Demontoberfest

[serpentinthegarden]

Who: Beetlejuice, Crowley, and anyone who wants to party demon-style. OTA
Where: The Third Ring
When: September 10th, Evening - Dawn
What: Demontoberfest
Warnings: PG13 - for demons and their antics

[Prompts in the comments. Make your own starters if you want. This Demontoberfest is a direct reaction to Eleven's much more Holy event.]

Comments

[serpentinthegarden]

Record-jockey! This was now not the 80s. That was a DJ and the tunes he was dishing out were all being magically created through some swishy-swashy wand slinging that Crowley couldn't even begin to understand.

Not that he could say any of that. The words had been taken when his hand was. Soft, the hands of a bookman's that have been carefully maintained in order to protect his precious pages, and warm, far warmer than he had ever dreamed it could have been.

"This isn't the sort of music you gavotte to, Angel."

With him. The music paled around them, suddenly feeling like it was the wrong pace. The tempo was too fast, the lyrics conveyed the wrong feeling. But his DJ did take requests and a snap of the fingers soon had a new song title sitting in front of the able record-jockey.

"You dance like this."

The hand holding his was given a little tug, pulling Aziraphale in close enough so that Crowley's other hand could rest snuggly upon the small of his back. The Waltz had never been something he had spent a great time learning but one could sway gently to the beat of the music, even risk leaning in nearer to his friend's ear... everyone was drunk by now anyway, no one would notice.

[temptationaccomplished]

Thousands of years, multitudes of universes and memories, kisses and much more--and simply being close to Crowley still left Aziraphale weak at the knees. He was drunk on the moment as Crowley led them away from their table to dance. The music could have been anything--even that ridiculous ukulele cacophony--and Aziraphale would have tolerated it to enjoy a dance with his demon.

But as the music shifted, he took note of a familiar vocalist. Ah, Queen. Of course.

He'd had plans to tell Crowley his feelings, eventually, but had gotten rather hung up on figuring out how best to court him. Crowley deserved a proper courtship, but it seemed the universe had ways of making things happen regardless of plans; he and Crowley had always circled each other like hopelessly enamored celestial bodies, drawn closer by their combined gravity. And here they were again, unable to keep from each other's orbit.

He welcomed being drawn in, all glowing smiles and no shyness, and cradled Crowley's shoulders in his own embrace as they swayed mostly, somewhat, in time with the music. His friend's breath was warm against his cheek, a wordless temptation he was fairly sure at first that Crowley didn't intend.

But the words of the song, which Aziraphale couldn't recall ever properly hearing before now, were undisputedly romantic, a plea by the singer for his love to look and see, to understand that everything they do takes the singer's breath away. In another lifetime he could have pretended he didn't hear--they were very good at that.

Don't leave me here all by myself
I get ever so lonely from time to time
I will find you
Anywhere you go, I'll be right behind you
Right until the ends of the earth

"I want you beside me, always."

[serpentinthegarden]

It was a trick of the dance, an illusion brought on by the heavy drinking, the dim mood lighting, and the yearning song. He had secretly hoped Aziraphale would take notice and wish to stay by his side as much as he wished to stay by his Angel's but it wasn't likely to happen. He couldn't say how he felt, truly he wasn't even sure his mouth could form the words, and Aziraphale had always had very good reasons for keeping his sinful self at wing's length.

The dance had made them both as giddy as the drink had, making them think the the wild impossible was actually possible. It was foolish. As foolish as picking that one song out of the dozens of Queen melodies he could have chosen! It was stupid! Some how his drink addled mind had picked the one song that left little doubt as to his true feelings.

And yet still, he stayed with the dance. Wanting to pretend for just that little bit longer that this was actually real.

"You're drunk Angel. Probably as drunk as I am."

Wasn't that all it was?

[temptationaccomplished]

"So?" Really, Crowley was ruining a perfectly lovely moment by reminding him he was drunk. If he'd wanted someone to police his good time, he would have invited Alec to play overbearing chaperone, or stayed at the party at the Temples. What did being drunk have to do with his undying affection for his demonic best friend? Some of their best times together went along with a glass of wine or a pint of mead. He pulled back to watch Crowley properly as they spoke. "I've been drunk plenty of times and it hasn't stopped us from having very honest conversations, I think. Dare I say sometimes blasphemly--" The word tied his tongue and he frowned and tried again, perturbed that it might be supporting Crowley's argument. "Blasphemously honest."

On both sides, really. They'd had their secrets, naturally they'd kept secrets, but they had also divulged entirely too much about their opinions, respective missions and head offices to be wholly kosher.

"Of course if you don't want me to say such things, I won't," he promised and gave a coy shrug. "At least not where you might hear."

[serpentinthegarden]

"I don't want you to say anything you'll regret... Something you will have to take back in the morning."

To be reminded tomorrow that he was a demon and Aziraphale was an angel, there would always be a dividing line between them. Or worse, that he had moved too fast, that his company needed to be withdrawn for a few centuries when in actuality he would give anything to hear Aziraphale say, 'I want you beside me, always' again. They had just graduated to friends, best friends, and nothing should compromise that!