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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Fluffbruary 2022
Collections:
666 Ineffable Husbands, Aspec-friendly Good Omens, Snippets and ficlets
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Published:
2022-02-02
Words:
666
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
12
Kudos:
75
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5
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330

Rainy Days

Summary:

Written for the Fluffbruary 2022 day two prompt "rain".

“Rain has always reminded me of you.”

“Lots of rain in London,” Crowley says. “Lots of rain over six thousand years.”

“Lots, yes.”

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Aziraphale watches the rain out the window in silence. Everything is silent, but for the rain splatters and the howling wind. No background noise of the city, out of London as they are. And no background noise of crickets, frogs or the occasional bark or meow from a lost pet, with the storm. Just the rain, the wind, and the breathing and beating hearts of two immortal beings with no physical need for either.

Aziraphale sits on his chair, stares out the window, and listens. Listens to the rain, the wind, to his own rhythmic breathing and beating heart, and, most importantly, to the other slow, rhythmic breathing and beating heart in the room.

Crowley is asleep. He’s taking a nap on the couch and Aziraphale can just barely see him out of the corner of his eye. Crowley is asleep and Aziraphale listens to his breathing and his heartbeat, and to the rain and wind, and he watches the rain fall on their garden out the window.

Aziraphale has long since lost track of time when Crowley starts to stir. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look away from the window, when he hears Crowley’s breathing pattern change, or when he hears him shift on the couch.

He doesn’t look away, either, when Crowley asks, his voice still rough with sleep:

“Still raining, then?”

He hums in response, and listens to the sounds of Crowley shifting and sitting up on the couch. Many minutes pass without another word. He feels Crowley’s eyes on him, and yet he still doesn’t look away. There’s one particular puddle he’s watching grow slowly now.

“What’s got you so enraptured there, angel?”

Aziraphale takes his time, considering the question. What, exactly, is it about rain that enraptures him so?

“It reminds me of you,” he says, eyes still on the growing puddle.

Crowley stays silent, letting him speak, but Aziraphale hears him shift and eventually get up from his seat.

“Of our first meeting,” he continues.

Steps walk across the room, feather-light and in no hurry.

“Rain has always reminded me of you.”

Crowley hovers next to him now, maybe a step behind his chair. Aziraphale can see his shadow, can see his reflection on the window, can feel his presence and his body heat this close.

“Every time it rained it made me wish you were by my side again,” he admits.

“Lots of rain in London,” Crowley says. “Lots of rain over six thousand years.”

“Lots, yes.”

He finally drags his eyes from the garden and turns his face to look at Crowley instead. Beautiful golden slitted eyes meet his, and he decides to stop blinking for the time being. It’s not like Crowley does it anyways.

“Always reminded me of you, too,” Crowley offers. “Of Eden. You, covering me with your wing.” He shrugs. “But a lot of things remind me of that.”

There’s a pause, then, and Aziraphale waits. He knows there’s something more coming, and he knows to wait, just like Crowley does with him.

“Rain may be my favourite, though. Of all the things that remind me of you.”

With a smile Aziraphale lifts a hand to twine with Crowley’s. Crowley smiles back and steps closer.

“Yes,” Aziraphale says. “Mine too.”

With a tug of his hand and another half-step Crowley sits down on Aziraphale’s lap. After some reorganisation of limbs they can both turn to look out the window still wrapped around each other; chest to chest and hands clasped together. They both watch the rain and listen to their hearts and breathing, so close they can feel it as well.

And by the time the rain ceases, late into the night, Aziraphale has a lapful of snoring demon, a hand still tightly clasped in his, and a new lovely memory of a rainy evening. And more importantly, he knows there will be few rainy days of missing Crowley in the future, for he suspects they will be spent with the demon by his side.

Notes:

you can find me on tumblr: thisisnotjuli is my personal blog and fanishjuli is my fandoms blog.

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