oliver chase ☦ aziraphale (sparkofgoodness) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2021-03-16 23:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | cal price, oliver chase |
Who: Oliver & Cal
What: Real estate bargaining in domestic bliss, scheming angels and general boyfriend cuteness
Where: Their apartment in Philadelphia, PA
When: Monday evening, March 15 2021
Warnings: TBD
Oliver had only been home for an hour, and already things were going wrong. Actually things had been going wrong all day, if you wanted to get technical, but that was just one of the hazards of being a high school English teacher. Another frustrating Monday trying to pry open the minds of reluctant teenagers full to the brim with hormones and not room for much else. Honestly, Oliver should be used to it by now! However, if he heard one more student make a crude joke about the various references to suggestive innuendo in Hamlet, he might just lose his patient little angel mind.
He also absolutely dreaded getting around to A Midsummer Night's Dream.
No matter. He was home now, mercifully away from his students and and surrounded by only the things he still liked tonight. Namely, his books. And Cal, as soon as he got home from... wherever he currently was. Oliver had learned the hard way not to immediately ask him where he'd been given the nature of his work, and the fact that Cal was always more likely to tell him the truth instead of sugar coat it. A quality that Oliver objectively appreciated in him, except of course when he realized he really was probably better off not knowing certain things. Curiosity killed the angel.
If you had told Oliver three years ago (hell, even six months ago) that he would be in a happily committed relationship and living with a man of questionable profession and the reincarnate of a demon to boot, Oliver would have laughed in that person's face. Or more accurately, turned incredibly red and immediately changed the subject. Amazing how much someone's priorities can change in just a few short years, given meeting the right person. The fact that Cal turned out to be that 'right one' continued to astound, but there was no fighting it in the end. Sometimes Oliver still wondered if it would have been the same, if they had met as just themselves without Crowley and Aziraphale would they have still ended up here? Probably not, but Oliver didn't like to think about that too much because it gave him phantom ulcer. He didn't think angels were actually capable of getting ulcers, or getting sick at all, but sometimes his brain still tricked him into thinking that it was happening.
Going from human to Principality was a continuous adjustment.
It wasn't all bad, of course. Far from it, when you consider the various advantages to his situation. Never getting another cold? Invaluable, when your entire career revolved around teaching walking germ factories. The miracles themselves were a fantastic tool, and as much as he didn't like to think about how much time he had, relatively speaking and in comparison to others, it did mean that he would be able to visit Europe more than once. Much more than just the once. And no matter the reason, it had brought him Cal. His demonically inclined and very devoted boyfriend who Oliver was currently scheming against in an effort to plot out how he could convince Cal that they could handle one more bookshelf in the apartment. Yes, they barely had enough space as it was and what little space that was left not already taken up by plants or other shelves was taken up by miscellaneous piles of books on the floor. Did that matter? In the grand scheme of things, it was only one more bookshelf.
The point was, he and Cal had been together for awhile now. Longer than Oliver had initially assumed they would be. A demon and an angel, who would have thought? In the beginning, he was sure that Cal would have gotten bored within a month or two of being in a relationship with him, angel or no angel. It wouldn't be the first time Oliver was ever wrong, but it was the first time Oliver was glad to not be right. They'd also been living together for the last six months, in Oliver's cozy (read: much too small) apartment that really wasn't meant for two people, but they made it work. Besides, they weren't exactly people. That helped in most situations.
Except, of course, for when it didn't.
The thing about being a supernatural entity who rents is that it would be very easy to live in a place where nothing ever broke. Miracles were certainly handy that way. Unfortunately, living in an apartment where nothing ever needed to be fixed would invite some unwanted questions after awhile. Oh, Oliver did the occasional fix-it miracle now and then, just to save himself a conversation with the landlord, but he really did try not to make it too much of a habit. He wanted to appear as normal as absolutely possible, especially now that he wasn't even remotely normal. This often meant a lot of unnecessary doing of things the hard way, or rather, the 'human' way. And sometimes, Oliver spotted an issue and instead of doing something to fix it, he let it sit until it got so bad that it became a much bigger problem. There was nothing more normal and human than that, was there?
Right now he was somewhat regretting that decision, especially when the pipe in the kitchen burst after Oliver had ignored the worrying sound it was making for a week. The actual bursting was still quite a surprise, actually, causing Oliver to jump at least ten feet in the air before springing into action. Or in other words, blind panic. Instead of immediately shutting off the flow of water with a well placed miracle, Oliver attempted to fix the problem himself, which he figured out quickly was not going to work (though not before a whole lot of flailing and fumbling, and maybe even very nearly swearing, heaven forbid). Not quick enough so that by the time he realized it, Oliver was drenched, the kitchen was flooded, and everything in sight of him was also very wet. The floor, the counters, but worse? The books he'd left on the kitchen table and a few of Cal's plants that had the misfortune of being within spraying distance. Mind you, water wasn't necessarily bad for plants, but over watering? That was bound to be noticeable and no doubt his boyfriend would take it out on the poor things.
Still mid-wrestle with the alarming geyser of water, Oliver eventually conceded defeat and took a step back as he exclaimed, "Alright, enough!" to no one in particular. He had only one mission objective now: save the books, save the plants. Throwing a miracle into the universe, the water from the broken pipe immediately stopped, the floors and counters dried up, his books were thankfully absent any water damage and the plants were now only appropriately watered. Crisis mostly averted?
It was imperative that Cal didn't see the evidence of this latest household mishap, it would only further hurt Oliver's case in his quest to win the battle against Cal that they absolutely did not need to move. Honestly, how does anyone live like this? "You're not helping," Oliver told Aziraphale with a small huff as he surveyed the area before finally looking down at himself and realizing that he'd saved the books and the plants, but he'd forgotten to save himself. Standing in a now conspicuously dry kitchen, his dress shirt and pants still drenched, Oliver heard a noise that likely meant Cal was already home and ran a hasty hand through his wet curls, looking sheepish.
This was going to be difficult to explain.