“Get off your high horse you flash bastard and try it, fucks sake.”
Honestly, considering that Hastur, Ligur, and Beelzebub had tricked him into coming outside by telling him they wanted to show him a rare herb Crowley doesn't think that Hastur’s belligerent attitude is completely warranted. He also knows it's his own fault he's in this mess. Of fucking course when Ligur said rare herb, he meant pot. Crowley is the nerd that got excited about the prospect of an actual plant. Goddammit. Now he's going to have to get high for the first time, behind the school no less, or face Beelzebub’s wrath. He really didn’t need this today. They're reviewing for an exam in Astronomy and he would really, truly appreciate being in his right mind for that. And what will the Horticulture club think of him if he shows up after school high as a kite? Nothing good surely. And Aziraphale will judge him endlessly. Endlessly, no end in sight. But there's nothing to be done about it now except muddle through, so Crowley sighs and takes the joint from Hastur. And, of course, that's when the doors swing open.
“Like I was saying-What is the meaning of this? Anthony J. Crowley is that marijuana?! To my office! All of you!”
Well. It was good while it lasted. Crowley's luck has run out though so he supposes he’ll have to say one last goodbye to Aziraphale before his parents murder him out of existence and he spends the rest of eternity in hell for all of his sins. Which mostly consist of pretending to be worse than he is, but c’mon. It’s gotta count for something right? He's been carefully cultivating this Bad Boy Reputation since he accidentally gave a kid a bloody nose and Beelzebub decided he was the perfect kind of horrible person to hang out with before he could apologize. He probably shouldn't have rolled with it because now he's sitting in the chair across from the Principal being told that since it's his first offence he's not expelled, thank the lord his mom would freak, but he is suspended and there will be no second chances, “drugs are unacceptable,” and he had better keep his nose clean from now on because he’s on thin fucking ice. Maybe he's paraphrasing a little bit, but if he didn't make it more interesting he'd probably fall asleep listening to the man drone on and on and on and on...
The worst part of all of this is that Crawley can't really be assed to care. If this guy doesn't finish up his lecture soon he's going to miss lunch with Aziraphale. And as the suspension starts tomorrow and he can't imagine Zira’s parents are going to let him anywhere near him anytime soon he might not have many more chances to talk to him for a while. He really needs this to hurry up so he can get to Azirahale before his nosy ass older brother Gabriel tells him, as the Principal’s student assistant the bastard knows everything before everyone.
“Alright, you can go now. Lunch is starting and then I want you in your classes. Understood?”
Oh, thank fuck. “Yessir.”
He can just feel Gabriel’s judgy stare as he walks out so he makes sure to put a little extra pep in his step as a special ‘screw you’ to him, and by “pep” he means that honestly, he's not even sure how he's moving at this point. He’d freaked his parents out when he was younger so bad that his dad had thought he was a demon in the middle of the night and the next day his mom took him in to see his paediatrician only to find out that he has hypermobility. Crowley figures if you got it, flaunt it right? So since he apparently barely has joints he flaunts that. It freaks people out. He loves it. Anyways. Lunch. Telling Aziraphale. Dear Satan, that's going to go over well.
“Crowley! I've saved you a seat, you're a bit later than usual.”
“Thanks, Angel. Got held up a bit.”
Hopefully, he can at least eat before-
“Oh?” Aziraphale tilts his head to the side, “What happened, dear boy?”
Crowley turns to look at him and takes a deep breath. He holds it for a moment because he needs to prepare for the fussy boy’s reaction.
“I got suspended. For a week. And detention during free period for two weeks after that.”
Aziraphale gapes at him.
“Look, I was out back with Beelz and them and-”
“Oh of course you were-”
“Don't interrupt if you want to know what happened Angel!”
Crowley glares and Aziraphale blinks and grips his hands together.
“Of course, I'm sorry Crowley. I would like to know if you'd still like to tell me.”
Crowley sighs and sprawls across the bench they’re sitting on.
“Course I’ll tell you. And m’sorry for sssnapping at you,” Crowley looks down at the grass and tries not to blush after basically hissing his apology at Zira. He thought he had moved on from that speech impediment in the third grade. Apparently not.
Aziraphale beams at him all...all angelic like and radiant and he’s glad that they eat lunch outside where he can get away with wearing his sunglasses because he's pretty sure he's got actual heart eyes.
“Anyways...um...I was just on my way to class when Hastur’n Ligur came up and told me they had a special “herb” to show me an' I just. Completely forgot who I was talking to I guess so I went with them and they pulled out a joint and Beelzebub showed up and I couldn’t really say no in front of Beelzebub, could I? I mean, I tried to bullshit my way out of it but Hastur just called me a flash bastard and Beelz and Ligur were glaring so I had to do something. It didn’t really seem like a big deal at the time. Not ideal of course but, y’know,” Crowley shrugs helplessly at Azirphale and leans back, finished with his story.
“You...you got caught with marijuana because you thought Hastur and Ligur were going to show you an interesting plant? Anthony J-”
“Don't you dare Angel! You swore never to speak of that again!”
Aziraphale huffs and glares and blinks for a few moments before bursting into laughter.
Crowley groans and throws his head back. He should have known. His Angel is a stuffy, fussy, anxious little book nerd but he’s also a right bastard. Aziraphale can laugh all he wants but Crowley has to go home and face his mom and dad and their being “not mad, just disappointed. Now go to your room and don't come out until you’ve thought about how your actions affect the family unit and have written it in prose form.” Aziraphale gets to go home to his nice, upstanding parents who are so proud of their two straight-A, perfect attendance, never done drugs in their life-oh dark lord below no.
“Angel, your brother’s going to tell your parents and they're going to make you shun me! They've been looking for an excuse since I started wearing black skinny jeans freshmen year!”
Aziraphale's laughter stops abruptly and he looks at Crowley like he just hit him upside the head and set his homework on fire to the beat of satanic chanting, “Oh no.”
“Well...well you’re only out of school for a week. They might not let me go out for a bit after they find out but we’ll still get to talk to each other here.”
Crowley raises an eyebrow and frowns, “Gabriel.” is all he says in response.
“Oh dear. Yes. Yes, that's true. He’ll be watching and he won't hesitate to report back to them if they tell me not to speak to you and I do anyways.”
Crowley slumps and tosses the lasts bits of his sandwich to a squirrel that had been edging closer and closer to them for about ten minutes. He’d always known it was a miracle Zira talked to him at all. He's just, Crowley. And Aziraphale is perfect. And Aziraphale doesn't go against his parents. It was too good to be true. It couldn't last. He’ll just have to-
“Well, they can't really decide who I'm going to be friends with anymore can they? I'm not five after all. I’m old enough to decide who to associate myself with.”
Error 404. Page not found. Jesus-Satan-He’s going to short circuit. Aziraphale won't even wear jeans because his mother finds them “unsuitable” but he's going to tell his parents to screw off for Crowley? Oh wow. It's official. There's no one else for him. Crowley's in love. Now he just has to get the oblivious, angelic dork he’s bent head over hypermobile hip for to notice. This’ll be fun. A brand new adventure to start after he gets back from suspension.