[Good Omens/Suits] The advocate's devil - part 2
Same as the last post.
“On my oooooooooown, pretending heeeeeee's beside meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...”, both Aziraphale and Mike sang, letters slurred and glued to one another, “aaaaaall aloooooone I walk with hiiiiim in the morniiiiiing...”
They hiccuped, and Aziraphale filled both their glassed.
“Oh, dear boy, it's absolutely dreadful!”, he lamented, gulping his seventh glass down. Mike wasn't even sure what he was drinking - it was alcohol, he knew that much, and it was enough. “How can you resist? How can you endure such torture?”
“I don't know!” Mike's voice was shrill and almost wet. “He's - he's - he's always so handsome! Dressed to perfection, almost never a hair out of place, how can he do it?! It's so unfair! And, and -”
“Oh, Crowley too has a great taste in clothing! Even if I don't personally like it - well, I do like it, but I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something similar - well, I can't die, but you catch my drift - as I was saying, he takes such great care of his body, his hair, and he's so -”
“Dreamy,” they said in unison.
“I just want him to bend me over the table and fuck the lights out of me. Is that much to ask? I don't think so! But he's so stupid!”
“Tell me about it,” groaned Aziraphale, “Once he rescued from the Bastille, and I was chained up - there were chains on my wrists, for heaven's sake! - and what did he do? He just - snapped his fingers! And the chains were gone! And nothing else happened! He paid for the crepes but that was it! How unbelievably thick he is!”
“Well, since you have known each for so long, have you ever talk to him?”
“Absolutely not. What about you?”
“I met him just a year ago. It's too early.”
“I rather think not! Human life is so brief, so fleeting and short! You must confess your feelings for him, Mike!”
“Well -“ he purposefully ignored how Aziraphale told him that he was so near his death, “oh, you know he's great with kids? We had - like, a month ago, Paula came with her daughter, this insanely cute little girl, blond as an angel, and Harvey is, like, all smiles, he has this damn big smile that lightens up his face and I want to kiss him so badly when he smiled - well, I want to kiss him even when he's all grouchy and grumpy, but when he's angry it's more like - I want him to slap me. Wherever he pleases.”
“Crowley is great with kids too, you know?” Aziraphale smiled, and a chocolate eclair miraculously appeared in his hand - and one on Mike's hand too, “he has such a soft spot for them, he says it's because they're little agents of chaos, but I know better, it's - he's just so nice, I want him to do things so lewd to me his bosses couldn't even think about them.”
“Oh, like what?”
“I can't tell you, Mike!”, Aziraphale gasped, outraged, “They're - oh no, I can't! It's too embarrassing.”
“You know what?”, said Mike, suddenly serious, “if your Crowley -”
“He's not mine!”
“Yet. Well, if someone's Crowley let us lose the case, I will convince Harvey to quit, and then, when we find a new job, I'll confess to him. I swear!”, he giggled at the end, because Aziraphale was red in the face with the effort of not laughing. “You're horrible! You're the horribler - horriblest - most horrible new friend I ever had!”
“Noooo, don't talk like that, Mike, I love you!”
“Liar liar pants on fire!”
They both started to laugh hysterically to tears.
“Are you,” managed to say Mike, “are you at least flirting with him?”
“Oh, all the time. Sometimes I pretend that a book is too high for me, even if he's just slightly taller than me. It makes him feel powerful. He has this - knight in shining armour complex, it's so cute. You should do that too. Let him feeling more powerful than you.”
“We have - we have - what's the word? That long thing with like things on it to reach for things too high...”
“A ladder?”
“Yes, but in American?”
“I don't know, dear, I'm not American”
“Well, yes, we have ladders for that, I can't pretend shit.”
“I have ladders too but he doesn't care.”
“You know what I should do instead? A blowjob. Invite him to the cinema and suck him right there. I'm great at sucking dicks. Years of experience.”
“And they say that romance is dead. But I think you're right, dear boy. You should take the matter in hand. Or mouth. Wherever you want to take anything.”
“You should, like, stop talking, y'know?”
“I ought to. But - but you know what? When he comes back, I'm taking action too. I'll kiss him. On the cheek. That's right, on the cheek!”
“Dude, are you from, like, a Jane Austen novel?”
“No, but she wrote a character based on me. Do you know - do you want knowing - do you want to know who?”
“Oh, yes, but first another drink.”
“Right away!”
They kept on talking and drinking and drinking and talking until Crowley came back.
“What happened here?”, he asked, surprised to find Aziraphale slouched on the floor and a human on the couch. Aziraphale arose the second he heard his voice, instantly sober.
“My dear boy!”, he chirped, and hugged him without thinking. Crowley squawked, rather indignantly. “We missed you so, yesterday. You would have been such a brilliant company to our duo. Isn't it right, Mike?”, he asked in a sing-song voice, while Mike groaned.
“Angel, did you let him drink as much as you?”
“Of course not! He drank half of what I drank.”
“Angel!”, Crowley groaned, “It's still too much for a human. You have to sober him up right now, or it will be really unpleasant for him later.”
“Oh, you're right dear.”
Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and Mike felt immediately better.
“You Mike Ross, innit?”, asked Crowley, Aziraphale's arm still linked to his. “Your boyfriend's waiting for you.”
As soon as Mike was up, Crowley told the spell, and back he was, right on Harvey's couch.
“... what a night.”
“Indeed.”
They went to court and lost and they were so fucking happy about it they went out to celebrate. And, while they were eating sushi to their hearts' content, Mike received an email, an offer from one Jessica Pearson, as two of the lawyers at her firm suddenly quitted. At the other side of the world, Aziraphale was smiling.
“On my oooooooooown, pretending heeeeeee's beside meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...”, both Aziraphale and Mike sang, letters slurred and glued to one another, “aaaaaall aloooooone I walk with hiiiiim in the morniiiiiing...”
They hiccuped, and Aziraphale filled both their glassed.
“Oh, dear boy, it's absolutely dreadful!”, he lamented, gulping his seventh glass down. Mike wasn't even sure what he was drinking - it was alcohol, he knew that much, and it was enough. “How can you resist? How can you endure such torture?”
“I don't know!” Mike's voice was shrill and almost wet. “He's - he's - he's always so handsome! Dressed to perfection, almost never a hair out of place, how can he do it?! It's so unfair! And, and -”
“Oh, Crowley too has a great taste in clothing! Even if I don't personally like it - well, I do like it, but I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something similar - well, I can't die, but you catch my drift - as I was saying, he takes such great care of his body, his hair, and he's so -”
“Dreamy,” they said in unison.
“I just want him to bend me over the table and fuck the lights out of me. Is that much to ask? I don't think so! But he's so stupid!”
“Tell me about it,” groaned Aziraphale, “Once he rescued from the Bastille, and I was chained up - there were chains on my wrists, for heaven's sake! - and what did he do? He just - snapped his fingers! And the chains were gone! And nothing else happened! He paid for the crepes but that was it! How unbelievably thick he is!”
“Well, since you have known each for so long, have you ever talk to him?”
“Absolutely not. What about you?”
“I met him just a year ago. It's too early.”
“I rather think not! Human life is so brief, so fleeting and short! You must confess your feelings for him, Mike!”
“Well -“ he purposefully ignored how Aziraphale told him that he was so near his death, “oh, you know he's great with kids? We had - like, a month ago, Paula came with her daughter, this insanely cute little girl, blond as an angel, and Harvey is, like, all smiles, he has this damn big smile that lightens up his face and I want to kiss him so badly when he smiled - well, I want to kiss him even when he's all grouchy and grumpy, but when he's angry it's more like - I want him to slap me. Wherever he pleases.”
“Crowley is great with kids too, you know?” Aziraphale smiled, and a chocolate eclair miraculously appeared in his hand - and one on Mike's hand too, “he has such a soft spot for them, he says it's because they're little agents of chaos, but I know better, it's - he's just so nice, I want him to do things so lewd to me his bosses couldn't even think about them.”
“Oh, like what?”
“I can't tell you, Mike!”, Aziraphale gasped, outraged, “They're - oh no, I can't! It's too embarrassing.”
“You know what?”, said Mike, suddenly serious, “if your Crowley -”
“He's not mine!”
“Yet. Well, if someone's Crowley let us lose the case, I will convince Harvey to quit, and then, when we find a new job, I'll confess to him. I swear!”, he giggled at the end, because Aziraphale was red in the face with the effort of not laughing. “You're horrible! You're the horribler - horriblest - most horrible new friend I ever had!”
“Noooo, don't talk like that, Mike, I love you!”
“Liar liar pants on fire!”
They both started to laugh hysterically to tears.
“Are you,” managed to say Mike, “are you at least flirting with him?”
“Oh, all the time. Sometimes I pretend that a book is too high for me, even if he's just slightly taller than me. It makes him feel powerful. He has this - knight in shining armour complex, it's so cute. You should do that too. Let him feeling more powerful than you.”
“We have - we have - what's the word? That long thing with like things on it to reach for things too high...”
“A ladder?”
“Yes, but in American?”
“I don't know, dear, I'm not American”
“Well, yes, we have ladders for that, I can't pretend shit.”
“I have ladders too but he doesn't care.”
“You know what I should do instead? A blowjob. Invite him to the cinema and suck him right there. I'm great at sucking dicks. Years of experience.”
“And they say that romance is dead. But I think you're right, dear boy. You should take the matter in hand. Or mouth. Wherever you want to take anything.”
“You should, like, stop talking, y'know?”
“I ought to. But - but you know what? When he comes back, I'm taking action too. I'll kiss him. On the cheek. That's right, on the cheek!”
“Dude, are you from, like, a Jane Austen novel?”
“No, but she wrote a character based on me. Do you know - do you want knowing - do you want to know who?”
“Oh, yes, but first another drink.”
“Right away!”
They kept on talking and drinking and drinking and talking until Crowley came back.
“What happened here?”, he asked, surprised to find Aziraphale slouched on the floor and a human on the couch. Aziraphale arose the second he heard his voice, instantly sober.
“My dear boy!”, he chirped, and hugged him without thinking. Crowley squawked, rather indignantly. “We missed you so, yesterday. You would have been such a brilliant company to our duo. Isn't it right, Mike?”, he asked in a sing-song voice, while Mike groaned.
“Angel, did you let him drink as much as you?”
“Of course not! He drank half of what I drank.”
“Angel!”, Crowley groaned, “It's still too much for a human. You have to sober him up right now, or it will be really unpleasant for him later.”
“Oh, you're right dear.”
Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and Mike felt immediately better.
“You Mike Ross, innit?”, asked Crowley, Aziraphale's arm still linked to his. “Your boyfriend's waiting for you.”
As soon as Mike was up, Crowley told the spell, and back he was, right on Harvey's couch.
“... what a night.”
“Indeed.”
They went to court and lost and they were so fucking happy about it they went out to celebrate. And, while they were eating sushi to their hearts' content, Mike received an email, an offer from one Jessica Pearson, as two of the lawyers at her firm suddenly quitted. At the other side of the world, Aziraphale was smiling.