ext_1675 (
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2010-08-26 07:04 pm
Entry tags:
Debauchery by tea_and_snark (R)
Fandom: GOOD OMENS
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 2767 words
Author on LJ:
tea_and_snark
Author Website: wrote when?
Why this must be read: One of the easiest ways to get our favourite angel and demon together is to use their love of alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol.
After the Apocalypse-that-Wasn't, Crowley doesn't like the loneliness he sees in Aziraphale, and he wants to fix the situation. So he does the only thing he knows how: decides to get the angel drunk and offer him comfort. There's a sadness and a sweetness to this story as you realize just how long these two have known each other. Their world has shifted, and they're trying to make sense of that in order to go on.
(And if you're worried for Aziraphale's virtue, don't be: as always, he's harder to fool than Crowley believes.)
Aziraphale would never ask Crowley over, but he could refuse to go to Crowley and wait should the demon choose to come to him.
And, as it was painfully obvious in those old, old, innocent eyes, Aziraphale had never once expected Crowley to come when he did, though he may have hoped.
Crowley never expected it either.
Then again, being devious was part and parcel of being a demon. It made sense that he could trick himself, often as not. Trick himself into not noticing he was driving toward Soho. Trick himself into not noticing the aching need, pitted deep in his stomach, devouring him from the inside out. A need for company, and contact.
Crowley hadn’t blinked in about fifteen minutes. He had forgotten to.
He decided, fuzzily, that he would swim one day in Aziraphale’s blue eyes. Disgustingly pure, they were. He would tinge them darker.
That was when he came up with the plan.
There was always a point when either one of them would become so drunk that he forgot to reverse the condition. Crowley would make sure that, next time, Aziraphale reached that point first. It shouldn’t be too difficult. The idea threaded and wended and trickled through his brain until he was sure it would still be firmly lodged there when he was sober.
“’S a good idea. ‘S gonna be fine,” he muttered.
“Goo’ boy, tha’s the sp’rit,” slurred Aziraphale, encouragingly, completely oblivious.
Crowley fell out of his chair. Perhaps it was a bit late to implement the plan tonight.
Read the story: Debauchery
Don't forget to feedback the author - it doesn't matter how old or new the story is. Authors love to hear from you!
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 2767 words
Author on LJ:
Author Website: wrote when?
Why this must be read: One of the easiest ways to get our favourite angel and demon together is to use their love of alcohol. Copious amounts of alcohol.
After the Apocalypse-that-Wasn't, Crowley doesn't like the loneliness he sees in Aziraphale, and he wants to fix the situation. So he does the only thing he knows how: decides to get the angel drunk and offer him comfort. There's a sadness and a sweetness to this story as you realize just how long these two have known each other. Their world has shifted, and they're trying to make sense of that in order to go on.
(And if you're worried for Aziraphale's virtue, don't be: as always, he's harder to fool than Crowley believes.)
Aziraphale would never ask Crowley over, but he could refuse to go to Crowley and wait should the demon choose to come to him.
And, as it was painfully obvious in those old, old, innocent eyes, Aziraphale had never once expected Crowley to come when he did, though he may have hoped.
Crowley never expected it either.
Then again, being devious was part and parcel of being a demon. It made sense that he could trick himself, often as not. Trick himself into not noticing he was driving toward Soho. Trick himself into not noticing the aching need, pitted deep in his stomach, devouring him from the inside out. A need for company, and contact.
Crowley hadn’t blinked in about fifteen minutes. He had forgotten to.
He decided, fuzzily, that he would swim one day in Aziraphale’s blue eyes. Disgustingly pure, they were. He would tinge them darker.
That was when he came up with the plan.
There was always a point when either one of them would become so drunk that he forgot to reverse the condition. Crowley would make sure that, next time, Aziraphale reached that point first. It shouldn’t be too difficult. The idea threaded and wended and trickled through his brain until he was sure it would still be firmly lodged there when he was sober.
“’S a good idea. ‘S gonna be fine,” he muttered.
“Goo’ boy, tha’s the sp’rit,” slurred Aziraphale, encouragingly, completely oblivious.
Crowley fell out of his chair. Perhaps it was a bit late to implement the plan tonight.
Read the story: Debauchery
Don't forget to feedback the author - it doesn't matter how old or new the story is. Authors love to hear from you!
