don't you want somebody to love? [closed]

[johnny_truant]

It feels like ages since that one really awkward time he walked in on Gabe and Peter getting drunk, or rather being drunk, but he hasn't forgotten about it. Gabe was fucking adorable. It's made Johnny question several times why they've never gotten drunk together, and he knows it's partly just that it must take Gabe so long to actually get to that level, but that's no reason not to try it. It seems like it would be fun. He could use fun. He gets the feeling they both could.

Which is why, Saturday night when they're on the couch - he's resting his head on Gabe's lap, Yarrow's on his chest, Scout's nestled in between Gabe and the couch's armrest - he looks up, ignoring whatever the hell they've been half-watching, and says, "Hey, so, since you can make whatever you want now, can you make us some liquor? Like enough to get fucked up on?"

It's a random question, potentially a troubling one, so he sits up, picking Yarrow up and resettling him in his lap. "I just feel like getting drunk," he says, "for fun. With you. How come we've never gotten drunk together? Let's do that."

Super fucking romantic.

Confession [closed]

[bibliophale]

He's sunk very low, he thinks, since he came here. He hasn't really given himself time to think about it properly, keeping himself busy, pretending everything is fine as he has always done, but tonight, inebriation has brought an unusual clarity. His conversation with Gabriel helped but did not heal. He has to tell Crowley what's happened.

He feels truly destitute for the first time since that awful month before the Rift took him, when he was alone, no idea where Crowley had gone. He's standing in the park in the small hours of the morning, hidden in one of the many dark spots of the Ramble, fussing angrily with his phone. Bloody thing. He has half a mind to throw it into the woods. When he's finally made it clear to Crowley where he is, or clear enough anyway, he pockets it and stands staring into the dark.

Crowley will likely scold him for making him come out here over something so inconsequential - it is inconsequential, he tells himself - but he doesn't care. He doesn't sober himself up, either. It will make this easier, if not more pleasant. It feels like he's about to deal drugs. Or something else, equally clandestine - isn't that what this area used to be for? He can't help but chuckle a little at that. Imagine them, meeting in the park like this, like-

Well. Like they used to do. More or less.

He sighs, takes his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose, and then looks up, replacing them, when he feels Crowley appear nearby.

Eviction [closed]

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale arrives at his shop on the morning of the 4th, only some hours after meeting Crowley in the park, after meeting Gabriel at the diner, after his difficult discussion with Melanie, after that dream, and finds Illyria sitting in the back just as he'd left her. All that had gone on and she'd just been here, contemplating space. Right. His mind's been made up. It was a trying night for many, many reasons, but he's refreshed now, and he's ready to finally face this unfaced problem.

"It's time for you to move out," he tells her sternly. "Come on now. We're getting you a proper place to stay. Can't have you in here all the time. Up you get."

He will suffer no further God-Kings. He'll put her somewhere close by, where he can keep an eye out - he's still concerned about Winifred Burkle showing up again, for instance - but his shop will go back to being his, thanks very much.