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pine 1 /pīn/noun
1. An evergreen coniferous tree that has clusters of long needle-shaped leaves. Many kinds are grown for their soft timber, which is widely used for furniture and pulp, or for tar and turpentine.
pine 2 /pīn/verb
2. verb: pine; 3rd person present: pines; past tense: pined; past participle: pined; gerund or present participle: pining
suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart.
"she thinks I am pining away from love"
It wasn't news. No secret that could be reliably kept. There were no arguments that weren't feeble at best.
Crowley pined.
Had pined.
Is pining.
Would continue to pine.
It's one of those words that starts to lose meaning the more times you said it. Doesn't sound quite real. Like waffle. Who thought waffle was a good word anyhow? He hadn't been in that particular part of the world when the word waffle had taken shape but he was there the first time Aziraphale had the pleasure of trying one.
He pined then too.
Today he was pining amongst the pines (starting to sound weird isn't it?) Aziraphale had dragged him to this small nursery outside of town to pick out a tree for the shop. It had been months since the Apoco that wasn’t and the wheels of time had continued to spin right into the Holidays. It was strange finding himself unemployed during what was normally the busiest time of the year for Demons, Angels, and retail workers alike. Temptations abound! Greed, gluttony, coveting of thy neighbor's wife, wealth, and front yard Christmas displays (Crowley's invention). Still here he was sneering at a bunch of underperforming pines. Needles falling out here and there. Brown spots and uneven branch placement. Terrible for ornaments. Nothing that grew under his supervision would ever have the audacity to...
"Crowley! I've found it! It's perfect!"
Aziraphale’s voice carried from three rows over, and Crowley followed the sound until he was standing in front of what wasn't exactly the most pathetic tree on the plot, but it was very much in the running.
"Angel you can't be serious." Raising an eyebrow high above his sunglasses. He circled the poor tree and came to a stop beside his angel "This couldn't hold up a star if you glued it on top.” Crowley looked at Aziraphale then back at the tree giving it the up and down, “Absolutely not."
"Why not? I think it's lovely!” He cooed at the pine his eyes glowing with delight. “And it's tried so hard to grow, haven't you?" Aziraphale said as he reached out to stroke a particularly spindly branch that lost the majority of its needles at his touch. "Everyone deserves a chance to shine, don't you think?"
Crowley rolled his eyes but his lips quirked up into (what was definitely not) a fond smirk. There he goes believing the best in things that may or may not deserve it. Though he had learned a hard lesson on that tarmac in Tadfield about blind belief, Crowley was relieved to find in the time after it hadn't diminished Aziraphel's nature of giving things a chance.
Now if only he could get the angel to turn all that positive thinking towards him, or them, or something.
He wasn't sure. Well he was sure, but he wasn't sure sure. He was sure that Aziraphale was his best friend and he was sure that the feelings he had been harboring for millennia crossed the bridge of friendship into wanting something more eons ago. And for a moment after they had gone back to his flat and concocted their scheme to switch places, after winning the day and dinner at the Ritz, he thought he was sure that Aziraphale felt the same. There had been bashful looks, brilliant smiles, he had even laid his hand (though briefly) over Crowley’s: the soft skin and warmth lighting up every nerve in his body until the waiter came by with the check and broke the moment. But then after that - What?
They spent more time together. That was a plus. Forced into retirement there was now museums and plays and gastro pubs to fill their time as they pleased. Crowley swears he had caught Aziraphale stealing glances of him when he didn't think Crowley was looking (he was. He's always looking. Side benefit to the ever present glasses covering his eyes) and was that touch accidental or did the angel mean to let his fingers linger on Crowley's elbow as he called him over to look at the next piece in the exhibit? No wonder humans got so bent out of shape over love. Trying to interpret the signs. Does he or doesn't he? Was that a regular brush of fingertips or did it mean more? It was all enough to drive an entity perfectly insane.
Lucky for the pine, Crowley’s “sure-not-sure-sure-ness” for Aziraphale made him loath to deny his angel anything. Maybe after just a little bit of bickering. He was still a demon after all.
"Yeah alright angel. It's your shop. If you want that straggler in it I guess that's up to you."
"Well maybe I've always had a fondness for things that don't fit within their own kind. That try their hardest despite their circumstance" Aziraphale mused
Crowley wants to believe that is some masked statement that means more than justifying the purchase of a pine tree that with one strong breeze is in danger of losing all its needles completely. But he can’t be sure. (there goes another word losing it's realness)
"I'm just saying you could have one of those nice big jobs over there! Isn't that what you usually go for anyway? Just imagine it in the center of the shop looking all large and impressive. This one, well there's hardly anything to it. I can reach the top without trying."
"Oh no this isn't for the shop my dear boy, that one is being delivered tomorrow." Then Aziraphale gave him a look that he wasn't quite sure how to interpret. It was a little shy, a little nervous, a Iittle...hopeful? Well that didn't make any sense.
"I rather thought this one might be for us. For the back room perhaps? It's the first Christmas after the world didn't end after all and I thought, maybe well, I was hoping...you'd want to spend it together?"
Ngk.
Aziraphale had turned to face him and was fiddling with the bottom of his waistcoat. Eyes darting anywhere that wasn't Crowley's quickly reddening face. As though he knew the demon’s eyes were wide with shock behind his sunglasses. Well of course he knew. Crowley liked to think he was smooth but Aziraphale had learned long ago how to read his face just as well as any of his books.
"I uh-are you sure? I mean yeah of course I'd l-like that yeah. If you want that is."
"I, yes-" He paused and considered his hands now clasped in front of him as though he were gathering strength for the words that came next "I do very much want." He said carefully and deliberately. Aziraphale looked at him now through his lashes and watched Crowley's face make a journey through varying emotions before settling on something between overwhelming joy and utter relief.
Did that mean? Was it possible? He wasn't wrong!? Oh Heavens! Oh Hells! Oh Wherever! He had a very undemon like urge to do a little victory dance right there in front of the whole nursery. Instead all he managed was a meek "Yeah?"
His hands had come out of his pockets of their own accord and Aziraphale was reaching for them with his own, looking more confident now.
"Yes." He said definitively smiling and lacing their fingers together.
Crowley had no words as Aziraphale gently tugged him towards the nearest salesperson, not letting go of his hand. He looked down for his footprints in the sparse snow on the ground, sure he was floating and not actually walking anymore. The rest of the transaction was a haze of words between Aziraphale and some human and before he knew it the sad little pine tree was being carefully tied to the top of the Bentley.
They parted to climb in their respective sides but before ducking down into the car Crowley lowered his glasses and glared at the pine tree still shedding needles.
"You better not disappoint him do you understand?"
Whether that was more for himself than the tree is best not thought about.
Crowley pined.
Had pined.
Is pining.
And finally, finally, he would no longer continue to pine.
Aziraphale’s hand was in his and they were driving back to SoHo to put up Their Christmas tree. Truly the end of the world was just the beginning.