Soft conversations bounced off the white walls. Figures moved throughout the space, admiring the pieces along every wall. Families, artists, couples, and hundreds of others came and went, all while two continued to stand in front of one particular piece of art.
They stood, hand and hand, looking into their past.
-------------------------------------------
Crowley and Aziraphale decided to go to the art museum today. A calm rain hit the rooftops, inspiring Aziraphale. Crowley was happy to oblige, partially to see the art and partially because it made the angel so happy to see it again. It was a simple thing, to walk around a quiet space and simply look. They would discuss certain pieces, or Crowley would just listen to a story Aziraphale had. A museum is a wonderful place that only humans could have created. And he loved museums all the more for that fact.
Aziraphale wanted to see what was considered art nowadays and reminisce on classics. He knew many artists, as did Crowley, and wanted to see certain pieces again. Aziraphale loved a select few, but knew so much more. These spaces were wonderful; full of stories both true and imagined. Art could be anything you wanted, and sharing that experience with the person you loved was all the more special and wonderful.
In the past, they both knew Leonardo and Michelangelo, but also O’Keefe, Frida, Picasso, Van Gogh, and countless others. They both influenced and admired, watching the artists create something that would change certain people’s worlds.
And today seemed to be the right day to remember.
--
They had joined hands as soon as they stepped beside each other outside the Bentley and didn’t let go. The two were comfortable and affectionate, always willing to show the world, even if they never got used to it. It was fine by them, made every day together a little bit of a miracle they were happy to perform.
The two began in the modern art, deciding to go backward in time.
They saw the abstract and minimalist art, quietly making snide comments.
Crowley would lean down and place his lips so they barely brushed the angel’s ear, saying, “wow, a white piece of paper with a blue stripe on it. Groundbreaking.” He would simply straighten up and move on like nothing was said. Aziraphale would give a little snicker and offer up his own comment on the next piece.
“Hm, a bunch of fingerprints. Think they plagiarized a three-year-old?”
They would laugh together but try to hide it as they didn’t want to be kicked out within the first 10 minutes of being there. So they walked a little faster out of the modern art to not get a complaint.
They soon moved into the 20th century, finding more meaningful art. Aziraphale would tell a story about Picasso, Crowley would share an experience with Frida Kahlo. Whenever one talks, the other would admire. Aziraphale would talk with such passion, connecting to the emotions he felt in that moment from himself and the artist. Crowley watched the angel talk, admiring the connection and feeling the emotions seep into him. He loved to see his angel so passionate.
Crowley loved the drama of a story, of course, so Aziraphale would always get so invested. Crowley made it more of a rollercoaster with the action and Aziraphale would love the ride. He loved to picture Crowley in that situation and follow the story through the images. He would always react dramatically with “no!”s or big gasps when something huge happened.
They continued throughout the galleries. They explored different cultures and eras, emotions and stories. Every once in a while one would point out themselves. It was bound to happen, but they realized it was much more common than either expected.
After an hour of walking around the various areas, they came to a religious section with classic Christian portrayals. Saw a few depictions of beings they knew, maybe laughed a little (or a lot) at a depiction of Gabriel that really did not do him justice.
They continued around until a painting caught Crowley’s eye and he froze. His eyes widened and he couldn’t pull himself away even as Aziraphale began to pull on his arm from walking in another direction.
“Oh! You have to see this one, Michael just looks absolutely... “ He cut off his sentence when he almost stumbled as Crowley became a statue (his favorite piece of art.) He turned, asking,
“What is it?”
As he stepped beside Crowley, he froze. His mouth opened slightly, surprised to see the piece in front of him.
And there they stood, seeming to stand in front of themselves. A mirror, a window into the past.
An angel stood within the Garden as a snake reached down from a branch, nearing the angel’s extended hand.
Now the snake stood, holding the angel’s hand.
They stayed still for a while, the shock of the sight still controlling their thoughts and bodies. It was labeled as anonymous. Aziraphale did not recognize it. No other paintings in this section matched the style. But it was beautiful. Brilliant colors, a personal style. It possessed layers of stories within the canvas.
After a while of stillness and silence, Crowley gently squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. That snapped the angel out of his haze and his emotions hit him at full force.
Memories resurfaced. He thought of those first moments with Crowley, how he was different than expected. Wasn’t threatening, wasn’t mean. He wasn’t what he was told a demon was. He was something different.
A little tear dropped down his cheek.
Crowley looked over. He wiped it away with his free hand, fingers lingering on the angel’s cheek.
Aziraphale did his best to smile but was buried deep in his thoughts. A flood of memories crashed in his mind. Seeing all the other paintings was nothing compared to this one.
“This is mine.”
Aziraphale looked to Crowley.
“What?” Aziraphale asked gently.
Crowley remained looking at the painting.
“This is mine.”
Memories had hit Crowley as well, but very different ones. He thought of the times he painted. When he was in pain. Missing the angel or hurt from the last meeting. It would help to think of the good times. So he reimagined them. Painted them.
He would remember the angel that gave away a flaming sword because the humans had nothing else. He would remember the angel tempting him into lunch. He would remember the look on the angel’s face when he said he would make Hamlet a success.
He didn’t always nap during those long periods.
But he had kept them in a warehouse with many other paintings. Which ended up in the possession of Nazi Germany during World War II. He thought they were lost forever, with only a memory remaining. But here was one. Maybe the others were somewhere too.
A piece of him felt he should cry at seeing it again. A lost piece. But the stories on the canvas were too happy for tears to fall. It was simply shock, happiness, and realizing he would have to tell the angel it was his painting. Because who else would have that kind of detail?
“It is?”
Aziraphale stared at Crowley’s profile.
Crowley turned his head.
“Yes.”
They stared for a while, more emotions hitting Aziraphale.
After a while, he turned to look back at the painting. Emotions parting, it made sense. It was accurate, more accurate than any artist could guess. The Garden, Crowley’s scales, Aziraphale’s wings.
Crowley watched as Aziraphale analyzed the painting. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Shame, fear, love, pride?
Aziraphale returned his eyes to Crowley. He smiled.
Crowley let out a breath and returned the smile.
Aziraphale gave him a quick kiss and Crowley reddened slightly but continued to smile.
“It’s beautiful,” the angel whispered.
Crowley looked back to the painting. He squeezed the angel’s hand again and leaned just a little bit closer.
Didn’t need to share a story about this one.
--
Soft conversations bounced off the white walls. Figures moved throughout the space, admiring the pieces along every wall. Families, artists, couples, and hundreds of others came and went, all while two continued to stand in front of one particular piece of art.
They stood, hand and hand, looking into their past.
---------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed! I realized in the middle of this that there was a fic I read where Crowley was a painter and decided to go in that direction. I can’t remember who wrote it for the life of me, so if you know, let me know!
I’m a sucker for museums. I dream of having dates there, (but having a date first would help,) so we got more self-projection on our hands. Love a soft moment!!
I love writing soft and tender pieces, so if you have any suggestions, hit me up! I head back to university in September, so I want to get all my writing out now.
He thought it would be fun to try and had seen a lot of photos of it. It looked fast, fun, and a little dangerous. He wasn’t sure if the angel would go for it, though. He figured he could convince Aziraphale, but this might be pushing it.
He loved that little daring side of Aziraphale, one of the many things he loves. But this? Not sure if he’ll like it or even be willing to go for it.
“Come on, Angel. Let’s just try it.” Crowley said, trying to be convincing.
Aziraphale gave a look of hesitation.
“You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Yes! If humans can do it all the time, we definitely can. We only have to do one and if you don’t like it, we can leave.” He gave Aziraphale a second to consider. “I just wanna see what it’s like.” A tiny pout appeared on his face.
“Oh, fine. Might as well.” Aziraphale resigned.
Crowley gave him a wide smile. Oh, this would be fun.
----
They arrived at the zip-lining center the next morning. They got checked in and easily convinced the manager they didn’t need new outfits, they would be just fine (how was he going to zipline in that outfit? Don’t worry about it). Crowley was definitely more prepared outfit-wise, but he loved witnessing the angel climb into the gear with his waistcoat on. Crowley smiled for the five minutes of Aziraphale struggling. He eventually gave up the coat, but he maintained the vest and button-up. An amazing sight he will never forget.
As they drove up and walked towards the first line, Aziraphale grew more nervous. He had first grabbed Crowley’s hand on the bus. Soon, he was squeezing tighter and walking a little closer. He barely registered that they were given instructions on how to stop and other important things. But that’s a problem for later.
While Crowley found it just a little funny to watch the angel be nervous for this, he felt just a little bad for being the cause. He tried his best to reassure him every once in a while, but it could only do so much.
Aziraphale stepped up onto the platform; he had gained a little bit of bravery and wanted to go before Crowley.
He was hooked up and taking steadying breaths.
“No need to worry! This one is short and if you need to, you can still walk back to the bus.”
Aziraphale nodded at the young woman who was about to push him off this ledge.
“Alright, remember, she’ll signal down there when you should start slowing down. Ready?”
He looked back at Crowley for a split second and Crowley offered a little smile in return.
Aziraphale then pushed off.
Oh, God.
Oh, wait.
Oh, this is kinda nice!
He felt the breeze and watched the view. It was beautiful and he felt free. Like he was flying again. Wasn’t quite the same, but came as close as possible.
He extended his hands and closed his eyes. He let the sun cover his face and breeze ripple through his curls. It was lovely, so lovely to feel this again. All fear had dissipated from his body and he simply enjoyed the ride.
Why was he ever so nervous? He figures he never thought of it in a flying way. Thank god Crowley got him to do this!
Too soon, the other instructor signaled to slow down and then he was back on his feet. He couldn’t get the smile off his face.
As the instructor unhooked him, she asked, “So I see you enjoy it?”
“Oh, yes! I was so nervous but that was so wonderful!”
She smiled and turned back to the line, waiting for Crowley.
Back at the top, Crowley was hooked in and ready to go. Oh, he was so ready. Was he allowed to run into it and try and create sparks? Beat a record for speed? Maybe the next one, don’t want to rush into it.
He took off and felt joy for a second, but accidentally looked down. Damn, that was a long drop.
He could easily save himself, or Aziraphale would, but still.
This really did not seem like the pictures.
In his head, he started to freak out a little.
Felt a little too close to falling.
Too close.
Too close.
He looked ahead, trying to find his angel. He had a huge smile on his face.
That’s nice. He enjoyed it. More than he thought he would. Good.
Not how he felt, but still nice to see.
Thank whoever that he was told to slow down and ended up on the platform.
I think I like staying on the ground. Fast in the Bentley is fine, don’t need to get above ground.
“What did you think?” Aziraphale asked cheerfully.
“Er…” He avoided answering as he was unhooked.
Once out, he took Aziraphale by the arm and pulled him a little ways away from the group. They were in the middle of the group, so they had a little time before they had to head to the next line.
Aziraphale’s smile slowly dropped and his face grew into a look of concern. Crowley kept a straight look on his face, but he was still a little freaked out inside.
“Are you alright?”
“Er, uh…” He didn’t know how to say this, whether it was because he was so excited initially or because Aziraphale seemed to enjoy it so much. “I didn’t like that as much as I thought I would.” He said more quietly than he expected.
“Oh.” Aziraphale looked down. He slowly reached to grab his hand. “That’s okay, we can still go. The bus is still here to head back down.” Aziraphale offered. Always a damn good person. After their relationship had grown into something more intimate, passionate, loving, Crowley’s emotions were closer to the surface. He always put Aziraphale first, made sure he was happy first.
“No, you enjoyed it. I can tell, I’ll head down and wait in the car for you.” He squeezed his hand, kissed his cheek, and started to let go.
Aziraphale gripped his hand a little tighter to stop him. Crowley looked up with wide eyes.
“It’s not worth it without you.”
The angel offered a little puppy-dog eyed look and Crowley knew he couldn’t resist that look.
He looked down, needing to avoid that gaze to figure something out. He looked around, scanning through every idea in his mind.
Soon enough, Crowley’s head shot up with an idea. Before Aziraphale could say anything, Crowley was looking around to see if anyone was looking their direction.
Confirming no one was, he sank down into his snake form.
Aziraphale watched him go down, still a little confused. How was that going to help right now?
Crowley slithered up and around the angel’s body to perch his head onto his shoulder. He whispered his plan into the angel’s ear. His face lit up and agreed instantly.
He walked back to the platform, Crowley hidden beneath the layers of Aziraphale’s outfit. The instructor asked where his friend went and simply responded with,
“My boyfriend wasn’t feeling well after that first one so he went back down.” He faked concern on his face, but once she turned back around, he smiled.
----
Crowley had decided that riding with Aziraphale would be much more enjoyable. While this place didn’t have the set-up for doubles, he remembered he had another form.
So, he went back to his snake form, (the perfect in-between size to be able to hide but also wrap around the angel). He wanted to make sure he couldn’t fall, so he wrapped tightly around Aziraphale and Aziraphale made sure to keep a hand on him while they flew.
He would hide within his clothes between rides, not wanting to freak anyone out. Well, Aziraphale didn’t want to freak anyone out. Crowley happily would have scared every other person in this group. Expect the instructors, they were the saviors here.
But during rides, he would poke his head out, usually sit on his shoulder, and watch. It was much more enjoyable this way. He still felt a nice breeze but didn’t have to worry about falling or looking down. Plus, he was warm within the angel’s clothes.
He was so much more comfortable. He always loved wrapping around Aziraphale, whether human or snake, and he could still make the angel happy. The perfect compromise. Plus, he was in the perfect position to mess with Aziraphale a little.
During one ride, Crowley poked his head out as usual but got just a little closer to Aziraphale’s neck. He flicked his tongue out and licked the angel’s neck.
Not expecting it at all, a little yell came out and he flailed enough to turn himself around. Thank God this one was long enough to give him time to turn. He looked sternly to Crowley on his shoulder and Crowley licked his cheek in affection.
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but a little blush and smile appeared.
He could always make up for whatever he did with a little affection.
“Gotta make sssure you know I’m ssstill here, Angel.” He whispered into his ear.
“Trust me, I can’t forget.”
----
In the end, Crowley remained within Aziraphale’s clothes as he got out of the harness, grabbed his coat, and headed to the car.
“Thank you for taking me, Crowley.”
“Of courssse, Angel. Apologiesss for thisss inconvenience.”
“Oh, no need to apologize! I’m glad you found a way to still do it. Plus, I do enjoy this just a little bit,” gesturing to Crowley wrapped around him.
“Mmm, me too, Angel.”
Aziraphale kissed his head in response and got into the car. Before leaving, Crowley gave Aziraphale’s face a little lick and slithered across his arm into the driver’s seat. He transformed back to his human form and smiled at the angel.
“We’ll have to find other activities where I can wrap around you,” Crowley smirked and starting the engine, music blasting before Aziraphale could say anything.
