tramitem_log | The Holiday from Hell

Entry tags:

The Holiday from Hell

Who: Alec, Anthony, Ellie and Fell
What: Going on a house sitting holiday to ~~terrifying~~ jolly old England.
When: 09/20-09/30
Where: Across the Pond.

Alec squinted at the house as it rose on the horizon. He was tired and jet lagged from the plane. Tired and sore from the long ride over bumpy roads in a small cab, crowded against one window by Ellie who was smushed in the middle with Anthony on the other side. Fell, being the guest, took up the front seat and was probably cramping Anthony's legs all to pieces with how much room he left which Alec felt strangely justified in.

Anyway, that house held memories, both good and bad and, mostly terrifying, but he was oddly looking forward to it. After all, everything was a little bit frightening until you knew its secrets.

---
Info on Abaddon House and the environs

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"Now that's just cheating," he said, settling his things in the corner of the room and sitting primly on the edge of the bed, bouncing a little to test the spring and then smoothing a hand over the silky duvet. Oh, it was nice after the long flight and long taxi ride so rest somewhere comfortable and downright cozy, and the thread-count on the sheets must have been extraordinarily high.

"You would rather have spent the rest of the night trying to sort it all out?"

He certainly didn't. After the flight and... oh, that cramped Taxi ride from which his legs still felt a touch tingly he was ready to rest. His small carry on was dropped onto the dresser top while the larger suitcase was set down to rest beside it. He then flopped onto the bed himself, in a much less dignified manner... a bellyflop into the nearest pillow. Only after a deep inhale of fresh detergent cleaned linen and a yawn did he practically coil himself around Fell to continue their chat.

"Besides I promised you a holiday, can't have you cleaning the whole time."

"Well..." No, but. He still wondered if they were cheating. After all, Ellie and Alec didn't have fancy demonic powers, and it was hardly fair to go around changing the aunt's home's interior without permission. Even for their convenience. It wasn't like Aziraphale wanted to stay in a dusty old bedroom with a bed that would probably squeak something horrible if he and Anthony so much as entertained the thought of a cuddle... but...well. It was cheating.

Oh, well, they'd just have to change it back when they were done.

"I suppose not. Might cut into our time together. But Anthony," he gently chided, brushing his fingers through Anthony's coiffed hair. "Shoes off the bed, darling. Or else I will be cleaning the entire time."

Even if it was cheating, wasn't that a demon's prerogative? He felt not the slightest twinge of guilt over the redecoration but if he had seen the state of Ellie and Alec's rooms that would have changed. Such run down dusty accommodations weren't suitable for family.

Anthony grinned thoroughly contented as his hair was brushed aside, then frowned ever so slightly at his shoes which he bounced up and down a few times on the duvet. They were clean, he might have argued if they weren't covered with dust and cobwebs from having walked through the house earlier. A few more bounces and he settled on a solution to kick the shoes off his feet leaving only socks to lay upon the sheets.

"Socks are more cozy."

Long fingers uncoiled and reached up to brush against Aziraphale's cheek.

"Tired after the flight?"

If it was the demon's prerogative, it was the Angel's job to make sure he knew he was being very naughty in doing so. Can't have him getting away scot free without at least a little scolding. It might give him ideas.

He leaned into the touch with a sigh. "A little. I was thinking I might have a light snack before turning in. Maybe some tea." His touch trailed down to Anthony's hip, curling around his thigh and drawing him into a closer coil in. "She does have running water, I hope? I'm not going to be reduced to pumping it from a well?"

With that hand exploring down his leg he was getting ideas, less about tea and snacks and more about how much more enjoyable hiding from ghosts under the sheets would be with Aziraphale snuggled by his side. If a few things did go bump in the night how would they even notice!

"There is a well, out back and down the hill. It's been sealed off for years... something about a few missing heads having been thrown down into it once. It's probably not true."

He leaned in, teasing brushing his lips over his angel's, proposing a plan.

"Want to run downstairs to the kitchen, get the tea and then... tuck in for the night?"

Heads in the well? How appropriately thematic, as was the tree tapping spookily at their window. Almost seemed wrong to be bedding down for the night without properly exploring all the ridiculous lore that the house might enjoy. (Honestly, if the aunt were enterprising, she could turn this into a creepy B&B. Could probably make a killing, pun intended, off young people looking for a haunting experience.)

Looking through his lashes at Anthony, he tried to seem appropriately scandalized instead of as intrigued as he actually was. "My dear, I doubt there's much in the way of insolation in this drafty old house. The walls must be paper thin. We should be courteous." He contained himself with a prim smile, folding his hands in his lap, eyes mischievous. "No running, down the stairs or otherwise."

There were dozens of such creepy stories about the place, usually all having been told to him by his cousin on those dark and stormy nights that were tailor made for freaking out your relatives but there were a few history books in the library that he had stumbled across while doing school research on Victorians. This old house had a colorful history.

"So I'll agree to no running down the stairs."

He sat up and slipped back on his shoes, stealing a quick kiss before he stood up for the great migration to the teapot.

"The otherwise we can talk more about once the others are asleep."

He tried for a stern, scolding expression, but Anthony was much to charming to resist.

"Oh, you are an awful, wicked thing," he said, rising and straightening out the hem of his sweater before he reached for Anthony's hand. Not that he was against the idea, but Aziraphale was going to make Anthony discuss otherwise anyway because he enjoyed being slowly and intimately persuaded. "I'm sure we're going straight to Hell for even consid--Well, you know what I mean."

Some how Aziraphale's stern and scolding always came off as enticing and full of love. Those two emotions were always there just hidden under the surface of that veneer of disapproval. Its part of why it was so much fun to tease him!

Anthony shrugged and brought that offered hand up to kiss those skilled painter's fingers.

"If that's so then we are already damned... might as well enjoy it."

The door creaked horribly as it was opened, the makeover having made the room more pleasant but not having oiled the hinges. Likewise each step squeaked and groaned as they passed over it. There would be no making silent raids to the kitchen in the middle of the night.

The kitchen was as cobweb filled as the rest of the house but the teapot was absolutely immaculate. It and the matching silver service were always kept well polished and ready to brew a good tea... or whatever else old Autnie Broomsticks was feeling up to.

"I do have one burning question, I've always wondered... are you a right side of the bed person or a left?"

Well, he couldn't argue with that. He did so love enjoying things.

The whole house groaned and protested their trip to the kitchen, which Aziraphale thought was rather rude of it and if not for ambiance, he might have been more annoyed. Really. All that fuss for a trip to the kitchen?

It had been so long since he had a sleeping partner. Sleeping with someone and sleeping with someone were two very different things.

"That's your burning question?" he teased, settling beside Anthony as he worked. He fussed a bit unnecessarily over Anthony's collar or a tag that wasn't really showing but he could pretend was, just to have excuses to touch. "I wonder if I shouldn't answer, keep up the mystery a while longer."

"Ehh..."

Anthony bobbed his head, making it that much easier to see to any stray collar tags or to feel how soft his neck was.

"One question of many."

Even if he was filling the silver teapot with water it was so easy to lean into that touch, even to sway to Aziraphale's every small movement...

"And the only one that can be asked over tea. The others are definitely better left until later when those mysteries can be explored."

After a bit, he gave up any pretense, fingers tracing that sharp jawline, the taut lines of his neck and, when Anthony wasn't occupied with hot water, Aziraphale leaned up to kiss him on his cheek. He steadied himself with a hand low on Anthony's back and let it rest there as he watched Anthony work.

"Now you have me all kinds of curious."

Aziraphale never needed a pretense to begin with. His touch was the most welcome and desired one of all. When they were together it felt like time slowed to a comfortable stop but when he was away, hours felt like centuries that stretched on to countless eons...

It was silly, terribly sappy, doubtless unbefitting a demon and yet he found himself wondering if Aziraphale ever felt the same way. He leaned back into that cozy domestic moment of bliss, smiling broadly at the kiss, and he would have snaked his arm around the angel's waist in return if only the teapot hadn't taken that moment to come to a boil in his hands.

"More mysteries in need of exploring."

Great Auntie didn't believe in tea bags so he filled the tea infuser with one of her special blends of leaves. These were allowed to steep until the clear water grew that lovely amber color.

Pretense seemed important--and he had enough via memories to take a guess as to why now--but it was ridiculous in their current context. Alec and Ellie weren't going find anything wrong with Aziraphale snuggling up to his beau. It just always felt like he had to be careful loving Anthony in non-private spaces, as if someone might come and take that away from them if he wasn't a bit closeted about it.

Maybe that was why he had jumped on the chance to accompany Anthony on holiday while barely he knew the details... It was a holiday! One went on holiday with their beau. It was allowed! He had been on holidays with boyfriends in the past. He didn't need to construct excuses or pretense--and he feared if given the time to do so, he might have.

"Well, you're free to explore whatever you'd like." No casting out for questions, promise.

With the tea safely steeping in the infuser, he drew Anthony over, wrapping those long, slender arms around his waist as he leaned back into the countertop. Aziraphale cast a brief glance at the doorway, reminded himself he was allowed this, and then-- Oh. The lighting in the room was horrible; it highlighted lines of Anthony's face to betray his human age, made his hair look darker and less glowing, and yet? He was just so utterly beautiful. Aziraphale forgot in that moment that he'd intended to kiss him.

Fortunately he had been given free reign to explore whatever he liked. With Aziraphale so conveniently pressed back against the counter and his own arms tightly wound around his angel's waist the momentarily dreamy lapse could be easily corrected as Anthony himself went in for the kiss. Warm soft lips meeting over the worn wooden floors and heated eager hands searching out the hidden nooks of Aziraphale's spine was exploration of the best sort!

Anthony had much fewer memories about the need for pretense. Oh he knew he was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel and there was that necessary, yet silly, good vs. evil divide between them but he really only had that vague parting order to go by. 'Go up and cause some trouble.' That could have meant anything really. This was trouble! They were necking in his Great Aunts kitchen! Risking being turned into a newt or having a spirit sneak up on them! He was just that good that he could do evil without even trying!

Or maybe... he hadn't wanted to ruin anything by thinking beyond the now.

"Mmm, whatever I'd like?"

The tender kisses drifted from lips to cheek and turned into fluttering nibbles as he neared the lobe of the ear where he could breath a whispered warning.

"Are you sure?"

He tugged Anthony closer, enjoying the feeling of being pinned against the counter as he melted into the kiss. It was so much easier to excuse when Anthony initiated it. They shouldn't be doing this in here, but what was the point of being a little bit of a fallen angel dating a demon if you always did what you should. He'd learn to unlearn those other-life concerns. Pretense and propriety be damned.

"Yes," he said with a certainty that drew upon something instinctual he couldn't name.

He tipped his head until they were again nose to nose to add the playful caveat: "And, if I ask you to stop," he added, eyes sparkling with the cheeky self-assurance of a man who knew he had his beau wrapped around his little finger, and who was fairly sure it would never come to this besides, "I trust you to stop."

Trust could be a dangerous thing... as he was gradually recalling. Place it in the wrong person's hands and your entire life could change and almost never for the better. This was a tease and not meant to be taken too seriously but it still gave him pause as he stared deeply into those soulful trusting eyes.

"I would never do anything to hurt you. You do know that?"

The room gradually filled with the scent of warm tea, a strange heady brand that had a powerful floral undercurrent. It made him wonder just what sort of herbs had gone into that brew! And also if a demon could really make such a promise.

"Not in any serious way."

The teasing melted away into a gentle expression. He knew. He didn't know how he knew that Anthony would do nothing to hurt him if he could help it--would probably do everything in his power not to hurt him--but he knew. And perhaps that trust should concern him (sometimes it did), should be questioned, but this... He had never been more certain of anything, regardless of how little history they had in this life.

"I do."

He rested his cheek against Anthony's shoulder, embracing him cozily as the tea brewed. At those words, though, he leaned back and looked up with an almost straight face.

"But in a fun way?"

"Oh! Yeah!"

His answer was bold and enthusiastic, accompanied by a warm squeeze from the hug and a kiss on the nose... as fun was the feeling and both actions have given him a great deal of it. Aziraphale did have such an interesting nose whether there were a pair of speckles sitting on the end of it or not.

"Tons of fun! We can have fun all day every day and there would be no one around to tell us we can't."

For some indescribable reason that was a fear. Anthony put it down to Lilith and her poor reaction to Fell, the bitter overprotective sister blues. She would get over it!

Eventually!

"Speaking to that tea cakes or biscuits? Can't have a good tea without one or the other."

He gives an amused wrinkle of his nose at the kiss, though he'd object to his nose being called 'interesting' if he had known. Cute, on occasion, rather dull, most times. But hardly interesting. Hardly the captivating and pronounced Crowley nose.

In retrospect, he realized his tease had probably gotten its full intentions lost a little, but that was neither here nor there. Fun they would have, and no one need tell them otherwise. Sensing a hint of anxiety in those words, he ran a soothing hand up and down Anthony's sides, then drew his touch down Anthony's arms to take his hands. Such nice hands, with long, clever fingers capable of tinkling the ivories and coaxing life from the soil. He pressed a kiss to the knuckles of one of Anthony's hands.

"Both? Just for fun? Though...I'd hate to get crumbs in bed."

It only seemed an uninteresting sort of nose because Fell couldn't see it from this side. It wasn't too big, or too small, the nostrils didn't flare out like they were trying to inhale the world when he spoke and didn't it have the most attractive upturn just at the tip? But then having been staring lovingly at this face for centuries... every inch of it seemed delightful to him.

Any worries he might have been entertaining faded at the touch only to be banished entirely by the soft brush of lips. Even the crumbs. Why deny his Angel any of the pleasures of this world just because there might be a few crumbs!

"We could banish them in the morning?"

His fingers coiled around the hands still holding them as he ventured back in to steal another kiss.

"It is a holiday."

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The Holiday from Hell

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