#they're gonna go on a planetarium date:) and yearn:)

[i-love-your-light]

posting a snippet of a wip to maybe motivate me into finishing it?? we'll see!!

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“Would you… erm, Crowley, I was just wondering,”  Aziraphale was trying to hide his nerves as he and Crowley donned their jackets in the restaurant’s coat room after yet another lunch. “If you didn’t have any other plans for the afternoon, might you like to come see a show with me?”

Crowley was draping his black coat over his lanky frame with a casual ease.  “What kind of a show?”

“Well,”  Aziraphale fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves.  “I was actually hoping it could be a surprise.” 

Crowley’s eyebrows raised, amused.  “You’re not one for keeping secrets, angel.”

“I think you’ll like it!  I’d just… rather not say.”

“Come on, tell me.” Crowley grinned, all teeth, like the cat that got the canary, and took a few steps closer to Aziraphale.  The coatroom suddenly felt quite warm.  “What’s this show?”

The floor was very interesting to Aziraphale at that moment.  Black and white tiles in a geometric pattern, the edges between them blurring the longer he looked down at them.  “Do you trust me?” he said quietly.

Crowley said nothing for a moment, then, “Yeah.”

The angel finally met Crowley’s eyes, or did as best as he could with those familiar sunglasses blocking them.  The grin had faded but there was still warmth there, softness.  Aziraphale imagined that if he brought his hand up to Crowley’s cheek, it would feel warm and soft under his palm, despite the angularity of his features and the sometimes frosty act he put on.

“I trust you,” Crowley said.

Trust, that dangerous, delicious thing, that always hung between them like a magnet, that always hung above them like a blade.  There were other ways one could define what they had. Those ways, however, had to go unspoken.  Trust was an easier one syllable word.  

“Then let’s be on our way,” Aziraphale said brightly, giving Crowley’s arm a quick squeeze before turning heel for the door, trying not to flex his hand at even that momentary flash of contact.