked when you were unable to do anything about it. However misguided your dislike may be.

[But he's smiling, because he's perfectly aware that if Crowley hadn't been so upset over the loss of his powers, there probably would have been tweed. And then his smile widens.]

It seems I can't get anything past you. Variety is the spice of life, they say?

[eyesofaserpent]

[He grins, proud.]

Devious little bastard. I'm so proud of you.

[misplacedsword]

That's not devious. That's encouraging the person one loves to try different things.

[He doesn't even sound properly offended, though. Possibly because he still can't stop smiling at Crowley.]

[eyesofaserpent]

I'll allow it this time only because you made it out of such an exquisite silk.

[He brings one of the angel's palm up to his mouth and kisses it.]

For that, I'm grateful.

[misplacedsword]

As though I would give you anything of inferior quality.

[He attempts to eye Crowley suspiciously, but fails rather spectacularly and ends up smiling affectionately. He brushes his thumb across Crowley's lower lip.]

Never thought I'd see the day you were grateful for tartan.

[eyesofaserpent]

[Snort. He kisses the thumb.]

I'm not grateful for the tartan, but the silk.

[misplacedsword]

[He smiles slightly at the kiss, slides his thumb across Crowley's skin to cup his cheek briefly, and then drops his hand]

Yes, of course, my dear.

[Aziraphale will happily continue to believe exactly what he wishes to believe.]

[eyesofaserpent]

[He knows that tone. That tone was reserved for when Aziraphale was just saying things to get Crowley to shut up. See that icon? Yeah, the one up there attached to this tag. That's his face.]

[misplacedsword]

[Oh, dear. There are few things Aziraphale is able to resist less than Crowley pouting.]

All right, all right. I will resign in my attempts to ever convince you that tartan is quite worth being grateful for.

[For now. Until Aziraphrale forgets himself the next time Crowley makes fun of his tartan.]

[eyesofaserpent]

[The pout disappears as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a cheerful smirk.]

Thank you.