Doing what. "Don't be daft," he said quietly and with little bite.
Of course none of this was true, he could say. The emotions, the memories, none of it existed. But painful ache for Anthony was undeniable--a binary celestial orbit, pulling and pushing within some gravitational trap, inescapable except by the collision of a strong enough outside force.
He placed a hand on Anthony's chest and knew if he pushed the man away now, that would be the end of it. Anthony would go home to 'settle' with the arrangement he had made for himself. Aziraphale could go mend things with Crowley and remain friends, and life would go on. As it should be.
You go too fast for me. For perhaps the first time since the memories began, the lost baggage of their plot was a boon. Whatever had stayed him from acting on his emotions in that moment was not here. Aziraphale had little to lose. Anthony, on the other hand...
And for that alone, he should say no. He could be brave and spare them both.
But then Anthony would never have been cast as the instigator of Original Sin if he were so easy to resist.
He slid his hand under the lapel of the coat and over the soft dark green uniform shirt. Anthony's skin was warm through it, a slow burn against his palm. Aziraphale met dark eyes, traced the contour of a sharp, familiar nose with his gaze, down to lips he had imagined kissing the pout from in a dark vintage car from another lifetime.
Every part of him wanted to know what this might felt like, and he had never been very good at denying himself the real pleasures of life. Aziraphale tightened the fabric under his hand into a fist and pushed himself into that last breath of space between them, sealing his damnation with a kiss.
no subject
Of course none of this was true, he could say. The emotions, the memories, none of it existed. But painful ache for Anthony was undeniable--a binary celestial orbit, pulling and pushing within some gravitational trap, inescapable except by the collision of a strong enough outside force.
He placed a hand on Anthony's chest and knew if he pushed the man away now, that would be the end of it. Anthony would go home to 'settle' with the arrangement he had made for himself. Aziraphale could go mend things with Crowley and remain friends, and life would go on. As it should be.
You go too fast for me. For perhaps the first time since the memories began, the lost baggage of their plot was a boon. Whatever had stayed him from acting on his emotions in that moment was not here. Aziraphale had little to lose. Anthony, on the other hand...
And for that alone, he should say no. He could be brave and spare them both.
But then Anthony would never have been cast as the instigator of Original Sin if he were so easy to resist.
He slid his hand under the lapel of the coat and over the soft dark green uniform shirt. Anthony's skin was warm through it, a slow burn against his palm. Aziraphale met dark eyes, traced the contour of a sharp, familiar nose with his gaze, down to lips he had imagined kissing the pout from in a dark vintage car from another lifetime.
Every part of him wanted to know what this might felt like, and he had never been very good at denying himself the real pleasures of life. Aziraphale tightened the fabric under his hand into a fist and pushed himself into that last breath of space between them, sealing his damnation with a kiss.