Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aziraphale tinked glasses with Crowley, nodding a 'cheers'.

Inside each of their respective glasses rippled the complex reds and maroons of their, aged to perfection, 1827 wine.

Aziraphale held his glass in one hand, idly rolling his wrist to even out the drink while his other hand held the bottle. He eyed the label in his drunken haze, squinting in perplexity.

Crowley cocked one brow, swishing his wine into one cheek as he spoke. 

"Whot r'you dewing?" Crowley slurred, swallowing his wine with an inquisitive look. The demon was heavily drunk, and lazily slung over an arm chair. 

Aziraphale blinked slowly, shifting his gaze up to the demon with a droopy smile. The Angel was less drunk, but was still intoxicated enough to be demeaning to his own sense of righteousness.

"I was simply- er.." Aziraphale immediately lost his train of thought in Crowley's harsh yellow eyes.

Aziraphale looked down, turning the bottle's label once again to his gaze. His face lit up as he remembered himself. "Ah-! I was looking at this, it's, date. Date of brewery.. creation.. when it came to be.."

As Aziraphale rambled on about the different variations of the term 'birth' he reached across to give Crowley the bottle.

Aziraphale stopped his Incessant rambling to inform the poor dazed demon. "D'you see that? Eighteen seventy... twenty! Er- no, no. That's not right. Just- give it here, give it here-"

Crowley, who hadn't really taken the bottle and more so had it shoved into his hands willingly, watched Aziraphale curiously as he handed him back the wine. 

After some serious inspection and a dignified sip of wine, Aziraphale confidently exclaimed that the date was in fact- "Eighteen. Twenty. Seven." 

Aziraphale handed the wine back.

"That was... quite the year." Aziraphale said, looking lost in memory. He drifted his eyes up to the ceiling as he laid his head back.

"Whot did summin 'appen?" Crowley asked, staring at Aziraphale's revealed neck, chin rested on his fist. 

Aziraphale dropped his chin, looking Crowley dead in the eyes. "What?" Aziraphale waited for a punchline.

When there was none, the Angel continued. "Did something happen?" Aziraphale repeated. His eyes widened and he looked shocked, more so than he should be. 

Crowley could easily be lying so Aziraphale could explain, as he loved to do. Or Crowley could actually be entirely earnest about not knowing what happened. Aziraphale tried to read Crowley, but it was hard to get anything useful out of that absolutely starstruck look and the glassy film over those stunning, dilated, snake eyes.

Aziraphale's mouth had unknowingly been opening and closing this whole time as he searched for a response. 

Crowley watched Aziraphales lips for a few long moments before letting out a guffaw that startled Aziraphale out of his overthinking.

At this point Aziraphales consciousness had been leading him down the thought path of 'the duality of demons' if there was such a thing. And if there wasn't; Aziraphale had just invented it.

"Hehehrhe- Hic, yew, ya looked like a lil' fishhhy." Crowley chuckled to himself, gesturing at Aziraphale's face which was reddening. The Angel quickly tried to compose himself.

"Angel... fish." Crowley ventured. 

"Please, Crowley, could we go one, just one night, without discu-"

"That is a fissh.. right?" Crowley looked off into space. "So many fish.."

"Crowley! For God's-"

Crowley stood suddenly and stepped over to Aziraphale's chair, dipping down until he was face to face with the Angel. Aziraphale was effectively shut up by the rich earthy scent of Crowley and the even heavier smell of Crowley's own intoxcation.

The demon seemed completely unbothered as he lazily messed with Aziraphale's bow tie, avoiding the Angel's gaze completely. 

The whole interaction was sobering Aziraphale up a bit, not to mention the scare of Crowleys laugh from before.

"I.." Crowley brought his serpentine eyes back up to bore into Aziraphale's own. The Angel's hands gripped his armchair with desperation. "I have a sssecret." 

Aziraphale tilted his head, it was evident how disappointed he was when Crowley pulled away, but the demon paid no mind. Or simply didn't notice.

"You're gonna loove thisss." Crowley said proudly, strutting(stumbling) away to a bookshelf.

Aziraphale watched half-heartedly, more so focused on fixing his disheveled bow tie. 

Crowley looked back to Aziraphale, a little hurt the Angel wasn't as intrigued as he hoped.

"C'mon 'ngel- could ya a'least pretend ta be excited?" Crowley grabbed a book off the top shelf, making his way over to Aziraphale once more.

Aziraphale eyed Crowley with a sharp look, gaze going between him and the book. "I will be- once.. once that book is back where you found it." 

Aziraphale would never admit it, but he was incredibly distraught over the fact Crowleys actions came out of nothing but intoxication. It was a bit childlike, seeing as he was drunk himself. And yet, Aziraphale still turned his nose up.

Crowley stopped in his tracks, a few feet from Aziraphales chair. He looked sad for the shortest moment before shrugging and flipping open the book.

Aziraphale watched despite everything. 

The book was hallowed and inside a handsized hip flask lay. 

The book wasn't one that Aziraphale had purchased, Crowley made sure of that when he came up with this whole thing. Not that it mattered or anything.

Crowley grabbed the flask with a satisfied click of his tongue that slinked out to wet his lips as he stared at it.

Aziraphale watched(The flask of course, not Crowleys mouth) with intrigue.

"What-" Aziraphale had accidently started sounding a bit to interested. "What issit?" 

"Laudanum!" Crowley held it up with a droopy grin, stepping to sit on Aziraphale's arm chair. He gave the bottle a little shake in front of the Angel's face. "Poison on tha outside.. good times all 'round on the inside.

Aziraphales expression crashed as he panned up to face Crowley. "Crowley-" He began to say warningly. 

Crowley clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times as he shook his head. He brought an index finger to his own mouth.

Aziraphale tried to swipe it out of Crowley's hand. Crowley was quick to rise and back away with a wide smirk gracing his sharp features. Aziraphale joined him, taking a step towards the demon. Crowley's smile quickly fell as he realized the Angel wasn't messing around. Aziraphale was being a bit too serious now for his liking.

"Crowley-!" Aziraphale whined. "You know what that will-" 

"No I don't! I dunno whot you're talkan bout!" Crowley held out one hand to keep Aziraphale back holding the now popped open lid dangerously close to his lips. Why threaten him with a good time?

"Clearly!" Aziraphale snapped back, then softened. "Just- please, give it here- you don't know.. you do? No, you don't remember what it will do." Aziraphale felt too drunk to cope with all of this... again.

It was a bit hard to say exactly what Crowley remembered about Scotland. It's bits and pieces here and there. Sure he knows what generally happened, even though he was drunk out of his mind. Somewhere deep down in Crowley's mind he recalls saying that it would be the last time he drank Laudanum back in 1827. But in his current state, that memory meant nothing to him. Right now, it was useless trying to tell him anything. With no intent to sober anytime soon, Crowley was a force to be reckoned with.

Aziraphale waved his hands infront of him as a desperate plead of a no as Crowley eyed him with raised eyebrows. Part of him wondered why Aziraphale was so intent on ruining his good time. Aziraphale obviously didn't believe it would work. Yes that was exactly it! 

Crowley took one step back, almost looking to consider Aziraphale's opinion, then quickly threw his head back and took a long swig of Laudanum.

"Crowley-!" Aziraphale exclaimed. He was frozen in shock, expectancy and fear. His mind instantly went to the worst outcome of this all: would Hell take Crowley away from him again?

Crowley swallowed the poison with a pained look as it seared down his throat.

It was so very quiet, and the air was thick.

Moments of silence passed until Crowley let out a laugh and placed his hands on his hips.

"Whoooeee!! See! Good tim-AH-!" Crowley yelped at the end of his sentence as his body blurred and dropped to the floor, instantly shrinking as he made contact with the wood.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was quick to skid over to where Crowley's corporation had shrunk. The flask of Laudanum had fallen and tumbled across the floor, the poison steadily pouring from the lid. The Angel kneels down to rest on his knees, eyeing the liquid seeping into the floorboards. He brings his hand up, making a complicated gesture. The flask is turned upright and the lid is shut. The contents were either placed back in the bottle or miracled into oblivion.

Judging by Aziraphale's pouting expression and the firmness in his gaze it was probably the ladder.

As the Angel was preforming his miracle he felt sharp taps on his knee. He glances down, his face shifting into surprise then very quickly back into stern stoicism.

A miniature Crowley is pounding his scrunched fists against Aziraphale's knee, grunting in annoyance until the Angel's attention is grabbed. Crowley stumbles back, pointing an accusing finger up to Aziraphale's face.

"You!" Crowley pauses dramatically. "Yew knew this would 'appen!" Crowley cries out in Aziraphale's direction, voice pitched hilariously high.

Crowley jumps back when Aziraphale shifts on his knees to straighten himself up, his leg moving dangerously close to Crowley. He almost falls backwards after avoiding Aziraphales 'attack'.

The demon's expressions shifts from: 'He almost hit me!' To: 'How dare he try and hit me!'.

The Angel holds a hand over his heart at the accusation, scoffing loudly. "Oh, don't you dare, Mister Crowley!" He said, bringing a hand down to Crowley's stature and prodding his chest with his index. "Don't even try to blame me. You brought this upon yourself."

Crowley wildly flails his arms about to shoo away Aziraphale's hand, ignoring all that the Angel had to say. "Lookit me!" He exclaimed, gesturing to himself. "I'm small.." He concluded sadly.

"I can see that." Aziraphale said grumpily, folding his hands into his lap as he watched Crowley.

Crowleys sadness faded as quick as it came and he growled under his breath. The demon grabbed onto the fabric of Aziraphale's pants, unsuccessfully trying to hop up onto his leg.

"Yew- *grunt* could'a at- atleast! Tried to ssstop me!" Crowley managed to climb onto Aziraphale's knee, swaying as he tried to balance himself while still pointing up at the Angel. "Thisiz humiliating!"

Aziraphale quickly had a hand behind Crowley incase he fell back with a worried look in his eyes. When the Angel realized he still wanted to be mad at him, he rolled his eyes. 

"I did try and stop you, but foiling isn't exactly my job. You're the wily serpent here after all! You're supposed to sabotage plans! Not me!" Aziraphale argued.

Crowley wanted to shoo away Aziraphale's hand once more but the movement knocked him off balance, his body stumbling back and leaning into Aziraphale's palm. He tried to play it off cool but couldn't exactly heave himself up at the awkward angle. 

"Oh- Oh yeaaa, okay that makes thisss all a'ight then?" Crowley said sarcastically, trying to shield his newfound vulnerability by crossing his arms.

"Of course it does." Aziraphale answered with shared sarcasm through gritted teeth. He didn't want to admit how adorable this looked, he was still upset with the circumstances.

The two sat there for a long moment, Crowley squirming in his position uncomfortably. 

Aziraphale brought his other hand to cup around Crowley all while he looked down at him. The Angel's expression screamed: 'I told you so'.

Crowley watched with narrowed and knowing eyes, his face flushed from his drunkeness and embarrassment. He looked up at Aziraphale, immediately frowning at the look he was being given. 

"Oh c'mon-" Crowley huffed.

"What?" Aziraphales mood was shifting as this continued.

"Don't gimmie that look." Crowley avoided looking at him.

"What look?" Aziraphale grinned.

"Angel please just-!" Crowley exclaimed then lowered his voice. "Couldyouhelpme." He mumbled quickly.

"Could you speak up Dear boy? I can't quite hear you." Aziraphale tried not to chuckle.

"Could you!-" Crowley grumbled into his hands as he drew them over his face. "Could. You. Help me." 

Aziraphale took a thoughtful moment before shaking his head. "You and I both know there's not much I can do; it's your corporation afterall. You'll have to do it..." Aziraphale trailed off, looking up to his roof slowly. "...yourself."

Crowley followed his gaze not quite understanding the sudden dramatics.

"I could- I could doit." Crowley hiccuped.

Aziraphale immediately shook his head. "No- No, Crowley not here- I forbid it." Aziraphale said with urgency, frantically looking around. 

The Angel set Crowley on the ground and stood, beginning to move to the front door to check out the windows. 

"Whats tha trouble!?" Crowley called out to him, his voice squeaking. 

"Nothing at all just-" Aziraphale cut himself off, peeking out once more. Inwardly the Angel was contemplating moving Crowley out into the street. He asked himself why Soho had to have such a wild nightlife. His one solution was immediately shut down by his better judgement.

"Just whot? I ssswear I can doit!" Crowley wrung out his wrists and rolled his neck already getting ready. He hopped around a bit to get the 'blood flowing'.

"Crowley, wait!" Aziraphale rushed back over, leaning on his armchair and peering down at the demon. Either this could go horribly right or horribly wrong. Aziraphale was somehow sweating.

"Can't we wait..? Till you sober?" Aziraphale's voice trembled out a plea. 

"Oh please- I'm as sober azzit gets!" Crowley laughed, and was exactly the opposite.

Aziraphale's eyes flickered around the room, his mouth open as he looked for something to say.

"I'm doinit." Crowley said simply.

As Crowley began to try and shift he grunted and 'ha'd over-dramatically, making very odd movements. Whatever floats your boat I guess. The demon stumbled and fell back on his arse just as it began to work.

Aziraphale watched in horror, gripping onto the arm chair as he watched Crowley grow.

Chapter Text

Crowleys last yell transformed from high-pitched, to normal, to slightly deeper than usual. The demon found himself growing more than intented, and it was rightfully freaking him out. His head bumped the roof of the first story, causing him to groan and shift, moving over to the opening to the second floor.

Crowley's hair brushed up against the ceiling, and he ducked with a surprised yelp, arms tucked close to his chest. His knee knocked against the spiral staircase, causing Aziraphale to gasp and cup a hand over his mouth. 

As the building accommodated for the size of his body(because physics works around occult beings), chairs were pushed out of the way and a table covered in books was disregarded by his sudden expanse. Even Aziraphale was forced to move away.

Crowley was stuck in the opening between the first and second story and neither of them were happy about it.

Aziraphale rounded Crowleys enlarged snake skin boot. Watching his bookshelves with fear as Crowley shifted around.

Aziraphale rushed to hold onto a shelf that probably didn't have to be held. 

Above Aziraphale, Crowley was turning his head around wildly. In his drunken state, his breathing was becoming erratic. "Anngeelll..." Crowley whined, looking around the second story, taking note of a few fire extinguishers.

Aziraphale sighed loudly, cautiously letting the bookshelf out of his grip. "Crowley.." He returned, sounding tired as he rubbed his eyes. This was all too familiar and all too tiring for the poor Angel.

"Where.. where are you.." Crowley asked nervously, shoulders up to his ears and one arm awkwardly bent between him and the wall.

"I'm still here," Aziraphale reassured, moving around to reach the spiral staircase.

"I cant sssee you?" Crowley asked, genuinely worried. Even though Aziraphale was upset that all this was happening, he wasn't completely mad. 

"I'm coming up." Aziraphale said to soothe the demon, who's breathing was becoming quicker by the second. 

Aziraphale began his ascension, watching as the fabric of Crowleys shirt was pinching him against the metal bars of the staircase. The demon often winced with the lack of comfort this provided. As Aziraphale stepped up the stairs, Crowley, for his own sake, tried to say something humorous.

"Is thisuh bad time to say m'claustrophobic?" Crowleys chuckled sounded more like a pitiful wheeze. However, it cracked a smile out of his companion. 

Aziraphale shook his head, firstly in disbelief that this was even happening and secondly with the fact that Crowley was desperately trying to face the stairs. He felt sympathy and a bit of regret that he couldn't have prevented this well in his chest. "No, just- hang on." 

The sight of white tufts of hair appearing out of the opening where the staircase lied caused Crowley to sigh in relief. The demon was scared confined like this and still dazed in his drunkeness. These two factors combined had his eyes enlarged, and fully snake like. He wanted to reach out for Aziraphale but frankly could only move his neck.

"Angel!" Crowleys scared look faded into relief and then extreme worry.

Aziraphale stepped over to the balcony of the second floor, staring at the disheveled Crowley. "Good lord.."

"Oh Angel-" Crowley was suddenly emotional? "I'm sorry- I prob'ly knocked some book o'er or- or- sssquished you.. did I squish you? I bet I did.." Crowley's voice was a low whine, and he sounded on the verge of tears.

He shut his eyes and let out a cry. "I squished my Angeeelll..." Crowleys voice shook sadly and he rested his head against the wall, grieving?

"Crowley! Crowley, I'm not squished?" Aziraphale reached out over the balcony, his hand patting Crowleys large shoulder to remind him that he was infact still here. "See? I'm right here. Er- not flat at all." 

Crowley opened his eyes at the gesture, blinking away tears. "Oh." 

He looked down at where his lap and legs were covered by the first story ceiling. "I didn't.. hit any booksss?" He asked, eyes wide with expectancy.

"Not a one." Aziraphale answered calmly, face gentle. He rubbed his shoulder as best as he could.

Crowley, still pouting, stared at Aziraphale's hand. 

He shifted, body moving carefully and slowly in the little space he had. Aziraphale looked scared for a split instant, watching Crowley intently. The now colossal demon drowsily laid his chin on the balcony of the second floor with a long exhale from his nose that ruffled Aziraphale's coat. The Angel stepped back, eyeing him curiously before stepping forward again. Crowley's eyes were lidded and flickered down to the floor in shame. His expression was hard and his eyebrows were knitted together.

Aziraphale's face softened but he remained curious as he reached his hand out and brushed his knuckles against Crowley's cheek. The demon sighed gently, eyes closing. His face relaxed.

"M'sorry An-" 

"Don't be." Aziraphale cut him off. "Atleast... not yet." The Angel took a moment to think, giving Crowley time to ponder as well. Aziraphale then softly chuckled to himself. "I'll be expecting a dance." 

Crowley's eyebrows scrunched together once more and his eyes blinked open. "I don't do tha dancee." He whined and pouted, moving his head ever so slightly away from Aziraphale's palm.

"Oh come now Crowley, how else would you apologize?" Aziraphale smiled like he was a mastermind. 

Crowley looked to the side, thinking. Then, as quickly as he could, he pressed a kiss to Aziraphale's form. It was lazy, and covered the Angel's face and neck in one peck, but it was something. 

"Crowley Good god-!" The Angel wiped a hand over his face, slightly mortified.

"I-" Aziraphale was stunned- caught off guard and extremely flushed. "Well I- urhm.." The Angel messed with his lapels.

Little did he know, Crowley had just dozed off on the balconys railing. He was alerted of this when Crowley let out a soft snore.

"Crowley I never.. er- Crowley? Crowleey?" Aziraphale gently patted the demon's cheek to see if he was out. Crowley's only response was smacking his lips mid-snore.

"Dear me.." Aziraphale shook his head, an amused smile on his face. He leaned up, giving Crowley's temple a quick peck. "I'll accept your apology.. you won't have to do the dance." He whispered, hand over his mouth as he walked away to an upstairs room.

___

Crowley awoke the next day at regular size, in the guest bedroom upstairs in Aziraphale's bookshop.

He groggily swiped a hand over his face and peeked at the nightstand when he heard the sound of a miracle. A black mug with wing handles had miraculously been just miracled to the room containing earl grey. Crowley reached for it to be rid of his cotton-mouth when he spotted something next to it.

Crowley gasped, looking petrified as he remembered the night before, he quickly gathered himself and rushed out the door, forgetting all about his tea.

A note on the nightstand read:

'I'm allowing you to skip the Apology Dance.'