open post;

[goodtobebad]

Want to thread with the demon? Leave a prompt here! Alternately, PM this journal or add me on plurk (frodabaggins) if you want to brainstorm!

Comments

[goodtobebad]

[ The wine he conjured up is a decent madeira, so he takes a moment to enjoy a sip or two as he contemplates a response. ]

So... I'm tempting you to sloth, and you're encouraging me to industriousness by... not resisting? Wouldn't it be more industrious if you tried to resist and then I had to keep on tempting you for a while?

[goodoldfashioned]

[Oh, it is a very nice madeira.]

Mm. Probably. But it could be some other virtue. Charity or some such. That's always a good one.

[goodtobebad]

Charity? What would I want with Charity?

[ Crowley snorts, and takes another sip of his wine. ]

That'd be like... me trying to tempt you to covetousness.

[goodoldfashioned]

[Aziraphale takes a sip of wine to match.]

Well, you wouldn't want charity for yourself, obviously. That's the point of it, you're supposed to want to give things away.

[goodtobebad]

Yeah, I'm not giving anything away.

[ Crowley doesn't have much to give away, anyway. He gives Aziraphale a Look. ]

When was the last time you gave something away?

[goodoldfashioned]

You gave me those chocolates! That ought to count for something, dear boy.

[It totally counts to him. Rather a lot.]

And, hrm... I'm sure I must've...

[goodtobebad]

That wasn't charity, though.

Also, it was over two hundred years ago.

[ He raises an eyebrow at the angel. ]

I'm pretty sure you're what humans would call a hoarder.

[goodoldfashioned]

Well, I'd still give you full marks. And you could always give me chocolates now, if you like.

[Absolutely not hinting at anything, him. Nope.]

A what now?

[goodtobebad]

The gift loses something if it's been specifically asked for, don't you think?

[ Shakes his head. But of course, he will get the angel some chocolates, like, tomorrow. ]

A hoarder. You know. A human who collects way too many things. They hoard them.

[goodoldfashioned]

I'd like to think it doesn't. Knowing what someone else wants, that's not a bad thing.

[You know what else isn't a bad thing? More wine.]

I mean, I am sharing the books. They just can't. You know. Touch them. Or look at them too hard. Or buy them. But they can at least come into my shop and go, oh yes, there are books here.

[goodtobebad]

Allowing people to look at your hoard of books doesn't make you any less of a book hoarder.

[ Crowley rolls his eyes as he refills both of their wine glasses. ]

Luckily it's easy to figure out what you want, most of the time.

[goodoldfashioned]

Oh, thank you, dear.

[It's what you say when someone pours you wine, so hush.]

What else am I to do? Someone might take them home and spill coffee on them, the poor things.

[goodtobebad]

It's not like you've never spilled anything on any of your books.

[ He's just capable of miracling it away. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[Gasp!] I would never! [Okay, maybe once or twice.]

And if I did, I could just, y'know. [He makes a waggly hand motion that appears to mean "miracle it clean."]

But it's better to just keep them from getting mucked around with in the first place.

[goodtobebad]

None of what you're saying in any way makes you sound like less of a hoarder.

[ Crowley is smirking, though. Honestly, he wouldn't have Aziraphale any other way. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Right, well, just keep it under your hat, will you? I don't want to have more customers turning up browsing.

[Ugh. Customers. Aziraphale drinks some more wine at the thought of them.]

[goodtobebad]

I'm not advocating that you start actually trying to sell books, angel. I don't want customers interrupting our afternoons anymore than you do.

[ He raises his glass companionably. ]

But if we're going to take a nap together, I say we do it on a bed.

[goodoldfashioned]

Well, thank Somebody for that.

[Cheers!]

Oh-- Oh, right, the napping, yes. That's what all this was about, I remember now. Do we really need a bed, though? There's a couch right here and I'm already sitting on it.

[He thumps it a bit for demonstration.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley is drinking his wine, hold on. ]

A bed is bigger and more comfortable for napping.

[goodoldfashioned]

A very valid point.

[He polishes off his current glass.]

But that'd mean standing up, and I don't like the way the floor's tilting at the moment.

[goodtobebad]

Hm.

[ Also a fair point. Crowley frowns a bit. ]

Bed's upstairs, right?

[goodoldfashioned]

Was, yes. Still is, too.

[goodtobebad]

Shouldn't be too difficult.

[ He's not that drunk, yet. So he just grips Aziraphale's arm and blinks, once, and... yep. There it is. The bed. ]

...This bed hasn't been used in a long time, huh.

[goodoldfashioned]

[The bed has an odd collection of pillows and blankets spread across it, chosen because they looked nifty at the time. Aziraphale still thinks they do. Look nifty, he means. Wow, even his internal monologue is a bit drunk.

Aziraphale also isn't in a particular hurry to separate from where Crowley's holding him.]

I use it sometimes, just mainly for storing things on top of. Or slightly to the side.

[Speaking of the bed, though, it does look very comfortable, and Aziraphale moves to sit on the edge of it like he's falling in slow motion, magnetically attracted.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley idly snaps his fingers, to clear off any random items that aren't pillows - and also possibly dust. Otherwise, he's happy to just half-fall onto the bed. Oh. Hm. He snaps his fingers again, and the mattress becomes significantly more comfortable. ]

Hm. Naps. Let me show you angel.

[ He... well, he reaches out for Aziraphale to pull him closer. ]