One-Shots - Good Omens | Ineffable Husbands

Worth It

TW: Cussing, things being smashed and thrown, 

"This is bullshit..." Crowley muttered. "Bullshit!"

He twirled the wine glass in his hand as he paced around his flat. He saw the statue at the end of the corridor. Why did he keep that statue? It was supposed to represent two angels battling over good and evil, although Crowley had never thought it looked like they were battling. He glared at the statue as if it would glare back. As if it understood Crowley's anger towards it.

In one swift movement, Crowley hurled the wine glass down the hall. It came in contact with one of the angels' wings, shattering. Glass sprayed everywhere, along with the wine that had still been inside. The red liquid dripped down the stone making it look like the angels were bleeding.

"Fuck!" Crowley screamed.

He was angry, to put it nicely. He was angry at so many things, but primarily he was angry at himself. He was angry that he had fallen in love with an angel.

Crowley had always loved Aziraphale, but it took him a while to figure it out. It's not like demons loved each other so how was Crowley to know the difference between romantic and platonic love? He had tried to make subtle moves in the past for sometimes it felt like Aziraphale loved him back.

He would gather up the courage to ask Aziraphale something ridiculous or maybe try to get closer to him only to be shut down by the angel. He wasn't really surprised by it, afterall, if Aziraphale did love him back he would follow the rules. Demons and angels don't love each other, so Aziraphale would make sure it stayed that way.

Crowley had always thought Aziraphale was a genius. He knew all these incredible bits of information and he always believed in himself. Imagine all the amazing things he could do if he just stopped playing by the book, even for a day.

Usually, Crowley could keep his feelings to himself. He could bottle them up and pretend they didn't exist. The problem with bottling things up, though, is that bottles eventually overfill and spill out. That's what was happening to Crowley.

It didn't take much to trigger that breaking point (it never does). Crowley had been enjoying a nice glass of wine and flipping through television channels when he had spotted a book left on his coffee table. Crowley doesn't read, he's made that very clear. Yet, for some reason, Aziraphale had insisted he read this book.

"Oh, Crowley! I really think you'll like it-"

"Angel, you know I don't read," Crowley interrupted.

"Crowley, please!" Aziraphale had begged, pushing the thick book towards Crowley. "It's isn't even a book! It's a short story!"

Crowley sighed and snatched the book from Aziraphale. "Doesn't look very short to me."

He eyed the title. 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle' it said.

"You don't have to read the whole thing. I've bookmarked one of the stories in there for you! It's called the Adventure of the Speckled band and it's about a snake!" Aziraphale grinned.

Crowley flipped open to the bookmarked place.

"It's only 12 pages! I really think you'll like it," Aziraphale said.

"Yeah yeah... I'll see if I have time," Crowley reluctantly agreed.

Just the sight of the book made Crowley think about the way Aziraphale's eyes had lit up and how his face had beamed. His teeth would be visible through his lips and his cheeks would dimple ever so slightly. It just reminded Crowley how much he loved Aziraphale.