Anthony J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onlyanapple) wrote2015-02-05 09:15 pm
onlyanapple) wrote2015-02-05 09:15 pm
IC CONTACT - DRIFT FLEET
Hi, this is Anthony Crowley. Uh, I’m probably not in right now, or asleep, and busy, or something, but leave a message after the tone and I’ll get right back to you. Ciao. BeeeEEeeeEEeee.
[Voice][Text][Action]
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cawaii
 "un/finished")
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[He shifts closer, settling against the weight and heat and draping an arm across the demon's chest in a way that's almost shy. Because he doesn't do this, usually - not without the detachment of post-coital bliss or the fog of alcohol lulling him into apathy. There's nothing between them now to help him pretend, and without that wall the events of the month prior are etched very clearly into his mind.]
I'm glad I'm here. [He says it softly, half muffled into Crowley's shoulder]
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...But Felix hasn't left him. It had been the other way around. And Felix had followed him (albiet thanks to Atroma) to this place. More to the point, Felix had remembered him. He didn't have to feel the pain of knowing someone so well and have them look at him as if he were a stranger with Felix. Everything was still there. Crowley knows hope is a dangerous thing, especially where he's concerned. Yet hope he does.
The fear is still there, though. He cannot do this again. Lay everything down and have it torn away. Rebuild himself all over again. ...But. He considers some blithe remark, keep that distance. It would be wiser. But...he doesn't. He can't. ]
...Yeah. Me too.
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He can't say what it is that he wants. Neither of them can promise anything, that's something they both know from experience. They can't promise permanency, because both of them have suffered the coming of people they loved, only to have them leave with a piece of their hearts in tow. Crowley, however, was one of those pieces for him.
What he's reaching for, he still isn't sure, and the uncertainty is a cold grip on his heart. He lets those words sink in for a minute that seems painfully long, shivering not just from the lingering chill, and curls his arm against Crowley's ribs.]
I spent years asking myself when I would get to go home. Missing it. But when I came here instead...going back doesn't seem quite so urgent.
[It's still implication at this point, that Crowley is part of the reason for that. Innocuous conversation except for the fact that he still isn't looking Crowley in the eyes.]
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After a while, he lets out a soft hum.]
Can't say I was all that keen to go home in the first place.
[Aziraphale is there, and Crowley misses him desperately but the wrath of Hell is ALSO there. ]
But I have far more here than I do there.
[And Felix is definitely a part of that. A very big part. ]
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I was exiled...before I arrived at the castle.
[Meaning, you know, he wasn't looking forward to his future either.
And that was just the thing, wasn't it? Because what was the point of living if you couldn't enjoy the parts that mattered? Loss was inevitable in life. Things were finite. At least, for any human. As far as he knew Crowley was eternal, and maybe that should have bothered him, but it never had. The same way Crowley had seemed to see through him from the beginning and hadn't cared. In some cases, almost literally, as the nightmare from the previous month proved.]
Crowley...[He lifts his head a little so he can finally look at the demon]...about what you said to me...last month...
[He's talking mostly about what occurred in his own calibration; something he could have gone on ignoring but the need to know why is eating at him, as much as he needs to know if Crowley remembers it at all]
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[Then again, it was still HOME, wasn't it? Something tangible. Something real. Something familiar. Just...something.
Crowley stills, his brow furrowing. After a few moments of silence, he exhales, speaks again. ]
Do you mean the calibrations?
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He knows this is breaking their unspoken rule. Not talking about things. It's a status quo that has served them well for years and he's dancing on the edge of that. But he's also incredibly insecure under that lazy swagger, so while he considers backpedaling for about half a minute, he does the opposite.]
Yes. ['Worth a thousand of him', Crowley had said. Or something to that effect. He doesn't need that reiterated, and he suddenly realizes how it might seem like he might be fishing for some kind of declaration. Neither of them wants that.] Just...how have you always been so sure? About me?
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The simple answer is I can see people's souls. I know what sort of person someone is at a glance. Important part of the temptation process. Knowing how much good and evil is in the core of someone's being.
[But that's not what this is, and his mouth forms a thin line, his jaw clenching ]
The complicated answer is that I know you. We've known each other a long time. I learned exactly the sort of person you are and I stand by what I said. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you, even if it shaped you into who you are today. You deserved better than that. Than him.
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So did you.
[Than what God had done to Crowley, which is another of quite a few stories he only knows the pieces of. Enough to know where the wounds were, because while he couldn't see people the way the demon could, he always seemed to pinpoint the things that would hurt them the most. Especially in people he loved.
And there it was. The thought he'd been avoiding. The word he'd still never say out loud but the presence of which taunts him.
I'm...[Sorry. Another word he doesn't like to say. His hand clutches in the sheet, then flutters uncertainly at Crowley's shoulder. He isn't good at being comforting and afraid to acknowledge, for both their sake, that there's anything there to comfort at all.] I needed to be sure it wasn't Atroma showing me what I wanted to hear.
[Which is true enough, in part.]
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[He can't change his role in the universe. God made it that way. He's still bitter sometimes, but he knows he can't fix it. Just move forward. Be glad for what he has here, now. Away from home.
He turns his head in Felix's direction, serpentine eyes locking on him. There's no lazy smirk here, though. No idle brushing off of things that are unspoken, pretending they are obvious and don't need light shone on them. Because this time...it's important this isn't brushed under the rug.]
No. Atroma didn't put those words into my mouth. [A pause, a hesitation. ] Not then, not now.
[He's said it so few times, and he's honestly terrified of it now. It means a black mark. The beginning of the end. The opening fate needs to sweep in and take what's precious to him away. To remove any sense of happiness he has as soon as he admits it's there. He knows how this game goes and he doesn't want to lose it again. To go through all that heartbreak all over.
But the words come out anyway. Unbidden, unrestrained. It's the truth, and as real as the fear is, it's still not as great as Felix living here for however long, then leaving anyway - never hearing them. Never being aware of them. It may spell doom for the demon (that much he's sure, Paradisa taught him that lesson and taught it HARD) but it would be cruel to Felix to do anything else. If there's one thing Felix hasn't had enough of in his life, it's this.]
Because I do, you know. Love you.
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But he created this. He might have even wanted this, despite the pain. Because of the pain, maybe. Running away is always an option, and while it seems like half of him is ready to do just that - to get out of this room and go back to feigned, blissful ignorance - he doesn't. He holds on, his leg winding tighter around Crowley's as if afraid he might disappear at that very moment.]
Crowley...[It's the only thing he can reach right now, because he doesn't know what he can say. He doesn't know yet if he can return the favor but the truth that the demon is working on occurs to him too - he'd stayed his tongue so many times and even then he'd lost them. He still wasn't convinced that to say it wasn't to draw the ire of fate, but what about all the times he'd been left with regret? Was that worth the gamble?
All he can do to answer was to lean back down for a kiss. It's simple - just the simple pressure of lips without lust. Connection. The only need is the one to assure Crowley that he's been heard and that the only person he's angry at is himself. It's impossible, now, to hide the fact that he's crying, though he still manages that in relative silence. Another hard-won skill from his old life.]
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No going back now.
He doesn't say anything. Words would just seem...futile at this point. He does wrap his arms around Felix, though, pulling him in closer, one hand moving to soothe though his hair. He's not great at comfort, he'll admit it, but he's not opposed to trying, when it really matters. ]
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I do too..[It comes out a whisper a few minutes later. The closest he can get, but the meaning is clear. He refuses to let it slip away again without comment. Keeping silent had not saved Gideon. Nor Crowley, the first time around. Not again. Consequences be damned.]
[It finally occurs to him that the chill has gone. He's warm and comfortable, despite that lingering twist of anxiety that's settled between his shoulder blades and has nothing to do with his position and everything to do with the uncertainty of the future. He's half on top of Crowley at this point, and he makes no effort to shift and he drops his head to the pillow with a fragile sigh.]
What now?
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He surprises himself with the realisation that he doesn't even want to. He has no idea how to proceed. Whatever he tried before just ended badly. Was torn away from him. He doesn't know how to conquer that. To make this one last. Because, Someone, he wants it to last. To not take a single second of it for granted, because neither of them could tell when their time would be up.
He shifts a little, resting his chin on the top of Felix's head, closing his eyes. He's quiet for a moment, trying to think of a worthwhile answer. Something that could help them. A direction. In the end, he settles for the truth. It seems the right thing to do, in the situation.]
I have absolutely no idea.
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At least we're on the same page, there.
[It seemed like there should be some kind of direction to go after something like that. Something to label it and make sense of it, but nothing he called up really fit in the traditional sense. They'd been friends and lovers for years, without comment or barest hitch in their usual step. Boyfriend was a laughable modifier when applied to Crowley and almost makes him lose his composure the second it crosses his mind. Neither of them seemed particularly suited to traditional monogamy, either. It always ended up being that final wall between himself and those he loved. With Gideon, especially, but even Ashura. Even then.]
[Drawing in a shaky breath, he fumbled blindly under the blankets, tracing the line of the demon's arm until he could find his hand.] I don't want to be your shackles...
[He doesn't want to weight Crowley down. Doesn't want to hurt him. Doesn't want him to have to hold himself back because of a few words. He feels like something needs to change, but not if it involves sacrifice.]
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He has no idea how to proceed. How to make it so he doesn't lose Felix, too. Fate seems uninterested in his efforts thus far. Take it slow, they leave. Take it fast, they leave. He has to do this on hope alone, and it makes him feel vulnerable. It's an all too mortal feeling, and he doesn't like it one bit.
He squeezes Felix's hand gently, thumb tracing over the skin of his hand. ]
Wouldn't consider you that, anyway. It's not tying you down if it's something you want.
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That depends on your expectations. [He turns his head a little, afraid to break the contact, just enough to see Crowley's lips, though the perspective is blurred by his bad eye.]
You know what I am. [Not a question. The pejoratives float around in his mind at the mere mention.] I will probably disappoint you.
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And so, he lets out a long exhale. ]
Felix, I've known you for far too long to be disappointed in you. I'm not expecting anything, nor am I your shackles.
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Finally he does shift, moving his hand away to instead curl his arm over the demon's chest. He sits up just slightly, looking down at Crowley's face. His own is kind of a mess, but the following deserves the honesty.]
Let's not make promises, except for this. We both know that we have no control over how and when this will end, and when that happens...[He pauses, swallowing around knives]...there will be no regrets. No mourning.
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Can't promise the no mourning thing, you know me too well enough for that, Felix. But as for no regrets? I'm sure we can manage that, between us.
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Wishful thinking on my part. [He knows that's true. He couldn't have stopped himself from mourning, either.] But, yes, that part I can do. Starting now.
[Another kiss, this time, just a light one. This time to seal the agreement.] For now...I'm here.
[Whether that means the bed, the room, or something greater does seem to matter much in the scheme of things at the moment. Felix shifts once more, slipping more comfortably to lay on his side, moulded to the lines of Crowley's body as much as he possibly can. The strangest part is that he feels safer than he can ever remember, despite the tenuousness of everything. Maybe that was because he has little else left to hide.]
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[Just a little levity, something to show that though things have changed, they also...haven't. They are still them, and nothing can really change that.
He settles into the bed, into just lying here, comfortable, a weight off his shoulders. The dread is still there, but it's been made a little less. He can, at least for now, relax a little. His fingers move to thread absently through Felix's hair, an attempt at a comforting gesture. ]