Heaven isn't as wonderful ||Good Omens FanFiction||

9

The bed creaked as Crowley turned to lie on his back. Adrenaline pumped through his body, and he leaned his head back against pillows with obsolete patterns.

"Damn it, Aziraphale." The demon sighed as he heard footsteps down the hall, followed by the opening of his door. Crowley turned over, pretending to be asleep. Aziraphale stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. "I know you aren't actually sleeping." He huffed. Crowley looked at his phone and growled at being caught in a lie.

"You're so clever, ArChAnGeL." Aziraphale looked over with unsmiling eyes, all hints of his usual sweetness soured. "Look at me and speak to me like an adult Crowley." It was more of a demand than a question, and Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bed, nervous to be so direct with the demon. Crowley turned to him and sat cross-legged, really looking at the angel. This weakened the angel's confidence. He mumbled, clearing his throat. "Right. Uhm, right, so you said you were coming to see me, so what's so bad that I came instead?" Crowley bit his lip and clenched his jaw, putting his sunglasses back on. "Look, angel, I wanted to have the last laugh and mess with you a little. I didn't expect you to be here. Today. Now. Ever again." His voice cracked at the end, and he looked away, masking the vulnerability with anger.

"You're fucking selfish." The angel was no longer teary-eyed or apologetic. "Mhm," he agreed, and Crowley shrugged. "You make me so desperate, and I had that," said the serpentine. Aziraphale simply froze in response. Hands gripping the sheets, eyes trained on Crowley's glasses, barely breathing. "I'm sorry I said I forgive you instead of I love you the evening I departed." Crowley instantly took off his glasses and pulled the angel closer. "Why did you kiss me downstairs?" Crowley's breath was minty fresh. The angel noticed he was now chewing gum, and his jaw moved in short, tight intervals. He found it oddly attractive, or maybe it was just how close they were now. The angel blushed, raking his eyes at every detail he could catch. Crowley stared at the angel, obviously unfocused. Crowley lifted his chin to look at him. "Answer me." He purred deeply. Aziraphale answered with a question that only made the demon more impatient: "Why'd you kiss me when I left?" Crowley drawled "You know how irritating that is?" The angel slid a hand onto his chest and gave a soft chuckle. Crowley didn't blink; the only movement he could make was chew his gum. "Can we just enjoy the time we have together?" The angelic voice smiled hungrily, and it drove the demon to shambles.

 The angel's hands snaked around his neck, and he licked his lips nervously. "Can we just..." Aziraphale placed a gentle kiss on Crowley's lips, and Crowley instantly fell onto his back, pulling the angel onto his lap. "I'll take that as a yes." He breathed, and then Bailey walked in sporting a new pink hair color. "Woah" Crowley looked over, and his jaw was on the floor. "Crowley, sir..." Aziraphale jumped to the other side of the bed while Crowley straightened himself out. (Quite a feat for the second gayest man on the Soho strip, first being Mr. Phale.)

"Bailey??" The demon walked out of the room with haste. When Crowley was downstairs, he checked his watch. "Sorry to cock block." Giggled the girl, and Crowley gave a look as if not to mention this ever again, knowing full well Bailey would be talking his ear off about it later. Kelly rose from the couch and blinked at the words exchanged. Without a word, she ran upstairs to get the inside gossip. Muriel provided Crowley with a week's worth of groceries, a smile, and a hug, followed by a cheek kiss and a farewell. "I've made up some re-heatable suppers." Crowley kissed her cheek in return. "You are such a light in my life." Muriel hugged Bailey as well. "Pink? Mm! How lovely!!" Crowley rolled his eyes jokingly and flicked at the stray hairs to annoy her as they walked to Starbucks rather than their usual floral surroundings.

Bailey's satchel displayed an array of pins, and her doc martens were scuffed with grass stains and mud. She also still wore her school uniform. Crowley opened the door for her, and she sarcastically gave him a bow, and the demon took this as a chance to push her. She stumbled back and laughed, getting in line. "So," Crowley scrolled on his phone and snapped his fingers, ignoring his little companion. "Who was that?" Crowley ordered "Grande Frap? Extra whipped cream, two pumps of caramel, and also two pumps of espresso, with oat milk." The girl nodded and was surprised that Crowley remembered her order. "Can I get a cake pop?" Crowley nodded and ordered that too, along with a black coffee for himself. When picking up his order, the barista winked at him, signaling to call him later. Crowley smirked and saw a number scribbled on the cup. Bailey frowned. "So that guy was just a casual hookup?" Crowley laughed. "The barista?" Bailey shook her head. "No! Blondie from this morning." Crowley shrugged.

"Show me your test." A paper slid across the smooth surface, and Crowley licked his finger, turning the page. "C minus? Really?" Bailey took her turn to shrug. "You could have tried a little harder. I'm disappointed." The girl cringed. "Sorry, Dad." She laughed, and Crowley stiffened. "Don't call me that." Bailey laughed "It was a joke, chill, so what are we doing today? Math? Bookkeeper across the street?" Crowley put his head on the table in defeat.

"I can't do this today... I need a smoke." Bailey cheered, shoving her entire cake into her mouth, leaving with her all things before the demon went back and changed his mind. Crowley eventually made his way to the park and fished his box of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a deep drag while watching secret agents try to keep cover while a family of ducks waddled over their tracks.

"This week is going to be a bloody nightmare." He groaned hoarsely and plopped onto the field, petting a lone duckling hungry for attention rather than bread or frozen peas. "You are the cutest fucking thing." He laughed, blowing smoke the opposite way from the animal, as if not to pollute its delicate lungs. "Shits about to get real, my friend." He repeated that over and over until his cigarette was gone completely and the duck had lost interest in a one-sided conversation that was also immensely repetitive.