Eden 2.0, or the Trials and Tribulations of A. J. Crowley, Game Programmer and Absolute Disaster
Chapter 2: Character Development
good omens // aziraphale/crowley // human AU, game development AU // rated T // chapter 2/?
Crowley – just Crowley – is a programmer at a video games studio, coasting from project to project with a bare minimum of emotional investment. He gets a good paycheck, his coworkers leave him alone, and, well, the misgendering really doesn’t bother him that much. So what if he’s tired and constantly on the verge of changing his job on a whim– he’s fine. Really.
But then along comes Aziraphale, fantasy author, consulting writer and, worst of all, a kind-hearted bastard who still sees the good in people.
So maybe there is a point to it all. And maybe it’s enough to change one person’s life.
read full chapter on AO3 here!
Crowley devours Eden in three days.
Or, more accurately, three nights.
Ever since his conversation with Anathema, he’s made sure to leave work at exactly the minute he’s done; or, if he can swing it, earlier than that. He waves off any last minute tasks Beelzebub has for him – “I’ll get to it tomorrow. Ciao!” – and, on one memorable occasion, he even turns down Aziraphale’s invitation for after-work drinks.
Okay, so that last one might have been a mistake. In Crowley’s defense, though, he was about fifty pages away from finishing the book and he really needed to know what was gonna happen to Jophiel and Angelo. At the end of the day, it’s all Aziraphale’s fault, after all.
Plus, as soon as he was done, he could buy Aziraphale all the drinks he wished for. They would also have a long talk about forms of address and how Aziraphale needs to dial it down on all the dear girls.
Problem for later, though. As it is, Crowley doesn’t wish to dwell too long on how significant it is that he’s entertaining the idea of coming out at all. If he did, he’s fairly sure smoke would start coming out his ears.
So, it only takes him three nights to finish Eden.
It goes, more or less, like this:
Every day, after work, he comes back to his sad excuse for a home – a grey, minimalist flat in Mayfair (the job does pay well) – then, he has his first proper meal of the day. He changes into his most comfortable silk pyjamas. He crawls into bed or sprawls over the sofa, sometimes with a bottle of wine in hand.
He reads with few breaks, until he’s desperate for a piss or until his stomach growls angrily. He reads until his eyes become sticky with exhaustion or until he dozes off, Eden cradled to his chest.
Eden is… well, it’s not very good, truth be told.
Crowley, as a general rule, doesn't read. That doesn’t mean he’s bloody illiterate, though. Or that he can’t tell what classifies as a good book. Eden decidedly does not. Its prose is overly flowery, it spends more time telling than showing, it drags at times. Crowley’s read a few snippets of Aziraphale’s latest writing and the difference is staggering – it’s clear the practice has paid off. But… perhaps that’s what makes Eden so special. It’s raw. Reading it, Crowley feels as though he’s been allowed a peek into Aziraphale’s most intimate journals.
Shame permeates every page. Shame and fear. It’s painfully relatable.
The night he finishes it, he can’t fall asleep for hours. He tosses in the darkness, stares at the ceiling, suddenly all too aware of every bit of his body. The way his breasts move when he breathes, the mounds tucked away between his legs, always oozing some sort of disgusting goop, the smoothness of his jaw. The rounded corners of an incorrectly designed user interface.
Come tomorrow, he’ll march into the office and once more play the role of Antonia J. Crowley, the brilliant female coder.
For now, he’s just Crowley and he’s fucking exhausted.
When he does fall asleep, it’s with the corner of Eden digging into his cheek and Aziraphale’s words ringing in his ears.
He had abandoned his skin at last and shone brilliantly, a bright sun to Angelo’s eyes. Angelo who could only smile despite the tears flowing freely down his cheeks, over the skin that tingled where Jophiel’s lips had touched it. He could still hear Jophiel’s laughter all around him.
Finally, he was free.
read full chapter on AO3 here!
