#grumpy aziraphale

I hope the long wait wasn’t too long. I’ve now uploaded the whole fic onto a03 and put the new chapter there. I’ll post the intros here with links instead, and try to remember to update the masterlist properly. I have also been working on some illustrations but these have taken a backseat. 

Part 14

They had reached the end of the procession of decorated trees, and Aziraphale made the kind of sigh that could only be interpreted one way, the kind one makes before thanking a host and departing. Crowley, in his state of lovesick idiocy, had retreated back into Aziraphale’s robes and wriggled his way across his angel’s skin, only leaving the very tip of his snout visible outside of the heavy coat. Aziraphale, who must have noticed him winding his way across his upper back, had not commented, and was now looping around and past the church pillars. It was with a heavy heart that Crowley realised that their little adventure in the snow must be over, Aziraphale fully sated from the trees and the snowflakes.

He was falling into a rhythm of listening to Aziraphale’s breaths when he realised that the crunch of his boots in the fresh snow had slowed, and then ceased.

“Interesting…” came Aziraphale's voice quietly. Crowley pushed out a little further, peeking out of the collar to see. Aziraphale was standing on the path leading back towards the lamppost, and looking upwards towards a snow bank with a small rocky path scattered amongst it. The path was lit up by small floating lights which seemed to beckon at them.

“Oh, why does everything have to be so interesting?” whined the angel, looking back along the path they had come, and then upwards towards the lights again. Crowley’s entire head had emerged from his hiding spot now, and he twisted to look towards the path eagerly. Aziraphale sighed, a little critically. “It’s like it knows ,”

Crowley pulled back and looked up at his companion, angling his head a little in query. Aziraphale looked at him.

“Don’t you start now, too. I can’t have you both ganging up on me,”

Aziraphale looked away, then back at the path, and then back at Crowley, who continued to tilt his head in a manner he noticed seemed to get him what he wanted with the poor Keeper. Aziraphale’s eyebrows tilted in defeat and he sighed again, shaking his head a little.

“Oh, enough! There’s only so much sweetness an angel can take,” he said dramatically, turning towards the path and beginning to crunch his way with each step towards it. The snow bank raised up towards the path, and the snow proved a little deeper than it looked initially. Aziraphale had to lift his coat up to make his way through, and made a high-pitched noise of displeasure as snow tumbled over the top of his boots and down his legs.

“You’re a terrible influence on me, little thing,” he muttered once they had reached the bottom of what appeared to be rough stone steps under the swells of settled snow. The next few minutes were preoccupied with Aziraphale finding each buried step and checking his footing before committing. It was much steeper than it had looked from down near the church, and Aziraphale was puffing soon enough. The puffing was followed by some muttered cursing, and some creative names for Crowley who filed them away in delight.

“Oh, you foul Duke of limbs,” grumbled Aziraphale, stooping to check a ledge with his hands before stepping up, Crowley clinging to him and flicking his tongue in delight. “Or I suppose, Duke of coils, you wretched little fopling,”

Crowley, for all of his flaws, was enjoying himself thoroughly, as Aziraphale’s skin had grown much warmer with the effort it took to climb, and the angel looked dashing with a tinge of pink across his cheeks and neck as it contrasted very well with the scowl painted across his features. Aziraphale charmed and giddy with happiness was a treat, but Aziraphale cross was a pure indulgence.