blessedarethebookmakers: (wait...)
Aziraphale ([personal profile] blessedarethebookmakers) wrote in [community profile] smk_ooc 2019-06-25 04:37 pm (UTC)

"Right."

He still didn't get the fingers joke. The words swirled in his head-- his feathers do ruffle a bit at 'lost cause' and longs to say something to argue against that, but Crowley is a demon after all and lost cause is part of the overall...package.

So he should definitely not be dating him.

On the other hand, if they were to work together and in close proximity to one another for an unknown amount of time, they could no longer be what they were and had to, instead, become something new.

Only not that new.

The cast member clears his throat expressively and Aziraphale clicks his tongue. Weapons. Honestly. How gauche and he does not have time for this.

He snaps his fingers and a book comes rocketing from somewhere in the back,miraculously missing the cast member's head by mere centimeters. He catches it neatly, tucking it against his side.

"Thank you. We might be back later." Because Crowley might need something or might not. "Come along."

He takes Crowley by the wrist and hurries him from the shop, the thoughts in his head coalescing into a shining idea that he doesn't want to lose nor be interrupted in expressing it.

Once safely outside, he comes to stand in front of the demon, his wings flared.

"Listen. We are not-- this cannot be a date date. We are not dating. Not in any capacity." He took a breath and continued. "We are merely here to work together in official capacity for our respective sides-- for companionship and to provide inspiration for one another when needed-- for the sake of the world at large and certainly not for our own personal pleasure. Well, not for mine." He draws himself up. "I know you demons care less about that sort of thing."

Which is enviable in a way.

Or would be, were he not an angel and therefore above that sort of thing.

"Agreed?" He absently strokes a thumb over Crowley's wrist which he realizes he hasn't let go of and-- well, it's too late now, isn't it?

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