Kdrama&More

Stopping in front of the closed door of his bedroom, you removed your hand from the doorknob and turned slowly, facing him with your eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Admit it,” he repeated with a shrug. “No matter how angry you get at me, it’s my bed you end up in at the end of the night.”

Pressing your finger to your chin, you tilted your head. “Hmm, you know what, you’re right. Maybe I should try Sam’s bed.”

Dean growled low in the back of his throat and shot off the end of his bed. He was in front of you in a fraction of a second, his nose mere millimeters away from yours. “Don’t.”

A wolfish smile spread across your lips. “Make me.”

Dean grinned and flipped you around, pushing you forward so your chest was flush with the door. His teeth grazed your earlobe and you shivered. “I would never have to make you,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”

“Still not convinced,” you sassed, sticking your ass backward and wiggling slowly against his almost completely hard cock straining against his jeans.

Dean hummed and stepped closer, pinning you completely against the door. His left hand came up and grabbed both your wrists, holding them still above your hand. His right hand wiggled between your body and the door, slowly trailing over your breasts and down your stomach.

“Dean,” you moaned quietly, pleading for him to continue further down where you needed him most.

He exhaled a quiet laugh against your ear, toying with the button on your jeans. “Admit it.”

Finally, your desire overcame your need to resist him and you whined. “I need you, Dean, please. I can’t live without you.”

Dean’s tongue snaked out and licked your pulse point. “Good girl.”

***

Sure, every other human they’ve known has barely managed to cling on for a full century, but maybe some humans just… do live longer than others?

Same with other things. Crowley gets too comfortable and unthinkingly pulls off his glasses. Aziraphale is definitely puzzled, but wonders if it’s just a really uncommon medical condition he hasn’t seen before, or something. (His friend is clearly embarassed about it, so Aziraphale decides not to bring it up and pretend it never happened. Crowley, meanwhile, can’t believe he got away with that.)

Aziraphale forces Crowley to sit through his magic act. Crowley grudgingly admits that it’s quite good for a human, but he’s not sure what’s up with these doves. He could have sworn that one had its neck broken (and was about to miracle it better before Aziraphale noticed— he will insist on stuffing them up his sleeves!) but then it just seemed to straighten itself out and fly away. Still, Aziraphale didn’t seem to think it was weird. Maybe doves just do that sometimes. Crowley’s not an ornithologist.

The Bentley won’t cooperate when Aziraphale is in it, and Crowley can’t figure out why. He thinks it’s because it’s being affected by his own nerves, and doesn’t know that Aziraphale was horrified at the dangerous way his mortal and therefore very fragile human friend was driving, and has been miracling the car so that it always keeps the speed limit.

He finally gets Crowley out of there by just inviting him to lunch. Crowley sort of half-laughs and says ‘you know Angel, if you want to go on a date with me, you can just ask.” 

And Aziraphale freezes dear-in-the-headlights because Angel? Oh no, he’s been caught! He babbles incoherently for a few seconds like ‘ahahah angel? why would you call me that? That’s so weird! Clearly I am a normal human just like you!!’

Crowley, who just had a slip of the tongue and has just accidentally out-loud referred to his beloved human friend by the pet-name he’s been using in the privacy of his own brain is panicking now because oh no, Aziraphale doesn’t like it, is Crowley making him uncomfortable? Does Aziraphale not like him the way Crowley thought he might like him? What if he’s Ruined Everything and Aziraphale Doesn’t Want To See Him Anymore *internal distressed Snek noises*

So he babbles ‘oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I won’t do it again. It’s just you’re so sweet and kind and genuinely thoughtful and you care about doing the right thing even if it’s against the rules, even though you hate breaking rules and you’re so sincere and and and I just think you’re like an angel really ought to be. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, really!’

And there’s a pause.

And then Aziraphale says shyly ‘well, I was just surprised. I don’t mind if you call me that again. It’s okay if it’s you saying it.” And he smiles hopefully.

‘Ngk’ says Crowley, master of demonic temptation, Hell’s operative on Earth. 

Aziraphale takes him by the arm and pulls Crowley towards the doors, He does a last quick scan of the room, but there’s no sign of demonic goings on anywhere. Maybe the adversary has been scared off?

‘So’ he says to Crowley, who has just got his breathing back under control, ‘how about crepes?’.

‘Crepes, yeah, yeah, sounds good,’ says Crowley, figuring what the Heaven he can postpone a few temptations until later. Maybe he can tell Down Stairs that his heavenly adversary finally showed up. (If there even is one. Six thousand years and frankly the closest Crowley’s ever seen to an angel on earth is his sweet human.)

There’s another pause as they exit the building and then Aziraphale says hesitantly ‘my dear, did you mean it?’

‘Mean what, angel?’ replies Crowley, basking in the permission so recently given.

‘About asking you on a date. I . .  I would quite like to take you out, my dear, if you’re amenable?’