Angels can sense love (and other virtues), while demons can sense lust (and other vices).
Early on, Crowley can sense Aziraphale's little spikes of lust towards him, and he maybe thinks a time or two about tempting the angel into a serious sin, maybe even something worth falling over...? But he also genuinely likes Aziraphale, more and more each time they meet, and so he holds back. Gets him to try some human food and think a little independently from Heaven's company line. Calls it a win just to have someone to talk to, to have someone who understands even a little, and even more a win when he gets Aziraphale to relax and enjoy himself once in a while.
And then, of course, that sense of lustful, covetous desire coming from the angel wanes and eventually vanishes altogether. Oh, he still senses it occasionally, especially when it comes to acquiring a particularly rare manuscript. But it's never directed towards Crowley anymore, hasn't been for decades, maybe even centuries if he thinks about it.
It's not disappointing. Not really. He wouldn't want to tempt Aziraphale into anything that could actually be harmful to him, after all. Hasn't wanted to do that since sometime back in the Old Testament times, to be honest. It was just... nice? (Ugh.) To know he was wanted, at least in that way. And now that's gone, apparently, Aziraphale's physical desire for him having cooled as they've become friends over the millennia.
(He's still got it, though, if his success inspiring lust and envy in humans when a job requires it is anything to go by. Just can't inspire it anymore in the one being he'd be particularly interested in exploring it with...)
What a shock it is, then, when Aziraphale asks quite desperately one day, after they're finished with Heaven and Hell and their attempts to wipe the Earth from existence, if he can make love to Crowley -- but then also rushes to assure Crowley that it's alright if the answer is no! That what they have now is absolutely perfect! It's only that Crowley is so beautiful, and Aziraphale feels he's half gone out of his mind at times through the long centuries trying to ignore how distractingly much he simply wants to touch him, hold him, caress him... And now that they're here, together, and trying to be honest with each other, trying for open communication, Aziraphale doesn't want to keep this to himself any longer, wants it all out in the open and to know Crowley's thoughts on the matter so that he shall know how to act going forward. It's an excited, blundering, mess of a confession, ending on a stiff-upper-lip determination that most people think is so very English but don't know that Aziraphale actually invented it and that the Brits have just been following his lead all this time.
And Crowley has no idea how to respond, questions getting caught in his throat, tangled around his forked tongue. Because, what? What?!
He watches his angel's face start to crumble as he struggles, and finally his protests take shape: He could sense when Aziraphale stopped wanting him like that! It's been years and years and years! Without a single whiff of lust coming off Aziraphale when he looks at Crowley!
Which, Aziraphale replies, is simply not possible. Because, honestly, he's only come to desire Crowley more over the years: sensually and sexually, yes, but also as a friend and confidante, also romantically. Tenderly. He quite desires Crowley in every way it is possible to do, he thinks.
And really, Aziraphale goes on, feathers a little ruffled now, Crowley needn't pretend or make excuses -- if he doesn't want to be with Aziraphale in that way, he will absolutely respect that. There's no reason to pretend he can't sense how Aziraphale feels, just as Aziraphale has been able to feel Crowley's love for him growing, starting with those bits of affection and interest all the way back in Eden, through to the very purest, most all-encompassing love he's been able to sense from him these last few years, after everything.
But demons can't sense love, Crowley has to remind him a bit tetchily, only vices! Things that lead to sin and degradation and unhappiness! So it's not actually the same at all!
And then he watches Aziraphale make a pretty perfect Shocked Pikachu Face, not that the angel would understand the reference if he told him.
But Aziraphale starts to smile after a moment, even if his eyes are shining with tears at the same time, and the angel breathes that it's not a vice to wish to be close to someone whom you love, and whom you know loves you in return.
The penny drops.
Aziraphale never stopped wanting him -- he just also started loving Crowley at some point.
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One-shot Prompt
Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs
Ship: Soukoku
Prompt: “Come here. Sit with me.”
TW: none that I can think of.
A/N: Also posted on my ao3, the link is on my master list
It was a relatively slow day.
After everything with Fyodor and the Decay of Angels had settled, everyone had gotten a well-deserved few days off.
Their relationship had been slow to reach the point it was at now, what with Dazai’s disappearance from the Port Mafia and his 2-year absence before re-emerging in the Ada and then another 2 years before Chuuya and Dazai had actually run into each other.
What had been left of their relationship was smoldering coals. They still trusted each other, as Chuuya had hardly hesitated before using Corruption at Dazai’s request. But Dazai had treated Chuuya horribly, he had left without so much as a text explaining what he was doing. He had blown up his car.
He didn’t believe it was possible for someone as divine and beautiful as Chuuya to have any fraction of a good thought about him. Sure, he had patched up Dazai plenty of times when he was in the Port Mafia and he had stopped him from many attempts but it was only because he relied on Dazai to use Corruption,… right?
And yet, here he was, in Chuuya’s penthouse, with him, being taken care of. He and Chuuya had gotten closer, closer than they ever were. They had yet to put a label on it.
And while Dazai knew that it was only because of their clashing schedules, their different jobs. They worked on different sides now. Dazai knew that they simply hadn’t the time to truly talk about it. And then everything went to absolute shit with Fyodor and then they hardly had time to even relax on their own time.
But now everything was over. The dust had settled and they finally had time to talk and to sleep, to just be around each other. Chuuya was back to making sure Dazai ate three meals a day, even if his portions were small. But… they hadn’t talked about it yet.
Dazai tried to not let the sapling of doubt grow and bloom within, but his own self-deprecation was relentless in its ability to make him spiral in his thoughts. He was supposed to be relaxing but his brain couldn’t seem to shut itself up.
“Dazai?”
A voice snapped Dazai from his never-ending thoughts. The voice, Chuuya, his brain provided for him, sounded from the direction of the living room. Dazai was still sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. He had been doom-scrolling as his brain spiraled.
Deciding to finally stretch his legs, he stood up. He stretched until he heard his back pop, sighing as he dropped his shoulders, and relaxed. He sluggishly made his way toward the living room. The sleeves of the sweater he was wearing were rolled up to his elbows and his hands were in his pockets.
“Yes?” He stopped at the entrance of the living room, looking towards where Chuuya sat on the couch, the TV had some movie on that Dazai didn’t care to figure out.
Chuuya looked up towards Dazai, a small, pleasant smile adorned his face. “Come here. Sit with me.”
Dazai didn’t have the energy to whine about how the dog shouldn’t be the one giving out orders, the exhaustion showing itself as prominent bags under Dazai’s eyes, so he wordlessly listened. Walking languidly to the open spot next to Chuuya, who immediately brought his arm from the back of the couch to Dazai’s waist to pull him closer as soon as he was sat on the couch.
“So… you’ve been living with me for the last few months…” Chuuya trailed off as if he wasn’t sure how to continue or word his question.
Dazai stilled, though tried his best to hide it. So they were having that conversation. Had he done something over the last few months to annoy Chuuya to get him to kick him out? Of course, he had, what was he thinking? He couldn’t stop his destructive habit of annoying Chuuya till he retaliated, more often than not, physically and violently. He had done it when they first saw each other after 4 years. Surely Chuuya has realized how horrible Dazai is and is going to kick him out. He only wants to let him down gently…
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Chuuya felt Dazai tense under his arm. Though he hid it exceptionally well, as expected of an executive, even if he no longer is one. Chuuya’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have even noticed had he not had his arm around him and his trained eyes on him.
It was hard to tell what was going through his mind, and he doubted it was easy to understand even if he could see it all happening in front of him. He imagines it would be too fast to comprehend most of it.
But while he can’t read his mind word for word, he does know Dazai better than anyone else. He was the brawn to Soukoku and Dazai was the brain. They had to be able to read each other to some degree to function as one. So Chuuya had an inkling of an idea what Dazai was thinking.
It was probably something self-deprecating, and probably something Chuuya would find stupid.
Truly, Dazai was the smartest dumbass he knew. A genius who wouldn’t know affection if it slapped him in the face ten times,… or punched him perhaps a few too many times that he had lost count.
Chuuya pulled himself from his thoughts. He needed to relax Dazai so he could get it through his thick genius skull how much he loved the lanky man sitting next to him. He let his hand on Dazai’s waist rub nonsense shapes into his sweater in a comforting manner.
“Relax, it’s nothing bad.” He spoke in what he hoped was a comforting tone. It seemed to work as Dazai minutely relaxed into his side, though traces of his overthinking mind still lingered.
“You’ve lived with me for the past few months… and now that all the dumb shit with Fyodor is done and over with, I… I want to take a step further if you are ready, or if you even want to…” Chuuya trailed off awkwardly. They didn’t often voice their emotions or thoughts to each other, not really seeing the need for it as they were typically adept at reading each other. If they weren’t capable of at least that then they wouldn’t have ever been such terrifyingly great partners.
But at last, it seems that neither of them is knowledgeable enough on the topic of affection and love with how blind they are to each other's feelings towards them. At least… Chuuya hoped that was the emotion in Dazai’s eyes that he couldn’t seem to read. He hoped it was a mutual feeling of love.
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Dazai’s mind was attempting to process a million thoughts that were running miles in seconds. He was so caught up in them that he hardly realized what Chuuya had said, so terrified of being rejected before he even had the chance to confess. He had to backtrack his thoughts to process what Chuuya had said and when he did…
How… How did Chuuya not hate him? How can someone he treated so horribly, like nothing more than a dog not hate him? Him. How could anyone ever feel anything other than disgust and loathing when thinking of someone like Dazai?
He vaguely felt something wet on his face, but his mind paid no attention to it in lieu of overworking its ever-present self-deprecating thought process.
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Chuuya could see, and feel, as Dazai stilled in his arms once again.
And then, as Chuuya looked at his face with slight worry, he saw it.
Tears.
Chuuya can’t recall a time he’s ever seen or heard Dazai cry during their 7, almost 8, years of knowing each other. As an ignorant teenager, he believed that someone such as Dazai couldn’t cry, but he knew better than that now. Dazai was as much a human as anyone else, and therefore capable of crying, of being sad, of feeling.
Dazai’s body trembling slightly pulled him from his thoughts. He now reached to rearrange Dazai to face him on the couch. Though Dazai didn’t fight it, he didn’t seem to respond to the movement at all, completely lost in his endless thoughts.
Chuuya reached out his hand to Dazai’s face, cupping his cheek gently. Dazai made no reaction.
“Dazai? Hey, you alright?”
Dazai blinked and suddenly he seemed to be present once again. He looked up at Chuuya with glass eyes.
Chuuya offered a small smile. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Dazai responded, his tone flat as he looked at Chuuya.
Chuuya noted that Dazai probably wasn’t even aware he had cried.
“Dazai, you’re crying.” He let his thumb rub under Dazai’s left eye in a hopefully comforting way.
“Oh…” Dazai made no movement to wipe away the tears, rather, it seemed like the admittance of it brought down the last bit of Dazai’s barrier.
Dazai looked down and the tears once brimming his eyes fell down his face. Chuuya’s hand previously resting on Dazai’s cheek had moved down to the back of his neck when he looked down and now slightly tugged, prompting Dazai to cling to him.
Dazai’s voice was shaky when he spoke. “H-how…” His voice faltered but Chuuya let him work out his words.
“H-how could you possibly love me? Me? All I’ve ever done was treat you like shit…”
Chuuya sighed. He had a feeling that was the reason behind Dazai’s reaction.
“Yeah, you’ve treated me like shit plenty of times, as I have with you. But you also have saved my life so many times I’ve lost count. And you’ve reassured me I was human every time you noticed me doubting it, even if you often found a way to insult me while doing so. No matter how much we teased and annoyed each other when it came down to it, we had each other's backs. We have each other’s back. There’s no one I trust more than you.”
Dazai looked up at Chuuya in shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“There’s no one I love more than you, Osamu.”
Dazai clung to Chuuya, burying his face into the crook of Chuuya’s neck. Though Chuuya couldn’t see the tears cascading down Dazai’s face, he could feel them soak into his shirt and he could hear Dazai’s choked back sobs.
Between Dazai’s sobs, Chuuya just barely caught his choked-out words.
“I love you too, Chuuya.”
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