shipping | psl

Crowley already finds his mind swimming with questions and he pipes up quite enthusiastically, giving Aziraphale's hand a squeeze.

"Are there long engagements? Or medium engagements? If there are, which do you prefer? ...And what's a restaurant? Is that your words for a hunting party?"

Because Crowley has never really eaten food he hasn't had to catch or scavenge before.

"There are long engagements, and medium engagements. It just means how long until we're married. I'd like to do it quickly. Do you?"

He looks at Crowley curiously. He wouldn't mind a long engagement, so long as Crowley was there waiting for him at the proverbial and literal altar.

"And a restaurant is a place we can go to purchase food that someone else will make and cook for us. I suppose there's no raw food, not really..."

Crowley ponders this question. He certainly wants to be with Aziraphale, there's no question there, but he's not sure how much engagements and marriage differ from courtship and pairing.

"I think so. Prospective pairs usually court for a few months, spending time in each other's dens, living, working, hunting, eating, and helping others to raise hatchlings together. Is that how engagements work...?"

"No, that sounds much better than our engagements. We only see each other during the day time, and only sometimes. I'd rather see if we can live and work together, and help raise young." He takes Crowley's hand and slings it around his shoulders.

"And I haven't seen your den. I was thinking, perhaps when we get in the water, I could borrow your necklace? Then we'd only need the one. And I could spend time with you."

Crowley holds him close, looking rather scandalized.

"What's - what's even the point of an engagement if you don't spend time together? How do you know it's not just instincts and the like? I mean, marriage is like pairing where it'd be us, for life, right?"

He wonders if he'd missed something, or it had gotten lost in translation. He truly hopes so, because engagement sounds almost pointless to him.

"Yes! We would be pairing for life," he says. "I don't know, I think we just assume that things would go well, as soon as we're reasonably sure that we'd be good partners for each other. A good match."

He thinks for a second and says, "well I know that you're very caring. And beautiful, and clever, and you can provide for me." He smiles up at Crowley. "I know that you're a good kisser."

He gets up on his toes and steals one, just to prove his point.

Crowley tilts his head so their lips slot comfortably together. Oh, that does feel ever so lovely, and he does adore holding Aziraphale close.

But it's not enough to quell his passionate ramblings.

"And I know you are lovely, curious, generous, and soft and warm and very, very brave. But if we don't spend time together, how will we know what to do when we do things that get on each others nerves?"

He looks ever so indignant about the whole thing.

"Let's do a mix of both courtship and engagement - that way we can have the best of both, right? We can spend time together, learn about each other, but not cross the lines that need not be crossed."

"Yes, alright. Let's do a mix of the two things," Aziraphale agrees, and fondly combs his fingers through Crowley's hair. "Though we also have something called courtship. It happens before engagement, and during this time, we can't be alone. Then we decide if we'd like to marry, and get engaged, naturally."

Yes, very natural, that. "I don't think you'd like it much. Now come, we're burning daylight. Let's go for a swim while the cake cools."

He gives Crowley's curl a gentle tug, and tries to extricate himself from Crowley's embrace in order to make his way out of the tiny cottage.

Crowley looks genuinely horrified as Aziraphale extracts himself.

"People watch you courting? Why? What business is it of theirs?"

He follows behind unsteadily, his new legs still strange under him, and even stranger with the blanket tied around his middle. Eventually it's all too much and he winds up falling arse over teakettle. He sits up, spitting out sand.

At least it was a soft landing.

Aziraphale rushes back to help Crowley stand back up and tries to guide him into a walk. Crowley had been so patient teaching Aziraphale how to swim. He should be more careful with Crowley.

He has a soft touch, the way he places his arms underneath Crowley's arms and pulls him up. "Darling, perhaps we should have a walking lesson."

He brushes some sand off of Crowley's face, grinning into his hair.

"Might need a few of those, yep."

He gets to his feet, leaning a bit on Aziraphale, though not as much as his first time making the journey between sea and hut.

"Bit weird keeping track of an extra limb. Let's get you in the water first though. You can show me how walking's done on the way back."

"Oh alright. It's not that bad really, you just kind of have to swing your shoulders to and fro. Or your hips, if you'd prefer. But not too much. The legs kind of do the rest on their own."

At least, he hopes. He doesn't really know how the mechanics work for Crowley.

"We'll work on it."

He helps Crowley back into the water, dipping him in and then cupping water to lathe over him, wash the sand out of him.

Crowley lets Aziraphale wash away the sand, enjoying the cool, refreshing bath. Quite gradually, his legs fuse together, and extend, shifting back into his long and lovely tail. It's certainly an odd sensation, like stretching and relaxing only to find your spine has elongated. Still, he feels a bit more natural in the water like this, and extends his hands invitingly to Aziraphale.

"Come in, love, the water's lovely today."

And he couldn't even smell any potential troublemakers. Not that many came this close to land. The sirens the other day had been a complete fluke, blown off course and looking for an easy meal with Aziraphale.

He strides right in and reaches for Crowley, the current taking him into Crowley's arms as he gasps and grins up at him, feeling lots of very soft feelings at the moment. He runs his hands over where Crowley's thighs used to be, feeling only tail.

"You're beautiful," he says, because he doesn't know if he'll ever get over it and he doesn't know if Crowley will ever hear it enough from him. But it's true, he's gorgeous in his natural form and natural element. He's a dream.

Aziraphale dunks his head under the water and gasps again when he emerges. Oh, it's cold! He shivers the slightest, and holds onto Crowley.

"Alright, ready. I think."

Crowley shivers under Aziraphale's more deliberate touch, a happy sigh escaping his lips. He's rather glad for his arousal to be tucked away as it is - he's sure Aziraphale wouldn't really like it if he was displaying their entire lesson.

As Aziraphale gets his bearings, Crowley keeps him steady, pressing reassuring kisses onto his face and uttering gentle words of encouragement. He knows how frightening the ocean is, all the about the dreadful things that lurk in its depths. But he also knows where it's beautiful and fascinating, and he wants Aziraphale to be able to come into the water confident in himself.

"Alright," he says when Aziraphale announces he's ready, "we'll just work on posture and kicking first. I'll keep us up, and you'll kick us along to -" Crowley glances around, and spots a large rock a short distance away. He's sunned himself many times on that rock. It's a damn good rock in his opinion. "There. We'll get there. Now, keep your back and legs straight but not rigid. Like, uh, like - " he tries to think of something Aziraphale would be familiar with, and is rather hopeless. "-like something straight but bendy."

"Mm, like a bow? A branch?" he tries, holding onto Crowley and trusting him to keep them afloat as he tries to position himself. It's a little bit lewd, he thinks, being on his stomach with Crowley right there, trying different things to achieve the position he might be talking about which ultimately involves a lot of pushing his bum upward.

No, that is most definitely not what Crowley means!

Hopelessly, Aziraphale grabs onto Crowley's arm and tries to relax. Surely that would work, relaxing. Humans were meant to float, no? And babies could learn how to swim. He's definitely overthinking it, and he's definitely doing so at a detriment to this lesson.

"Maybe? Not really sure," he admits.

He lets Aziraphale adjust, find his equilibrium. He's too busy concentrating on keeping them afloat to pay any mind to any compromising position Aziraphale may twist himself into - and even if he wasn't, Aziraphale is learning. It's one thing to start springing a proud erection in the heat of gentle, tender intimacy, quite another when you're trying to help your beloved navigate the currents of the ocean.

When Aziraphale relaxes, Crowley holds him up in one arm in what is partially to keep him supported and another part to give him an encouraging hug. His other hand smooths down his spine, as though to try and straighten him and relax him.

"It's a bit how you walk, I think. Your posture at least. Keep your hips and ankles a bit looser, straighten your legs and slowly start to kick, alright? I have you, I won't let you go."

Aziraphale tries to hold this position, and Crowley is such a warm, solid presence underneath that he feels more relaxed. After a long breath, he starts to kick, and actually gains a little momentum. He makes a funny smile when he does this, surprised that it's working.

Of course, it helps that Crowley is doing most of the work and Aziraphale is just doing the kicking. He thinks probably little merfolk are born learning how to swim or they just die.

It's going to be a long lesson, but he is pleased for now. In fact, it does seem that he can get into a correct rhythm of kicking, so long as Crowley doesn't let go.

Crowley lights up when they start making some headway, and he guides Aziraphale along.

"You're doing great, just take it slowly, love. Let me know if you need a rest."

They are in deep water now - or at least water that would go above Aziraphale's head were he to try and stand, and about halfway to the rock. Crowley occasionally shifts about, either to correct Aziraphale's back or his legs, but never letting go, never letting Aziraphale sink below the surface.

Aziraphale starts to get more confident as he goes, and he feels himself swimming all the way to the rocks. Through his excitement, his form does falter a little bit, but he feels so safe in Crowley's arms. And soon enough, they're at the rock and Aziraphale holds onto Crowley in his surprise.

"Look!" he exclaims, slightly breathless. He's not very good at cardio, so he definitely needs the support. "My goodness."

Laughing, he steals a quick kiss. He would've never done this without Crowley, and he wouldn't have even been brave enough to try.

Crowley is a beacon of pride at Aziraphale, still holding him steady, though his grip slips momentarily when he's kissed. Quickly he scrabbles to gather Aziraphale back up before he can go under, holding him close and smiling into the curve of his neck.

"Look how far you've come in just an afternoon!"

He lifts his head, still grinning.

"Let's get you rested up, and then we'll move onto treading water, and then we'll swim back. How does that sound, love?"

"Oh yes, that sounds good," he says, smiling wide. He doesn't know if he can do much more than swim back, since he's a little tired. He knows his arms are going to hurt in the morning.

"And then I'll help you with your walk." And he does like the idea of being there to catch Crowley after watching his hips swish back and forth.

"How do I tread?" he asks, trying to walk as if this might help him float, but knowing that it's making him increasingly more tired.

Crowley's hands rest on Aziraphale's middle and he hoists him up onto the stone. It is, indeed, an excellent rock for sunning. With a smooth, flat slope, perfect for reclining on. At this time of day it's terribly warm. When Aziraphale is safely settled, Crowley proceeds to demonstrate treading water.

"Right," Crowley says, and holds up one hand, fingers together. "You keep your hands like this, and then push the water out from your chest, circle back round, and out again. I'm moving my tail right now, but you'll be kicking your legs, just like you did to get here, only you'll be vertical."

He does it a few times, before pushing himself up on the rock and sprawling out beside Aziraphale, grinning.

"Any questions?"

"Yes, just the one. Can you come up here so we can sun a little longer?" He smiles so brightly and the sun shines behind him to create a halo, the water reflecting off his skin and casting a gentle blue light.

"It's very nice up here and I think we could call this one ours, don't you think? Would be rude to visit and only stay a minute." Rude to the rock, of course.

But now that he thought about it, it was true. This was part of Crowley's domain, was it not? This territory was going to be his and Crowley's, a domain for them to protect and to keep. He looks at Crowley dreamily, just chasing his thoughts.

That halo of sun and the bright smile is almost blinding, and impossible for Crowley to refuse. He joins Azariphale, sprawling out along his side with his chin rested comfortably on his shoulder.

"Would be very rude, yes," he stretches lazily, and his tail flops over Aziraphale's legs.

"My den isn't far from here," he says, pointing to an outcrop of rocks some ways off further out to sea. "There. The water's choppy that way though, so it'll be a little while before you can come."

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