bakerstreet | An old-fashioned loverboy

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An old-fashioned loverboy

Courting

It's getting pretty serious, cop to it or not. You want to snag this person for your new best gal/guy, but you're in an old-fashioned world. Or you've got an old-fashioned mind stuck in a modern world. Or it's possible you just like the classics.

Whatever the case, it's time to pull out the stops, bust out the flowers, and take your honey dancing. Or something.

Top level.
The characters who reply are going steady.
Yes, it's old school. Embrace it.
♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ This was all new to him.

Or, well, in a way it wasn't. He'd been in... an arrangement with Aziraphale for a very long time by now. And if we're talking about dating, then that wasn't really new for him, not exactly. He'd had several times over the centuries where the best way to accomplish a particular temptation was to court someone, though he'd usually tried his damnedest to find literally any other way around it.

It was mostly the two combined that was new, and of course the fact that this particular relationship wasn't just a farce meant to earn him brownie points with Downstairs. Not that very much had changed in their activities, aside from meeting for lunch much more regularly and, well, being open about how they feel.

Gross.

Nice, but gross.

Mostly just nice.

So he'd yelled at some of his plants enough for them to flower, then made a nice little bouquet to bring to the bookshop, and now here he is, entering the bookshop and feeling a little like maybe he's gone overboard, does Aziraphale even like plants? Sure he'd done the whole gardener thing for a while but that was mostly just to piss Crowley off. ]

[Aziraphale isn't all too pleased with the open-ness either, but --well, they hardly had anything better to do, right? Heaven and Hell were, to all appearances, ignoring their existence, and they couldn't just go back to how things had been.

Of course he likes plants, he likes all creatures great and small, et cetera. In theory. When they're not going to get pollen and potential bugs all over his books, thank you very much. But he'll put them in the kitchen or something, somewhere away from the Wilde first editions.]

Oh! Hello, dear.

[ Bold of you to assume any of Crowley's plants would ever DARE to get pollen anywhere. And the assumption they have bugs is downright insulting, to be honest.

He leans in and gives Aziraphale a kiss on the cheek. One thing he is quite pleased with about the new situation is how it's perfectly alright for him to give into any and all urges to kiss his Angel. Maybe they should've averted the apocalypse decades ago if it meant he could do that. Not that there was any apocalypse to avert back then, but you get the idea. ]

Good morning, Angel.

[ it is 3:25 PM. ]

[Well, how is he to know they're Crowley's personal babies? He could have picked them up from a shop, for all he knew.

He raises an eyebrow, regardless, blithely pretending like he didn't go slightly pink at that kiss.]

'Morning', dear boy? When was the last time you looked at that watch of yours?

[ A SHOP? Why would he get flowers from some ruddy old shop when his own plants are the best possible choice for his angel? Honestly, the nerve to even suggest such a thing. ]

Just because it isn't morning here doesn't mean it isn't morning somewhere. Perhaps I'm planning on surprising you with a vacation. [ a pause ] To clarify, I wasn't, I was going to ask if you'd like to join me for a meal, but now that I'm thinking about it, it has been a while since we've last been out of the country.

It has. [He purses his lips thoughtfully.] Where were you thinking, if we did? France? Japan? I haven't anything in mind, but I do like the thought.