IN ANOTHER PART OF THE SHIP

IN ANOTHER PART OF THE SHIP

Meanwhile our universe Spock...

Hi, here it comes! Sorry @rozugold​ for the delay, I was fighting with a serious art-block. Also thanks to my beautiful girlfriend @mllekurtz​ for cheering me on and checking my English (I love you).

Aziraphale’s right shoulder was a knot of pain and tired muscles, still the Principality didn’t dare to move. An heavy weight in the form of Crowley’s head was firmly settled there and Aziraphale would rather face a day with a sore back than disturb the other’s sleep or worse: make Crowley move away. Something unusual had blossomed in Aziraphale’s heart. It wasn’t a particularly nice feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant either. Maybe it was love. Love was familiar to Aziraphale, he could feel it in the air like a long-known perfume, he could SEE IT. Angels were actually made of love! But what did it mean exactly? What was it like FEELING it? Sure, Aziraphale loved God and all Her creatures, but that was a distant kind of love, more like an extension of himself than… whatever he felt for Crowley. The demon stirred, his long eyebrows knotted in a fleeting impression of pain. Aziraphale reached for the other’s hand and started to draw soothing circles on it, until Crowley relaxed and burrowed his nose more deeply in Aziraphale’s shoulder. The angel sighed.

“Dear, are you awake?”

A grunt. Crowley was like water, utterly unable to be truly still. “No.”

Aziraphale fought back a smile.

“A pity, I was thinking of getting more comfortable and try that sleep of yours for once.”

Crowley immediately perked up, dislodging himself from the uncomfortable position, golden eyes searching for Aziraphale’s ones. Aziraphale forced himself to breathe. It was hard, maybe one of the hardest thing he’d ever done. For some reason his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, drawing uncontrollable quick puffs of air one after the other. Crowley was looking at him and Aziraphale’s nose felt clogged. It was strange and embarrassing.

“We will need a bed.”

Aziraphale nodded, glad for the distraction.

“Yes… yes. Maybe I could miracle one upstairs and we could relocate…”

Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly the sofa wasn’t a sofa anymore. Aziraphale lifted an aristocratic eyebrow and looked reproachfully at the demon.

“I happen to like my furniture as it is.”

Crowley shrugged, making himself comfortable on the bed. At least the dashing fiend had provided tartan covers. After a second or two spent in contemplation, Aziraphale sighed and made himself comfortable next to him.

“Uff… now what should we do?”

Crowley smiled, his left hand busy petting Aziraphale cheek. Were they allowed to do that? To simply be?

“Now, angel, we sleep.”

It was love, yes. Aziraphale was sure of it.

#Inktober2019 I love her

#Inktober2019 cleanups (first batch)

#1

Soft husbands in love with books