He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to the angel's mouth. Crowley, converse to Aziraphale, doesn't mind the public displays all that much. In fact, he would dare anyone to have a problem with it.
Of course, this is California. He's certain the people here have seen odder than two apparently honeymooning men. One with a halo.
"Hm?" he asks, but then melts into the kiss instead, totally distracted by whatever Crowley just said to him. It's a soft, glittering thing above his head, but barely there, and almost looks like it could just be errant curls catching the light just so.
As they get to the front of the line, the hostess, thankfully saying nothing, takes them in to get seated and pours them both flights as a sommelier starts explaining.
Crowley is only sort of listening. He knows a lot about wine, he was there when it was first invented. It's been really interesting, over the years, watching the way humans get so technical about their wine. Everything has to be complicated and confusing, but---as he takes a sip of the sampled wine---they do produce great results.
He lets his free hand slide over to Aziraphale's, curling their fingers together.
He perks up on contact but then eases into it, smiling softly to himself.
Once the woman is done explaining, Aziraphale takes one of the glasses as instructed, swirls it around to aerate it, smells it. "Dark cherry, rich chocolate notes, with just a dash of spice and hm."
He takes a sip, lets it sit on his tongue, and swallows. "Just a little rose. Mm, Crowley, you know who this reminds me of?"
"No, who?" Crowley asks, taking his own careful sip. He draws a little air through his teeth over the wine to further aerate it. It's not bad, not at all. Amazing, considering the world they're in, that they still have this wine. All these bottles, able to share and sample them.
Crowley takes a sniff of his wine and considers it. "I don't----I suppose I could see it. Sort of." The chocolate, the rose---yeah, Crowley could see that being associated with his former persona, the Nanny Ashtoreth.
"And what sort of wine would be the same as your gardener, eh?" he asks, taking another sip.
"Emphasis on the simple," Crowley teases. "Was there a reason you had to do the teeth, too? You could've just appeared as yourself."
Not that it wasn't deliriously fun watching Aziraphale run around as that gardener those years. Acting as though they were just part of the staff was actually pretty fun. Crowley, of course, became a bit too attached to Warlock, but that was to be expected. Nannies often did.
"It was fun. You couldn't have all the fun, darling. Though I daresay, I don't think I'll ever revisit that look but if you ever wanted to..." He lifts his eyebrows suggestively.
"I've got my purple lipstick somewhere, I'm sure." He takes a sip of wine. "I know I left that umbrella behind though. Look won't be complete, but I can certainly make it work."
Not that he expected Aziraphale to prefer the severe look he'd established for his Nanny role. All the same, Crowley does love giving the angel what he wants.
Oh, Aziraphale. Always full of surprises. Crowley privately wonders what other parts of the angel he doesn't know about will slowly show now that they are here with their relationship.
He takes a sip of the next wine and moves his hand from where it rests with Aziraphale's down, to rest on his thigh.
But he manages to keep his composure, and moves swiftly onto the third wine. This one, he likes better. "Ooh, try this," he says, once he's drunk a sip. "Blackberry. Dark, but fruity. Young. I think I'd like a bottle. But we'll need at least two of the first."
"Of course," Crowley agrees. He takes a sip of the one Aziraphale mentioned. It is nice, very simple and rich. He could easily just buy them a case of whatever it is the angel likes and ship it back to London. After all, they have their whole lives to drink them.
He slides his hand to the inside of the angel's thigh. Above the table, he is cool and calm, taking another sip of wine.
"This last one tastes more like a winter wine," he comments, idly.
His mind is entirely occupied with distracting Aziraphale. Frankly, he thinks, the two of them becoming lovers was the worst thing to happen to Crowley's attention span. Because now, he really doesn't want to focus on other things when he could be attempting to seduce the angel at any given moment.
But---he reminds himself, they can't spend their whole lives in bed. Of course, Crowley would spend several decades asleep when things were boring enough outside, so why couldn't they spend a few decades in each others' arms? Then, eventually, go out and see everything else.
Crowley could propose it later and Aziraphale would be all for it, but he's busy right now trying to enjoy his wine and thwarting his soon-to-be husband from causing a scene.
So really, same old, same old.
"Honestly, Crowley, please," he starts, but he can't hide his amused laugh at the end.
Some of the other patrons have started to notice, and one of the younger women leans in and whispers to her boyfriend, "I hope we're like that when we're older."
Crowley could behave, but he certainly doesn't want to. All the same, he'll take a sip of his drink and relax his hand on Aziraphale's thigh, not furthering his misbehavior, but not continuing onward. After all, he doesn't actually want to embarrass the angel.
"What do you think about taking a ride to the beach next?" he says, moving to the next glass. "Or a walk, if you'd prefer. Go for another swim?"
Crowley secretly also wants to see the state of this ocean as well.
"Mm, that sounds wonderful, but on one condition. You must wear a swimsuit this time," he says. "Can't have you wading around in your trousers, darling."
Aziraphale helps himself to a few of the biscuits that are supposed to clear his palate, and then one of the ladies suggests that they order a fancy cheese plate. Aziraphale, of course, jumps at the chance.
"Make that two please," he requests, and allows himself to lean against Crowley's shoulder.
"Solid black for you, of course. Solid or with a snakeskin texture, I should think." He sits up straight again as they bring in another flight of wines based on the one they've chosen to upgrade to a full size.
Crowley eyes the next flight of wines and gives Aziraphale a smile. "So is this what retirement is going to be like? Drinking wine with you all over the world? Certainly not complaining, I just want to set my expectations where they should be."
"We'll do more things but drink wine! We could go to a show, or-- you wanted to go to the beach, and maybe we could go visit the zoo. You like the zoo, don't you? I could leave you to make new friends in the reptile house," he says, definitely joking.
Crowley raises an eyebrow. "I don't need more reptilian friends. Especially not from zoos. Believe me, too many of them just turn out to be demons who got lazy and wanted somewhere to relax. Constantly fed? No fear of predators? Perfect place to hole up for a few centuries."
Retirement with Aziraphale is going to be spectacular. There's so much they can just do without their home offices breathing down their necks.
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He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to the angel's mouth. Crowley, converse to Aziraphale, doesn't mind the public displays all that much. In fact, he would dare anyone to have a problem with it.
Of course, this is California. He's certain the people here have seen odder than two apparently honeymooning men. One with a halo.
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As they get to the front of the line, the hostess, thankfully saying nothing, takes them in to get seated and pours them both flights as a sommelier starts explaining.
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He lets his free hand slide over to Aziraphale's, curling their fingers together.
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Once the woman is done explaining, Aziraphale takes one of the glasses as instructed, swirls it around to aerate it, smells it. "Dark cherry, rich chocolate notes, with just a dash of spice and hm."
He takes a sip, lets it sit on his tongue, and swallows. "Just a little rose. Mm, Crowley, you know who this reminds me of?"
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He offers Crowley the glass, even though he has one of his own with the same wine.
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"And what sort of wine would be the same as your gardener, eh?" he asks, taking another sip.
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He grins.
"I think he'd be a nice dessert wine. Watermelon, perhaps. Something simple and fruity."
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Not that it wasn't deliriously fun watching Aziraphale run around as that gardener those years. Acting as though they were just part of the staff was actually pretty fun. Crowley, of course, became a bit too attached to Warlock, but that was to be expected. Nannies often did.
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Is Aziraphale even allowed to make this face?
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"I've got my purple lipstick somewhere, I'm sure." He takes a sip of wine. "I know I left that umbrella behind though. Look won't be complete, but I can certainly make it work."
Not that he expected Aziraphale to prefer the severe look he'd established for his Nanny role. All the same, Crowley does love giving the angel what he wants.
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But that was for another time.
He tears his gaze away, before the smolder inspires a flame, and busies himself with their next glass.
He doesn't have any poetic notes to say about this one.
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He takes a sip of the next wine and moves his hand from where it rests with Aziraphale's down, to rest on his thigh.
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But he manages to keep his composure, and moves swiftly onto the third wine. This one, he likes better. "Ooh, try this," he says, once he's drunk a sip. "Blackberry. Dark, but fruity. Young. I think I'd like a bottle. But we'll need at least two of the first."
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He slides his hand to the inside of the angel's thigh. Above the table, he is cool and calm, taking another sip of wine.
"This last one tastes more like a winter wine," he comments, idly.
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"Yes, slightly spicy, would be excellent warmed with a few almonds and plump raisins thrown in, don't you think?"
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His mind is entirely occupied with distracting Aziraphale. Frankly, he thinks, the two of them becoming lovers was the worst thing to happen to Crowley's attention span. Because now, he really doesn't want to focus on other things when he could be attempting to seduce the angel at any given moment.
But---he reminds himself, they can't spend their whole lives in bed. Of course, Crowley would spend several decades asleep when things were boring enough outside, so why couldn't they spend a few decades in each others' arms? Then, eventually, go out and see everything else.
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So really, same old, same old.
"Honestly, Crowley, please," he starts, but he can't hide his amused laugh at the end.
Some of the other patrons have started to notice, and one of the younger women leans in and whispers to her boyfriend, "I hope we're like that when we're older."
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"What do you think about taking a ride to the beach next?" he says, moving to the next glass. "Or a walk, if you'd prefer. Go for another swim?"
Crowley secretly also wants to see the state of this ocean as well.
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Aziraphale helps himself to a few of the biscuits that are supposed to clear his palate, and then one of the ladies suggests that they order a fancy cheese plate. Aziraphale, of course, jumps at the chance.
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He isn't at all surprised when Aziraphale is tempted into a fancy cheese plate. He gives the angel a smile, and orders a full glass of the first wine.
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"Solid black for you, of course. Solid or with a snakeskin texture, I should think." He sits up straight again as they bring in another flight of wines based on the one they've chosen to upgrade to a full size.
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Retirement with Aziraphale is going to be spectacular. There's so much they can just do without their home offices breathing down their necks.
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