middaeg | (catch-all)(closed) the days don't stop coming

Cute?

( he asks, incredulous, as the volume of his voice hitches upward. he feels a little like he can't breathe, offended and overwhelmed at the same time. his face even feels a little hot with an emotion he can't place. anger? shock? embarrassment?

he makes an angry gesture towards the ears on top of his head. )

You find any part of this to be cute?

( he wouldn't have expected crowley to call him cute in the first place, but this is ridiculous. the ears! he was calling the ears "cute"!

his tail flicks behind him, irritated. )

It's a compliment! What, you want me to tell you it's ugly or something instead?

[ That wouldn't help at all! ]

I'm just saying, it's --

[ You know what, sometimes better to quit while you're... not the absolute furthest behind you can be. He sighs, gives a faint growl of frustration under his breath. ]

You are impossible. Come on, are we cleaning all this up or not? If I bleed out and discorporate listening to you complain about compliments I'll be annoyed about it.

[ Honestly! ]

( it's amazing that crowley thought that any sort of compliment towards any of his new bodily changes would be even slightly appreciated by aziraphale. if he could, he would like to completely ignore that they were happening to him at all. otherwise he has to face the reality that they might be permanent and he's not ready for that yet.

or maybe. . . ever. might never be ready to accept the idea of pointed ears and a tail. like a cartoon character would have. )

I'd rather you say nothing at all about it, Crowley.

( outright.

then he's moving past crowley to start making his way towards the bathroom where they could finally take care of that nasty wound he'd left on him.

he already hated the sight of it. )

Yes, yes! Let's get you to the bathroom.

[ Oh, of course, because pretending they aren't there is obviously going to help. He sneers at Aziraphale's back, annoyed, but follows anyway.

He does, after all, want to stop bleeding. Equally, perhaps more so, he wants to know Aziraphale is okay. ]

And you.

[ Just a reminder, they're both in need of a bathroom cleanup. Not just him. ]

( the walk from his bedroom towards their shared bathroom feels like a long one. impossibly long, almost if he has to walk for ages. it's not that large of a space to cross, their cottage isn't particularly huge, but his legs feel wobbly and the glow of the light bulbs feel much too bright.

it just feels long to him. )

And me? What do you mean "and me"?

( opening the door, he waits by the threshold, gesturing crowley inside. )

You know what I mean. You need to let me look at it.

[ Or else they're just going to have a fight about it, which Crowley is perfectly willing to do. He walks over to the sink and takes his hand off his neck with a sigh, studying himself in the mirror and wincing slightly as he starts to run water. ]

I don't believe that's necessary.

( he says the word "need" far too confidently. there wasn't anything to look at. the only thing that needed to happen was that aziraphale needed to shower and change his clothes.

and possibly change the bedstuffs as well.

the bigger issue was crowley's wound. anything else felt like small potatoes in comparison. he frowns as he watches crowley inspect himself in the mirror, shoulders pulling inward guiltily. it looked so much worse in the light of the bathroom, the skin already colouring around the impression he'd left of his new teeth. it also invokes a very strange feeling of satisfaction in him, as if he'd successfully laid claim on what belonged to him, which aziraphale squashes immediately. he doesn't understand why he would ever have any sort of emotion like that and he doesn't want to find out. no, he reminds himself that he had done this to crowley, it was an extremely bad thing, and he needed to set it right.

but he also wanted to bolt. )

Why don't you take a seat?

( any bark he might have had in his voice has faded, washed out by concern and his own guilt. he gestures towards the shut toilet, hoping crowley won't protest about any of it. )

Only if you let me look at yours too. Fair trade.

[ He rinses his hands carefully, then frowning at them then back up at Aziraphale's reflection in the mirror. ]

Deal?

[ Maybe that'll be enough, the though that it's the only way he'll get to look at Crowley's injury. Maybe guilt will drive him into acceptance. Maybe he'll finally let him take a look at his... ears, which he isn't allowed to be nice about. Even if he does think they're... something. Something. ]

( oh, no. he doesn't want to do that. the both of them have already acknowledged his new features far too much for his liking already as it is. he doesn't want to talk about them, have them looked at, or anything else. they better off ignored until he could find a way to get rid of them. )

There's nothing to look at.

( he says, trying to be firm about it. )

But I can't say the same for you.

( so he gestures again for crowley to sit down. )

Nothing to look at?

[ Crowley turns, narrows his eyes at Aziraphale. ]

There's blood on your head Aziraphale, and you're saying you want me to ignore it?

[ Just to be clear. This is what he thinks is a reasonable course of action? ]

Yes. It's just—

( that is exactly what he wants. he wants crowley to ignore it. this wasn't like the last time something happened. there wasn't anything that he could do to fix or improve it. the only thing that could be done was for aziraphale to clean himself off, which he'll take care of as soon as he's wrapped up crowley's wound.

what was this mess in comparison?

he makes a dismissive hand with his hand. )

It's from all this moon business. It'll wash off.

[ It --

Crowley's eyes widen again, bewildered, and his tone rises in pitch to match. ]

It'll wash off? Oh, so the blood from my neck is a problem but I'm not allowed to touch yours because we have to pretend it doesn't exist?

[ There's a snap to his voice, now. He's on the edge. This is ridiculous. ]

Edited (repetition ) 2020-09-15 18:03 (UTC)

I don't understand why you're so intent on touching it!

( or why he couldn't leave it well enough alone. what was he even expecting to do here? did he think he could make aziraphale feel better about it? that he could make any part of it better? what use was there to address it? or tell him he found it cute?

more importantly, he called his own wound just "blood". was he mad? )

You cannot just call that—that on your neck "blood".

( it's an outright wound! )

Well you can't just call that on your head something to wash off!

[ So there! It's a two-way street Aziraphale, you can't have it all your way! No matter how much you might have, in fact, largely had it your way until now. This is different! ]

Either let me look or leave me to handle this.

I will do no such thing! I put it there, so I will help take care of it.

( very matter of factly.

anything else would just be outright unacceptable. and honestly, he didn't expect crowley to even have an easy time with it. he couldn't really see it, could he? he'd have to use the mirror while juggling everything else. sounds like a trial and a half. it was just in his best interest to let aziraphale take care of it for him! )

Just sit down!

[ His hands are on Aziraphale before he really thinks about it.

Hands with blood on them, from his neck. Hands which latch onto Aziraphale's already tattered nightshirt and drag him sharply forward. ]

Now you listened to me, we are going to look out for each other. You are going to let me look at your injuries, and I will let you look at mine. Either it happens willingly or I'm forcing you into the tub and turning the water on.

[ Like wrangling a... well, cat.

Funny that. ]

( this was infuriating.

the hands on his shirt, the smell of blood that is now all the more stronger with new proximity, and the stupid way that crowley seems to think that he is about to be cowed by forcefulness! did he think this would truly make him agree? he still didn't want to be looked at as some sort of curiosity!

his hands snap to crowley's forearms, the grip loose but present. )

I don't believe I put it as a question or a negotiation, Crowley! Your injury isn't comparable to what is happening to me! It needs to be looked at!

[ This is frustrating.

Crowley growls.

Aziraphale is, very likely, turning into a werewolf. There's nothing he can do about it. He's already got the ears and the tail. Apparently it's a painful process. It is, judging by other monsters he's seen here, going to be worse the next time the moon decides to be full. Based on the progression so far, it will likely be increasingly worse after that.

There's no way out of this. The only thing they have is each other, and Aziraphale is so deeply in some panic state of denial he won't even let Crowley help.

His neck hurts, and he's angry but he's also frightened. It's all falling apart here, and Crowley has always been firmly of the belief that with enough effort he can always make it through the worst of situations. He has no idea how to make it through this. ]

I know it does, but I can't just sit back and not do anything! Not anymore than you can, not when I know you've been in pain!

[ It comes out in a hiss, between clenched teeth, and Crowley breathes hard a moment -- expression dancing through emotions. His eyes narrow, brow furrowed even as he grip loosens. Even as he leans forward enough to rest his forehead against Aziraphale's shoulder. ]

Please, angel.

( aziraphale still wants to hold onto all of his anger and his frustration, clutch it as tight as a diamond so he doesn't have to think about much else. he wants to, he wants to, but it starts to bleed right out of him without his permission as soon as crowley's face comes to press against him.

suddenly, he just feels tired and anxious. )

I—

( he starts, struggling to find the words. he nearly thinks to tell him that any pain he had previously had had disappeared after he had bitten him, but he doesn't think that would be a good idea. better to keep that particular slice of information to himself.

his fingers loosen around crowley's arms, falling away. he pauses for a breath, considering, before moving to wrap his arms around crowley in a loose embrace. )

Alright then. I'll let you look.

[ Great.

Good.

Crowley leans into the touch a moment, letting his weight press into the warmth of Aziraphale's body, then he draws back -- moves to sit down finally.

He was asked to sit. He'll do it now, since they've managed to agree at last. ]

Go on, then, take a look at me.

[ Tell him how bad the damage is. ]

( it would have been fine if crowley had wanted to linger for a little longer. actually, aziraphale would have preferred that he did, but he supposes that this is the more correct course of action.

no sense in dawdling any longer after all.

the next step is to open up the cabinet doors underneath the sink to retrieve the first aid kit that been stashed there beside the cleaning supplies. he had originally thought it would come in handy for a very different reason than this and yet now was the first time he was opening it. for crowley's sake. for a wound he'd put on him. he feels a little queasy at the thought.

placing it on the floor by crowley's feet, he then moves to finally properly inspect the wound left on crowley's shoulder. he's already seen it a little, but not underneath proper lighting and without having his face nearly mashed against it. he tugs at crowley's collar, pulling it aside for a better view.

it's. . . it's bad. not horrible. not as gruesome as it could be, but still bad nonetheless.

his face scrunches up. )

We ought to take you to someone first thing in the morning. It looks like it'll scar.

( his voice trembles, unable to keep the concern out of it.

he'd like to take him now, but it's too late for that. possibly too dangerous as well. all he could do for the moment was clean it and bandage it up. )

Yeah? Never had a proper scar before.

[ He lifts a hand and gently rests is on Aziraphale's arm, squeezes it in reassurance. ]

Think scars are meant to be cool now. Might be a good look.

[ Is that reassuring? He's not sure, but he's trying. He's trying.

It's true, anyway. Scars are meant to be cool. That, and... well. If it's Aziraphale that's given it to him, he doesn't mind. ]

( oh, that is certainly not helping.

aziraphale does at least understand the intent and that crowley is trying to lighten up the situation, but there was probably nothing that he could say that would stop aziraphale from feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin. without any anger to blur the feeling, it's all that he can think about. )

Let's not make it a first then!

( please.

he lets out a sigh as he turns away to repick up the kit he had placed on the floor. he lifts it up to set it against the sink, immediately rifling through it to find what he needs. he hadn't treated any human wounds in a number of years, but he imagines he still remembers the gist of it.

applying some alcohol to gauze, he looks back at crowley again. )

This is going to hurt as well.

( since he was effectively human and all. )

[ It is going to hurt, and Crowley is going to complain about it, but in reality he'd much rather it hurt than die.

It doesn't stop him flinching, however, when the alcohol is touched to his neck.

He hisses, hand snapping out to latch onto Aziraphale's arm again and squeezing it. ]

Bedside manner could use some work.

[ He's just saying. ]

( more than just saying. the remark gives aziraphale some pause, immediately reconsidering the way he's going about this. he's rushing it, isn't he? he's so eager to just go ahead and get this done before any more time passes because he's so afraid of what may happen or that crowley might reconsider that he isn't minding himself.

that didn't mean he needed to be rough about it. he should probably be a little more gentle with crowley. )

I'm sorry. Please bear with it.

( for just a little longer as he presses the gauze against the wound, trying to let the alcohol soak in. he tosses it shortly afterwards, dropping it into the wastebin, before applying some ointment. new gauze is placed on top of it and then taped over to keep it in place. it should be enough until tomorrow morning.

hopefully. ideally.

he lets his hand fall to crowley's hair afterwards, softly petting through the red strands in hopes of comforting him. )

I'll go with you tomorrow to have you looked at.

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