#I never thought id do a bastille scene fic

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Desire

Well, I was going to write something totally different, but then this happened instead. My latest addition to @drawlight‘s advent calendar takes full advantage of the fact that I can’t write flirtatious dialogue to save my life.

(Note, I’ve now skipped 4 days. Not sure how I’m going to make them back up, but I do intend to try.)

19 - Wish (1,569 words)

“Do you ever wish for anything?” Aziraphale asked abruptly, just as he started in on his third order of crepes.

“Ah, how do you mean?” The question caught Crowley off-guard. Many things this evening had caught him off-guard. Finding Aziraphale locked up in the Bastille; the looks the angel had shot him, over and over, during his rescue attempt; and even now, the way Aziraphale’s habitual facade of innocence kept slipping, dropping just enough to reveal something not innocent in the least.

“Come now, Crowley. This is your primary employment. Temptations. Wishes.” He raised a bite of crepe to his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Desires.”

It suddenly occurred to Crowley – in a panic-induced firing of neurons – that Aziraphale might be attempting to flirt with him.

This was frightening in several ways.

First, it wasn’t how they did things. Their entire unspoken agreement – even deeper than the Arrangement – was that everything was treated in a strictly business way. Business mixed with pleasure, of course: a shared bottle of wine, a dinner of the latest luxury food, a trip to the theater where they could talk in private. But still, professional, distant, amicable at best.

Second, any changes in their attitudes towards each other was dangerous. Bound to be noticed. Bound to cause trouble. Exactly the kind of trouble Aziraphale was always warning him about.

Third, and most important, Aziraphale appeared to be very bad at flirting.

“I suppose,” Crowley started slowly, “I wish you would learn to be a little more careful and stop taking foolish risks.” He hoped the angel would catch his meaning.

“That’s not what I had in mind.” Aziraphale lowered the fork, and his other hand rose from his lap and came to rest on the table, barely an inch from Crowley’s. It wasn’t a very big table, but there was no chance that was a coincidence. “I mean, is there something that you…that you have longed for?”

“Like crepes. Not really, I don’t eat much.” He was babbling at this point. His fingers twitched away, but there wasn’t anywhere to move his hand, not without being obvious.

And, despite how unbelievably bad this situation was…he didn’t want to be obvious. Didn’t want Aziraphale to feel rejected. Didn’t want to pull away from the warmth of that hand.

“Apart from food, then.” Aziraphale finally took the bite, and just for a moment seemed to forget all about his dining companion as a look of sheer bliss ran across his face. Crowley’s stomach dropped away. Three orders of crepes and he still wasn’t prepared for that expression, for the unrestrained joy, for the sudden desire to reach out, to see if he could put that smile on Aziraphale’s face himself –

Oh, that bastard angel. He was doing it on purpose!

Crowley cleared his throat. “I don’t know. I wish I wasn’t in the middle of this Revolution. I wish Head Office would stop giving me credit for the absolute worst of humanity. I wish I could be sure they wouldn’t show up and check in on me at any moment.” How much more blatant could he be?

“I suppose,” Aziraphale smiled. “I suppose I also wish I could be assured a little privacy. I wonder sometimes, what I might do if there were no chance anyone would find out.” His finger stretched out, brushing against Crowley’s. The gesture was far too deliberate, and Aziraphale was looking straight at him. “What things might I wish to do then?”

Crowley couldn’t take it anymore. This was beyond embarrassing. This was a disaster to surpass anything he’d ever seen.

Worse, it was actually working. His hand burned to grab Aziraphale’s drag him into a corner, and find out just how stupid the two of them could be. The chances of anyone checking in on them in this city, in this creperie, at this exact moment were almost infinitesimally small. Crowley ready for it, Aziraphale had apparently forgotten every concept of caution, they were both intelligent beings of the world. Why shouldn’t they risk it?

Why shouldn’t they risk eternal torment at the hands of their respective sides for a few minutes of pleasure?

That was better than a bucket of cold water on Crowley’s brain. Aziraphale might believe his side was forgiving, that he was risking little more than a strongly-worded letter, but Crowley knew from first-hand experience how the Archangels treated their enemies. And he doubted an angel who consorted with a demon would be treated any better.

“Aziraphale,” he said, drawing his hands back, folding them in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“I…” He flushed, suddenly looking very uncertain. Very hurt. “I just meant… That is, I didn’t mean… I was just making conversation.”

“Do you think I don’t know a Temptation when I see one?” Aziraphale flinched at that, jerking his own hand back as if he’d been struck. “Especially one so… flagrant? It’s humiliating.”

“Oh. I. Oh.” He deflated, shrinking into himself, melting away before Crowley’s eyes. “I thought… I thought you wanted…”

“No, Aziraphale. This…this,” he waved his hand vaguely to indicate everything the angel had done and suggested, “isn’t what I want. It’s not my secret desire, not my wish, not some hidden fantasy I’ve had locked in my brain.” He knew he was laying it on too thick, but if there was a chance, even a chance someone had seen this… “I don’t know what you were hoping to get from me, or why you thought it would work, but it needs to stop. Now.”

Crowley had thought he knew every expression Aziraphale was capable of – from the bliss of trying a new food to the wretched misery of confessing he’d given away his sword. But nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the look of heartbreak he saw now.

“Well. I…” Oh, Satan, he wasn’t even trying to cover it up with a fake smile. “I should…”

Before Crowley could move, Aziraphale was on his feet, all but running out of the restaurant.

--

If there was one thing Aziraphale was good at, it was stopping himself from crying. He had centuries, millennia, an eternity of practice at keeping the tears at bay, no matter what he felt, no matter what tragedy he was forced to witness. After all, if it was all part of the Great, Ineffable Plan, why should he mourn a moment’s pain?

But this…this wasn’t part of the Plan. This was just his heart, torn out, tossed aside. But he didn’t need it. He didn’t need any of it. He was an –

“Angel!”

He walked faster.

“Ang – Aziraphale, stop!”

He would have run if he could, but it didn’t matter – he was no match for those long legs, and in a moment he felt Crowley’s hand on his arm.

“Leave me be.” He tried to shrug it off. “You’ve made your point.”

“I really don’t think I have,” Crowley growled, low and dangerous. He pulled Aziraphale back towards him, grabbing his lapels, shoving him back against the nearest wall, standing so close their noses nearly brushed. “You want to know what I wish for? What I want?”

“Crowley, stop, I was just –”

“Oh, I’ll tell you.” He leaned in even closer, until his hot breath burned against the shell of Aziraphale’s ear, as he hissed: “I want you.”

He couldn’t even respond, couldn’t make a sound around the lump in his throat.

“But I don’t want some bloody snog in a Paris alleyway. I want to spend eternity with you. My deepest desire is to hear your voice and your laugh every day. My fantasy is to wake up next to you, spend every minute at your side, and fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. And when I wish, I wish for us to stay safe, to keep going, until we can find a way to make that happen.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tried to whisper, but his breath was harsh. There were tears running down his face. “That’s…you know that’s impossible…”

“I don’t care. I am not going to give up, not ever. I will not trade that for a few minutes of pleasure. And I won’t risk you. Not for anything. So don’t be stupid.”

He couldn’t trust himself to speak. He reached out, put his hands on Crowley’s waist, pulled him closer, so that just for a second, he felt the full weight of his adversary, his rescuer, his friend pressed against him.

Then he shoved the demon away with all his strength. “Oh, I think we understand each other now,” Aziraphale said, trying to sound cold and authoritative, as an angel should. “I think I understand exactly what it is you want.”

Crowley smiled, and if it was supposed to look cruel or wicked, Aziraphale saw right through that to the sadness it masked. “So you see, your wiles were never going to work on me. Best stick to what you’re good at, Angel.”

“You’ll regret saying that, I think.” Aziraphale wiped the tears from his face. “I look forward to our next encounter.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

They held each other’s gaze for another moment, then walked away in opposite directions.

Aziaphale already regretted his actions today, the things his foolish desire had led him to do. But he pushed the memory aside, making room for a new, glorious vision that Crowley had planted in his heart.