TFLN overflow.

[questionablewit]

Feel free to continue (or begin) any TFLN threads here. Because captcha is annoying.

Comments

[confoundthemighty]

Mmf--

[Before he can protest, he's being very thoroughly kissed. And Crowley's not wrong, this is an excellent hobby--and one they've both gotten quite good at through the amount of practice they've had over the past few weeks.

It feels like hours before they break apart again, and who knows, maybe it is. Aziraphale can never seem to keep track of time when they're this close. (He wouldn't be surprised if one day they climb out of bed to find they've spent an entire week just kissing.) But he's beaming, flushed pink with the simple pleasure of touching, his eyes a little hazy with love.]

Come to think of it, [he murmurs, one hand stirring through Crowley's hair in little petting motions,] we could always learn something together. Piano, maybe.

[duckshaveears]

[It's a good hobby, and one where they're certainly spending time mastering the skill and artistry required to make something memorable. And it brings them both a good deal of entertainment, which is the point of any hobby. Crowley will swear that it counts.

Still...more than one hobby probably isn't a bad idea either. Just to keep them from getting complaisant.]

Huh. Suppose we could try that. Start with Chopsticks and build our way up to Tchaikovsky. Hadn't thought of music, I was more--

[He stops abruptly, suddenly flushing in a way that doesn't seem to have anything to do with their nakedly entwined state, for all that he immediately busies himself with another kiss.]

[confoundthemighty]

[Aziraphale notices that flush, that sudden embarrassment, and even an enthusiastic kiss can’t chase it out of his mind. As soon as there’s an opportune moment he pulls back, hand still tangled in Crowley’s hair.]

More what? Did you have something in mind, my dearest?

[It’s a bit of a sneaky bastard move, trying to tease the information out of him with sweet words and sweeter looks, but neither of them are above that sort of thing at this point. And he is terribly curious.]

[duckshaveears]

[It's definitely a sneaky bastard move, especially since Aziraphale pulls it after allowing just enough kissing time for Crowley to think he's gotten away with his attempt at a distraction. Combining the question with hair teasing makes it a downright low blow.]

Nah, not really. Nothing important. Just an idea I was toying with.

[Oh look, neck. He can kiss that. Graze teeth along it, even. Bury his face in it so that his embarassment isn't so obvious. Crowley loves the greater levels of intimacy he and Aziraphale have these days, the way no subjects seem to be taboo anymore, but sometimes it's still hard to let himself be seen too nakedly. Not in the physical sense, that he has no problem with at all, but in the sense of letting himself be vulnerable. Even for Aziraphale, millennia of Hell-driven paranoia aren't lightly set aside. He's working on it. Mostly. Sort of.

He is working on it, so he takes a breath, places another careful kiss just under Aziraphale's ear, and eventually murmurs quietly.]

Painting. Maybe. Just to try my hand at it a bit.

as an amateur painter, DO THE THING, CROWLEY :D

[confoundthemighty]

[He's distracted from wondering what on earth must be so embarrassing about whatever Crowley has in mind by the gentle scrape of teeth along his neck--talk about a low blow. But just as he's starting to tame his breath back into a regular pattern, there's a soft kiss behind his ear, and then a very quiet admission.

It feels like a secret, as close to shy as Crowley has ever been with him, and a rush of tenderness sweeps warm tingling up through his chest.]

I think that's a wonderful idea.

[His voice is gently encouraging, entirely without any sort of laughter or shock that a demon might suggest such a thing. This has some importance attached to it, and just as Crowley's made him feel safe with regard to the things that really matter in his own life, Aziraphale wants to return the favor. Not out of any angelic principles, really--just because he wants the person who's made him happiest to be as happy as he can.]

I knew that would be Bob Ross. I didn't even have to click, I knew.

[duckshaveears]

[Crowley, having exposed himself this much already, may as well go further. He sighs and shifts his body down a little so he can rest his head on Aziraphale's chest. He catches one of the angel's hands, entangles their fingers and brings them to his mouth for a quick kiss.]

Yeah, well. Tried my hand at it a bit, once. Long ago. Leo gave me a few lessons when I knew him, taught me some of the tricks.

[Leo meaning Leonardo Da Vinci, of course. If Crowley could have granted immortality to one human being, out of all those he'd ever met, that's who it would've been. That brilliant, elastic mind, foreseeing and engineering marvels far ahead of his time, seeing all the art and science of the world and never tiring of questioning it, understanding it, loving it. If Crowley ever loved any human, it was him.

The Renassaince. That had been a good century, even without having been an antidote to the Hell on Earth that'd been the 14th.

Crowley squirms, trying to get comfortable, and looks at their joined hands.]

Spent a lot of time learning about art, back then. Good times. Didn't really have the chance to keep it up afterwards, but...yeah. Was thinking about that, a bit.

Every day's a good day when you paint! :D

[confoundthemighty]

[Aziraphale shifts a bit under him, trying to position himself as the optimal pillow, though his hand stays in Crowley's hair. From the way he's pretending it's not a big deal, it's definitely important to him--Aziraphale has known him too long not to know his tells.

He squeezes Crowley's fingers a little.]

You have the chance now, [he says softly, punctuating the words with a kiss brushed against Crowley's forehead, just below the hairline.] If you enjoyed it, you should pick it up again. See what you can make.

[It's at this point he realizes something wonderful: in pursuit of these things they've spent centuries wondering about but have been too busy to indulge in themselves, they can learn new things about each other. Aziraphale has no idea what sort of painter Crowley will be--he's barely begun to learn what kind of writer he is himself--and if they do try piano, he has no idea what sort of musicians they'll be, separately or together. It's all gloriously unknown, and nothing as urgent as the end of the world is riding on it.]

Long time since I did any and now I suddenly miss it! Also I have Art Forger Crowley headcanon now;)

[duckshaveears]

Yeah? That mean you'll model for me, when I get to that point?

[Crowley looks up, suddenly grinning and resting his (pointy, and probably uncomfortable) chin on Aziraphale's chest.]

Boring work, being a model, but you said you wanted to do things together. Could paint you reading, if you like. Be nice to do one myself instead of having to track down things other people've done.

[Hobbies Crowley's never admitted to having: purchasing art of Aziraphale. You can't have a literal angel walking around the world, however incognito, without his inspiring a number of artists and sculptors, and Crowley had become adept at spotting those who'd shared his fascination.]

...omg. I love it. <3

[confoundthemighty]

[It is a bit uncomfortable, but it's one of the happier discomforts Aziraphale's ever endured, after having Crowley actually fall asleep on him (which has happened several times and left him in no position to grab a book). But the grin is deeply encouraging, and he beams right back.]

Well, if I was reading, I wouldn't be too bored--

[Then the last part of what Crowley said registers, and he blinks, trying to process it.]

Hang on, one moment--what other people? I've never sat for a painting before.

It's a crime that encourages larceny and greed and fraud while not reeeeeally doing harm! Perfect

[duckshaveears]

[Crowley's more jealous side is unexpectedly pleased to hear his angel never actually acted as a model. (Which is utter hypocrisy as Crowley has, and not just for Da Vinci, but hey, demon). But Aziraphale's astonishment earns a laugh.]

You didn't know? You never noticed? Ohhhhh, angel...

[There's a kiss for that, though one interrupted by mirth.]

Maybe not formally but believe me, artists have definitely noticed you over the years.

And later everyone gets to laugh at the dupes who fell for it! Perfect mischief.

[confoundthemighty]

[He's rather startled at the idea--Aziraphale has never thought of himself as being anything like attractive, not until the recent flashes of it that have been brought on by living with someone who loves him. Certainly he takes pride in the way he dresses, but... but that's not to any purpose other than because he likes a certain aesthetic.

He's not sure why the thought makes his ears hot.]

Not that many, surely. I mean--I know it's not bad as corporeal forms go, but nothing here is really museum-worthy--

[His eyes grow wider as Crowley's grin does.]

Crowley, am I in museums?!

Exactly! AND he gets to feel superior about his own art knowledge. Total Crowley win.

[duckshaveears]

I don't believe this. This is fantastic. You really had no idea.

[If they'd had this conversation a few months ago, before Crowley'd been able to openly admit just how attractive Aziraphale is, it would've been much, much more frustrating. As it is, this is the most hilarious thing Crowley's ever heard. He kisses Aziraphale again, amused as hell.]

Yes, you oblivious, gorgeous, angelic bastard. You were literally turning heads back in Greece and Rome, and then again in Italy during the Renassaince, and at varying other times and places. Giambologna would've worshipped you if he could've gotten you to sit for him. I can name you at least a dozen who were inspired enough just by a few glimpses to try and capture it.

[confoundthemighty]

[The heat has spread down from his ears to his cheeks now. Aziraphale squirms, just a little, as the new knowledge jangles its way into his brain.]

Well--I--suppose it's a good thing I didn't encourage idolatry, then...

[He's... honestly not sure how to react to the idea that humans have found him beautiful, that he of all people has made his way into some of their art. It's one thing to know the love of your life likes the way you look, and entirely another to think about your face being considered fine art.]

[duckshaveears]

'Course you didn't. You couldn't, you're an angel. A proper one.

[Aziraphale's obvious discomfort sinks in past Crowley's amusement, however. He rolls off Aziraphale, stretches alongside him, lifting himself up on one elbow.]

That's why, you know. Wasn't just your pretty face. Well, maybe for some, but for others...

[Crowley reaches out and brushes a few errant curls back from Aziraphale's forehead as he tries to find words.]

You're good, Aziraphale. You radiate it, kindness and love for all mankind and all that, right out there in the open for all to see. Of course they wanted to try and capture just a little bit of it.

[confoundthemighty]

[He tilts his head into that warm touch, almost reflexively, eyelids fluttering at the simple joy of affection. His own hand strokes through Crowley’s hair again, and at that last statement he gives Crowley a searching look, something vulnerable in him suddenly jarred loose.]

I can’t help it. I do love them—humans, I mean. I don’t know if any of the others do, but—for all their flaws, for all the terrible things they’ve done... so many of them just want to do the right thing, and to make something beautiful.

[He’d never once heard any of the other angels talk admiringly about a human, except maybe for Christ, who doesn’t entirely count. Never once seen one of them willing to sit down to a meal or stroll through a museum just for the fun of it. And, he still thinks, there might yet be one soul in the Heavenly Host who understands what he sees in them.

But he hasn’t yet met that soul, and he has yet to meet someone who understands as thoroughly as Crowley.]

[duckshaveears]

You know humans, Aziraphale. Most of the rest don't ever interact with them. People are just numbers to count. A way of keeping score.

[It's not the first time he's said it. Probably won't be the last. The irony is that demons are far more familiar with humans than their angelic counterparts. Have to be, the better to tempt them into sin. Though even demons don't like humans so much as find them entertaining. Except Crowley, who does both.]

Maybe we should lure some of your ex-coworkers down to get their portraits painted, hmm? Get 'em in the vainglory.

[confoundthemighty]

[At Crowley's first statement, he sighs silently--it's been a sinking suspicion in the back of his own mind for ages, and it's a part of why it took him so long to admit that it wasn't something he could change. For so long he'd hoped, wondered, prayed in his heart that if he could just get any of the other angels to try experiencing the world as he did, to listen to human song or try human food or in any way give themselves over to appreciating any of the innumerable incredible things about humanity, that they would understand. But it had never worked.

It had been very lonely, trying to talk to anyone at the head office.

And now he gets to spend eternity with someone who actually understands.

At the thing Crowley says next, though, he feels an indignant laugh begin to bubble up. His expression is fondly reproachful, and perhaps a touch surprised.]

Don't you dare, Crowley. You know how big Gabriel's head is already!

[duckshaveears]

[That expression is a definite improvement, and Crowley grins.]

Not nearly as big as it'll be after a few good caricaturists have a go at sketching him. We'll need some extra large paper for that.

[confoundthemighty]

God, no. And you know if he had his way he'd have himself drawn in some hideously expensive suit that makes him look like what he does for a living is embezzlement.

[Aziraphale can just picture it--one of those outfits that's too fashionable and too clean-cut for trust to adhere to, a disturbingly immaculate haircut. But Crowley's words do make him imagine it as a caricature, the sort of thing where he looks as much of a prick as he acts, and he can't help laughing.]

[duckshaveears]

He already looks like that, the colossal wanker.

[Gabriel is now permanently numero uno on Crowley's shit list, ahead of everyone else who's ever existed, including Hastur and Torquemada. But the mental image of a caricatured Gabriel has made Aziraphale laugh, so it's been worth mentioning him. Crowley shifts his position, leans a little further up, grinning down.]

We could go traveling for a while. Find museums where I know for a fact that there's some piece of art you inadvertantly inspired and make you guess which one it is.

[confoundthemighty]

[Now there's a thought. Traveling together, instead of just running into one another in some part of the world. And, even better, coming home together afterwards. He absolutely beams up at Crowley, the entire room brightening along with him.]

You know, I think I'd like that. If we made a sort of game of it, maybe. Where would you take me first?

[duckshaveears]

Rome.

[It's said with such quickness and certainty that it catches Crowley by surprise too; he hadn't actually thought about it, but the answer was there, waiting for him. He looks thoughtful for a second, then shrugs, smiles a little.]

First place you ever invited me for a meal. Feels like...a lot of things started there, yeah? I'd like to go back. With you.