Mmm, fic.
Title: Practially Perfect
Summary: Crowley's new car has its own problems.
Fandom: Good Omens
Word Count: double drabble
Rating/Warnings: PG, fluffy slash
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale
A/N: Set post-book. I don't even like this pairing, and I've never written in this fandom, but I got a plot bunny. And what do plot bunnies do when we don't write them? They run away, never to return, taking all one's inspiration. So I shall listen to the plot bunnies. If you couldn't tell, the tape is Abbey Road by the Beatles.
“You got a new car?” Aziraphale said as he closed the door behind him.
Crowley sighed. “A practically perfect copy, and you notice it straightaway.”
“What do you mean, practically?” Aziraphale asked, but Crowley, pulling away from the curb, didn’t answer. He rolled his eyes. “Oh well. Let’s have some music then.”
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a tape at random. The label announced that it was Beethoven’s Ninth, so Aziraphale pressed it into the stereo.
“…attracts me like no other lover,” the stereo responded.
“Practically perfect,” Crowley said, “but it has its own problems.” He uncomfortably hit the skip button.
“I want you so bad,” the stereo pronounced.
“Also, the skip button is broken,” Crowley said apologetically, hitting it again.
“One sweet dream came true today,” the stereo taunted.
Aziraphale blushed. “Opinionated little bugger, isn’t it?” He leaned over and mashed the button.
“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make,” the stereo sang proudly.
“Oh, bugger it all,” Crowley said. He leaned over and kissed the surprised angel on the mouth.
“Er,” Aziraphale managed after the kiss was broken. He blinked and looked around. “Who’s driving?”
“Oh. Right.”
Summary: Crowley's new car has its own problems.
Fandom: Good Omens
Word Count: double drabble
Rating/Warnings: PG, fluffy slash
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale
A/N: Set post-book. I don't even like this pairing, and I've never written in this fandom, but I got a plot bunny. And what do plot bunnies do when we don't write them? They run away, never to return, taking all one's inspiration. So I shall listen to the plot bunnies. If you couldn't tell, the tape is Abbey Road by the Beatles.
“You got a new car?” Aziraphale said as he closed the door behind him.
Crowley sighed. “A practically perfect copy, and you notice it straightaway.”
“What do you mean, practically?” Aziraphale asked, but Crowley, pulling away from the curb, didn’t answer. He rolled his eyes. “Oh well. Let’s have some music then.”
He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a tape at random. The label announced that it was Beethoven’s Ninth, so Aziraphale pressed it into the stereo.
“…attracts me like no other lover,” the stereo responded.
“Practically perfect,” Crowley said, “but it has its own problems.” He uncomfortably hit the skip button.
“I want you so bad,” the stereo pronounced.
“Also, the skip button is broken,” Crowley said apologetically, hitting it again.
“One sweet dream came true today,” the stereo taunted.
Aziraphale blushed. “Opinionated little bugger, isn’t it?” He leaned over and mashed the button.
“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make,” the stereo sang proudly.
“Oh, bugger it all,” Crowley said. He leaned over and kissed the surprised angel on the mouth.
“Er,” Aziraphale managed after the kiss was broken. He blinked and looked around. “Who’s driving?”
“Oh. Right.”