Archive of Our Own ^beta

Crowley was very drunk. Aziraphale was not. They had gone out to a pub where the demon played a game of darts, despite Aziraphale's protests (“What if one hits you, my boy? Oh, I just couldn't ever forgive myself if you got hurt.”)

However Crowley had a stressful day; he had to work all day to help his angel with dusting his blasted books and he was constantly slipping in and out of snake form to help ward off customers for Aziraphale during his dusting; Aziraphale forgot to put up a sign or something, and Crowley enjoyed giving people a fright, however it got boring and tiring after a while.

So he needed a way to blow off some steam, so he played some darts, with the compromise that the angel would watch very carefully to make sure that he did not accidentally injure himself.

Crowley was doing fine until the third glass of wine; that's when he threw a dart towards Aziraphale by accident. The angel was very startled and miracled it away, instinctively.

So now they are walking to with Crowley's left arm wrapped around the back of Aziraphale's neck and stumbling - even more then usual - while walking. He was babbling on about how generously clever the invention of crutches were

“Y'u see, angel if-a go’illa s’ipped on-an bahnana it-would-go ‘“Whoosh!”’ Crowley waves his free hand, which is holding the keys to his car (which had a little angel wing clip on them), all around “ Now-if-a.. a.. what are those things that need to breathe??”

Aziraphale smirks/smiles, amusedly, and looks at Crowley, “I believe you're talking about h u m a n s, dear.” Aziraphale speaks "humans" slowly so Crowley's jumbled and drunken mind has more time to process what he is saying.

"An'ways, iffa..whoman gets '"whooshed"' by-a bahnana they-can-use-crutches-if-their..their.. Bones! Tha's'sit! Bones. So, if-bones-go "crack!" they 'ave cr'tches ta-nat go "'eh."' Crowley makes a sloppy sl*shing motion with his hand by his neck. The car keys drop when he does this.

He groans in irritation "Angel? Where-are-they?" Aziraphale crouches down and picks them up and puts them in his pocket in his waistcoat. "There you go, dear, now they won't drop anymore." Aziraphale kisses one of Crowley's cheeks. The demon melts at the touch and starts making drunken flustered noises.

When they get to the car Aziraphale opens the passenger door and slips Crowley inside and buckles him up. Crowley whines at the lack of his angel's touch. "Don't worry, Crowley, I'll just be in the d r i v e r ' s seat." Aziraphale then shuts the door - gently, as to not hurt Crowley's ears - and gets himself situated in the driver's seat. He tells the Bentley to drive them at a nice, slow pace. Immediately after Aziraphale holds one of Crowley's hands, Crowley visibly relaxes at this "You're too kind angel.." He slurs drunkenly tired. Aziraphale just smiles at him for a second and than looks at the road

A few minutes later they are back at the bookshop and when Aziraphale goes to open the door for Crowley he finds a messy, curled-up black mass on the seat. Aziraphale lightly tut-tuts so as to not wake up the snake; after all, if you mess with the snake, you get the fangs (not to mention a very grumpy Crowley) So he carefully picks up Crowley so he doesn't wake up and carries him into the bookshop.

After setting Cowley down on his sitting chair Aziraphale goes and brews some coffee to naturally wake up Crowley only to dump it once he sees that he has awoken, tongue out; aka smelling for said coffee, and sits up straight, craning his head as he smells.

Aziraphale chuckles softly and walks over to plant a kiss on Crowley's nose before going over to a bookshelf and picking a book (Pride and Prejudice) and walks back to find a shoeless Crowley curled up on the chair. He smiles at Crowley, "Hey, I know you're probably really comfortable right now, dear, however if you want me to read to you to help you fall back asleep, then you need to get up for a moment."

Crowley's mumbles some distasteful words as he slowly gets up. Aziraphale sighs while sitting down, one that says "It's really not that big of a deal, Crowley, but what else did I expect in response? A thank you?" and Crowley looks at Aziraphale ashamed. " 'm sorry.." He mutters apologetically.

Aziraphale's expression softens and he looks at Crowley. Aziraphale pats the space he's made in-between his legs, "Come on, you wily serpent, I know you want to cuddle, you're not fooling me." Aziraphale encourages with unfiltered affection.

Crowley slithers over and wraps himself around Aziraphale. After a few minutes Crowley is asleep. A few minutes later Aziraphale looks over and finds a tired, sleepy Crowley draped around him, he plants a kiss on the top of Crowley's head and turns back to the book. Except now he has one hand gently carding through his dear's hair.