Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wednesday, 21 February, 2024

Aziraphale Eastgate was sitting at a table in the Dirty Donkey, the pub nearest his shop, feeling very morose. He was waiting for his best friend to come have a drink with him, and hopefully give him some earthly idea of what the hell to do. While he waited, he scrolled his contacts listlessly, without any hope, checking off the people who had turned him down.

“Busy… busy… seeing someone… out of town that week… and this one told me to bugger off, which was much ruder than I expected. I thought he and I were on good terms,” he muttered to himself.

When he got to the bottom of his contacts, he sighed pitifully and opened Facebook, thinking maybe there was someone he had missed there. There had to be at least one person that he’d -

“Wotcher, Aziraphale,” came a friendly voice.

Aziraphale looked up to see his best friend, Fergus, striding into the pub like he owned the place - which was his way. Fergus was a football player, with a not-insignificant level of fame. But in truth, Fergus had always walked into every room he entered like he owned it, even before he was famous. Of course, that could have been because Fergus was better looking than David Beckham: tall and strapping with rugged features, clear blue eyes, and a jaw you could grate cheese on. He had been getting second glances since he began puberty, and it was sometimes a little difficult to be at a pub or any other public place with him, because he attracted attention from fans and admirers. He really was the polar opposite of Aziraphale in every conceivable way, but he had been Aziraphale’s best friend since Uni. Aziraphale knew the man within, and he loved him tremendously.

At any rate, Aziraphale was happy and relieved to see him, and his face lit with the first smile he’d had in what felt like days. “Oh, Fergus. You’re here. I’m so glad to see you. Please, sit.”

Fergus took the seat across from him, and before he even had a chance to take off his coat, the waitress was at the table, smiling at Fergus besottedly. “Ah, yeah,” Fergus said. “How’s your lager?”

"Best in the city," the woman answered, batting her lashes.

Aziraphale was amused to see that Fergus seemed completely unaware of her flirting. "I'll take one of those, then. Aziraphale, what do you want?"

"Another port, please."

She barely looked at Aziraphale when she jotted it down and he wondered if Fergus was oblivious or uninterested. He'd seen him flirt confidently before, so he assumed disinterest. Not that Aziraphale blamed him - this woman was at least ten years older than the two of them.

“So what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Fergus asked, picking up the lager when she brought it back - and had batted her lashes at him again.

“What makes you think my metaphorical knickers are in a twist?” Aziraphale bluffed.

Fergus saw right through it. “Something’s got you all wound up. What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m… physically I’m fine. There’s no danger to my person.”

“Are you in some sort of spiritual jeopardy?”

“There’s no need to make light of it,” he snarked lightly. “It’s… it involves my family.”

“Oh, fuck,” Fergus groaned, rolling his head back a little. “What did those arseholes do this time?”

“I need a date for Gabriel’s wedding in ten days.”

“I still can’t believe Gabe suckered someone into marrying him. Poor girl.”

“Oh, she’s delightful,” Aziraphale said.

Fergus raised a suspicious brow. “Really?”

“No. She’s horrible. They deserve each other.”

Fergus snorted into his lager. “Marrying a complete bitch is just what that shithead deserves.”

“I quite agree,” Aziraphale said. “And Michael is a piece of work.”

“Her name is Michael? I thought he was dating someone named Bee, just a couple of months ago?”

“Yes, her name is Michael, and he was dating someone named Bee just a couple of months ago.”

“So what happened?”

“My parents did. They didn’t ‘pass muster’, so my parents told him to find an acceptable wife and pushed him in Michael’s direction.”

Fergus looked stricken. “Jesus. That’s awful.”

“Quite. Not even my brother deserves that.”

“I don’t know, man,” Fergus said with a wry grin. “He’s pretty fucking terrible.”

“Well, that’s true. I won’t argue with you about that. But do you mind if we focus on me for a moment?”

“No, not at all. What’s the problem?”

“I need a date for Gabriel’s wedding. And I don’t have a date.”

“Why do you need a date?”

“Because they gave me a plus one.”

Fergus shrugged a little. “So? They gave me one, too. You don’t have to use it.”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heating. “Well, I do, because… you see… I told them I was seeing someone. That I had a boyfriend, to be specific.”

The look that Fergus was giving him communicated clearly what he thought. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because I thought I would! This was several months ago, and I truly thought I would have time to find someone to go with me. But everyone I’ve asked has told me no, and I’m almost out of time. I have no idea what to do!”

“Tell them that you broke up with this imaginary guy. You could even give it some flair - say he cheated or something.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Aziraphale scoffed.

“You’re afraid to besmirch the name of some imaginary guy?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that if I tell them that me and this man broke up - even for a valid reason - that’s going to make me look bad. Like I can’t make a partner happy. And you know how my family feels about me being gay -”

“Yeah. They just tolerate it.”

“Right. And you know how they feel about me in general -”

“That you’re a loser.”

He pursed his lips a little. “That I’m not living up to my potential, yes. So I think you’ll understand why I’m hesitant to turn up at this event with no boyfriend, saying that we broke up. They’ll think that I’m pathetic - and they wouldn’t be far off the mark.”

“You’re not pathetic, you just come from a family of pricks.”

“Well, you just tell that to my family. ‘Aziraphale is not pathetic, like you think, it’s you who suck’.”

“It would be true.”

“Yes, but how often is my family receptive to the truth?”

“Fair point. Alright,” Fergus said, sitting forward a little bit. “Let’s workshop other ideas. You could say something came up with work -”

“They have no respect for my work, and would not accept that as an excuse. You know they think owning and operating a bookshop is beneath them.”

“Fine. What about saying your boyfriend is sick? Or you’re sick? Diarrhea can strike at any time, as I’m fond of saying.”

“This is a multi-day event, as you know, and I’m expected to be there. Telling them my boyfriend is sick might work, but only if they don’t ask too many questions. And you know how they are.”

“Yeah, that’s true. They’re going to ask questions.” He looked to be thinking for a minute, then said, “You know, you could just… not go. Don’t even bother with any excuses or anything, just… not fucking go.”

Aziraphale gave him a look. “You know better than that, dear.”

“I know that ‘no’ is a complete sentence. You don’t owe them anything.”

“No, I don’t, but if I do that, my mobile will blow up with calls and texts telling me what a miserable son I am, that I’ve shamed the whole family, and all that song and dance.”

“You could block them all.”

“I can’t do that, either. This is my family, Fergus. I can’t just cut them out of my life, as much as I would like to. Besides, I couldn’t possibly do that to Muriel.”

“You could stay in contact with her.”

“And then she would face estrangement. Out of the question.”

Fergus looked displeased by this, and Aziraphale sighed. “I really just don’t know what to do. There are no good options here. I’m seriously considering taking out an advert looking for a date for the week.”

“For the week?”

“Well, not quite. It’s five days, from Wednesday to Monday.”

“You have to be there the whole time?”

“Unless I want to hear the inevitable malarkey that would result from me not showing up.”

“So you’re thinking of - what? Paying someone?”

“Well, what else can I do? It’s hopeless otherwise. I’ve got five thousand pounds ready to give the person who will go with me.”

“Five thousand pounds?”

“Yes. A thousand for each day.”

“You’re going to pay that amount of money for a week at the estate?” Fergus scoffed. “Shit, I’ll do it. Consider me your boyfriend now.”

Aziraphale laughed a little, then said, “Oh, do be serious. You are one of the most recognizable people in British sports. It would cause a terrific scandal.”

“I’ll grow a mustache and start answering to ‘Tom’. No one will know.”

Aziraphale laughed again.

“In all seriousness, Az, what are you trying to accomplish with this date? Just arm candy?”

“Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes… really, I just want them to see that I’m… Oh, I’m about to get deep and maudlin.”

“Go ahead. It’s me you’re talking to.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment, then nodded internally. “I want them to see that I’m not entirely unlovable. That at least one person in the world enjoys my company.”

“Okay, first of all, you are the farthest thing from unlovable. You are the most lovable person I know, by leaps and bounds. It’s just your shitty family that treats you this way.”

“Well, yes…”

“And what’s more - what the hell am I? Chopped liver? You are my favorite person to hang out with. I enjoy your company immensely.”

Aziraphale gave him a little smile. “And I love you, too, dear, but you don’t count. Not for this. Although I will say that they see my friendship with you as one of the very few things I’ve done that’s respectable.”

“And I’d love to kick the crap out of every one of them.”

“I know you would, dear.”

“So back to this date. You’re just wanting someone to go, pretend to be your boyfriend in front of people, and behind the scenes, you just… ignore each other?”

“I mean, I would like to be friendly with the person, ideally. But as long as we can get along, at least in front of my family, I’ll be happy.”

Fergus looked to be thinking for a second, then his face cleared. “I think I have the guy.”

Aziraphale perked up. “You do?”

“Yeah. He’s my mechanic.”

“Oh, dear, they’re not going to like the idea of a mechanic…”

“Two things. First, he’s not just a regular mechanic. He only works on high-end, luxury cars - as well as classic cars. He and his garage are highly in demand. And for the second thing - wouldn’t it make it better if they disapproved?”

Aziraphale started to protest, but then it felt like a light was shining down on him, and his face cleared into a smile. “Do you know, it just might be better? Do you think he’d do it?”

“He might, yeah. I can ask him.”

“Fergus, the wedding is in ten days. And it isn’t just a weekend thing, it’s for the majority of five days. Surely he’s beholden to his job.”

“It’s his garage. He owns it. I’ve known him to take off for things he wanted to do before.”

“Yes, but this is not something he’s going to want to do.”

Fergus grinned. “You don’t know that. He’d probably be delighted to take a couple of days off.”

“Won’t he lose business like that?”

“I’m telling you, Az, he’s the best around. His garage is very well known, and people pay a lot to go there. If he tells me to wait a few days for him to work on my car, I’m not taking it somewhere else. And neither will his other customers.”

“Oh, well, that’s exc- wait. Is he even queer?”

Fergus shrugged. “Don’t know. I see women hanging around, trying to catch his attention - and I’ve seen men do it, too. He banters with them, is a little flirty, but I’ve never known him to actually date anyone. Male or female.”

“Then why do you think he’d do this, if he’s straight?”

Fergus tilted his head to the side. “Why do you think he’s straight?”

“My dear, most people are. It’s just safer to assume they’re not queer, lest you offend them. Some people don’t like that at all. Especially men.”

“Not this guy. Promise. He won’t be offended. So you should assume away.”

“No, I don’t think I will. I have rather solid evidence that he’s not.”

“What might that be, pray tell?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, I hesitate to say this, because it could swell your head to giant pumpkin proportions…” Fergus snorted indelicately. “...But if he didn’t hit on you, I think it’s probably safe to assume he’s straight.”

Fergus laughed outright. “You’re so funny sometimes, mate.”

“Really, dear, why do you think he’d go with me, if he’s straight?”

“Well, first, like I said, I’m not certain he’s straight. I literally have no idea. But as for why he’d do it - Because he has a penchant for fuckery. For mischief. I’m almost certain he would do this just for the laughs of it. This is right up his alley.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment. “How long have you known him?”

“Since not long after I bought the Porsche. Something like five years? Six?”

“How old is he? What does he look like? Is he a nice man?”

Fergus smiled indulgently. “He’s about our age, so mid-thirties. He’s very nice, but he’s a jokester. A really funny guy. As for what he looks like, he’s not exactly your usual type, he’s got some tattoos and whatnot, but he’s good looking, as far as I can tell.”

“As far as you can tell? What does that mean?”

“That means that I have no desire to bugger him, but I can see why he has people flirting with him all the time.”

Aziraphale considered this for a moment. “And you really think he’ll do it?”

“I think I can ask him about it, and see what he says. But he’s a good guy and a friend of mine. If I tell him the situation, I feel like he’ll do it.”

“Well, alright, then. You can ask him.”

“Perfect,” Fergus said. “I’ll go by his shop tomorrow, and then I’ll let you know what he says after, yeah?”

“That sounds good to me,” Aziraphale said, feeling a tiny touch of relief. Maybe this would work. Maybe he wouldn’t be -

Something occurred to him suddenly. “Oh, I almost forgot. What is his name?”

“Crowley. His name is Anthony J. Crowley.”

Thursday, 22 February

Crowley was doing what he loved best: he was on his back, under a car, humming along with the radio that was playing in the shop, tinkering. This Alfa Romeo had an oil leak somewhere, and he could have left it to any of the others, but he had done paperwork all morning and was sick to the back teeth of administrative shit. He wanted to do something. So he’d decided to say fuck the paperwork for now and come get under a car. He was happiest when he was solving problems, and filling out stupid tax forms was not the kind of problem he liked to solve.

He was just getting somewhere, had just spotted the source of the leak, when he heard Ligur calling his name. “Hey boss!”

“Yeah?” Crowley called back.

“Fergus is here to see you.”

“You can send him on back,” Crowley said, then sealed the pipe he was working with and slid out from under the car.

When he was free of it, he looked up to see Fergus Fitzgerald, his friend, coming in with a smile on his face. Crowley jumped up off of the board almost effortlessly.

“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Crowley said, smiling, as he pulled off his gloves so he could shake Fergus’ hand. “How the hell are you?”

“I’m good,” Fergus said, also grinning.

“How’s that Porsche?”

“Drives like a dream.”

“Glad to hear it. So what made you decide to come in and brighten my day?”

“Got a proposition for you, of a sort.”

Crowley’s grin grew. “I never took you for the type, but sure. Proposition me.”

Fergus snorted. “It’s not for me.”

He raised a brow. “You looking to pimp me out?”

“Nah. I hung up my fur coat years ago.” It was Crowley’s turn to snort at that mental image. “I’ve got a friend that needs a date to a family wedding.”

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?”

“No, no. Not like that. He’s got to go to this thing, and they disapprove of him. It’s one of those passive aggressive disapprovals, where they never outright tell him they don’t like him or what he’s doing, they just talk around it. But he knows.”

“So this is a he?”

“Yeah. If that’s a problem, I’ll leave with no questions, and we can forget I ever asked.”

“No, it’s not a problem for me. I don’t mind helping someone in need for a day.”

“Well, it’s kind of more than a day.”

He raised a brow again. “A weekend?”

“A long weekend. From Wednesday to the following Monday.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. I was invited, but as a regular guest. If I go, I’ll get there Saturday and leave Monday. But he has other shit to do because he’s family, so he’d need you five days.”

“Jesus, Fergus. What kind of wedding is this?”

“It’s at Tadfield Manor.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “This guy is one of the Eastgates?”

“He’s their son.”

He blew out his breath. “Well, that whole shindig sounds poncy.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely going to be. He’s dreading it horribly.”

“When is it?”

“The actual wedding is the third.”

He did some quick math. “That’s next weekend!”

“I know, I know. But he’s desperate. He’s willing to pay you a thousand pounds a day to come pretend to be his boyfriend.”

“I don’t need the money, you know I don’t need the money.”

“I know. But he feels compelled to offer it.”

“What’s this guy like?”

“Well, he’s been my best mate since Uni. He owns a bookshop in Soho -”

Crowley’s brows were near his hairline. “Soho, you say?”

“Yeah, but don’t let that fool you. He looks like he belongs anywhere but Soho. He’s kind of prim and proper when you first meet him, but once you scratch the surface just a little, he’s witty as hell. Got just enough of a bastard streak to keep you on your toes. But he’s also the kind of man that finds baby birds lying on the ground in the park and either puts them back in their nest or nurses them to health. He’s got a heart as big as the world.”

“I don’t know, man. He sounds like a nice guy, but the idea of spending a week around the Eastgates at some hoity-toity function… and I’ll have to be on my best behavior…”

“Maybe not,” Fergus said. “I didn’t go into much detail about how he wants you to act. All he said was that he wanted someone who would pretend to like him in front of his family. And to be honest, he’s impossible not to like. I don’t know how the hell his family does it.”

Crowley let his thoughts swirl for a minute, and then Fergus said, “Look, if you don’t want to do it, I respect that entirely. This is a weird ask for anybody, but when I’m asking you to do it for a stranger… I get it. I’m kind of crossing a line here. But I would really, really appreciate it if you would be willing to sit down with him and have a drink. Just meet him and see what kind of impression you get. If you don’t like him or whatever, we’ll say no more. But I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d at least meet him.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, coming to a decision. “I can at least meet him and have a drink with him. Go ahead and set us up for drinks, if you don’t mind. I’m free tonight and tomorrow night.”

“Perfect,” Fergus said, looking pleased. “That’s perfect. Thanks a lot. I owe you one.”

“Well, we’ll see how big of one you owe me after I meet this guy,” Crowley said, grinning. “Oh, before I forget - what’s his name?”

“Aziraphale. His name is Aziraphale.”

Chapter Text

Friday, 23 February

Crowley wasn’t entirely sure he was going to hear back from Fergus after he left the garage on Thursday afternoon. The whole interaction had been strange - which in itself was strange, because Fergus was usually such a level-headed bloke. The fact that it was so weird piqued Crowley’s curiosity. He’d known Fergus and they’d been somewhat casual friends for the last five or six years… finding a fake date for a wedding did not seem like the kind of thing Fergus would participate in. It must be something - and/or someone - that was really important. That gave it a little more weight in Crowley’s mind.

But he had still almost put it out of his mind entirely and dismissed it as some sort of prank when Fergus texted Thursday evening. Fergus asked if he’d be willing to meet this Aziraphale after work on Friday at the Dirty Donkey in Soho. He didn’t think much about it before he sent back a message agreeing to meet, then set a reminder in his phone so he wouldn’t forget.

And that’s how he found himself strolling down the Soho pavement towards this charmingly named establishment, to meet his prospective fake boyfriend for next week. The whole idea was silly, when you thought about it. But Crowley had been so bored lately. He felt restless, like he needed a little bit of excitement. He certainly didn’t need the money - although, if he did this, he might take it anyway. He could always donate it to a charity. But there were dealbreakers - things that he would absolutely not compromise on, and he listed them to himself as he walked.

He would say no if this Aziraphale fellow had bad breath. He’d say no if he had facial hair that was ridiculous: one of those grizzly beards, or mutton chops. He’d say no if the guy was not funny - that was a big one for him, actually - and he’d walk right out if he was wearing a ManU jumper. Crowley was also going to keep an eye on what the man ordered. If he seemed high maintenance or something, Crowley was going to vamoose without a look back. He was open to the possibility that this might go well, but he didn’t realistically think he was going to walk out of this meeting with a date to a wedding. It was just a lark, and a way to kill some boredom this evening.

Crowley found the pub, and it looked decent enough from the street. He wouldn’t know until he got inside - pubs could be so dicey. And this was Soho! There was no telling.

He pulled open the wooden door and stepped inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the low light, he was pleased to see that this pub wasn’t really seedy at all - it just looked like any average pub. A little soothed by that, he started looking around for this Aziraphale fellow. All Fergus had told him was that this man was good looking (which gave Crowley pause, since that was so subjective) and that he had hair so blond it was almost white.

Crowley scanned the pub, and then spotted the likely candidate. There was a man sitting at a table near the corner with his back to Crowley. He looked to have on shirtsleeves and a waistcoat, and he had curly, white-blonde hair. Crowley didn’t see anyone else with white-blond hair, so he assumed this must be the man.

So he started over in that direction, mentally preparing himself that ‘good looking’ could mean anything, and this guy might be fairly unfortunate looking. He was also going over his list of hard nos: not funny, bad breath, mutton chops…

He put on a smile when he got close enough, and was still mostly behind the man he assumed was his date when he said, in his most charming voice, “Hi.”

The man turned and looked at Crowley, and whoof, he was good looking. He had a face that was soft and gentle, with perfectly formed features, and eyes that were the most interesting mix of blue and grey. Fucking hell, he was pretty. Crowley couldn’t think of a single word to say to the man, who was looking at Crowley a little like he was crazy.

“Can I help you?” he said, very politely but clearly guarded.

It didn’t matter how guarded he sounded, his voice was beautiful: clear and musical, like chimes.

Crowley finally managed to speak. “Ah, yeah. Hi. Are you Aziraphale?”

Then the man’s face spread into a smile, and bloody hell, he looked like a fucking angel when he smiled. Yeah, Crowley would have compromised on the mutton chops thing.

“I am, yes. Are you Crowley?”

Crowley gave him an answering smile. “I am, yeah. Can I sit?”

“Please,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley slid into the seat across from him. He was still smiling. Couldn’t seem to help it.

“Thank you for coming to meet with me,” Aziraphale said. “I realize this is a most unusual request.”

“No problem,” Crowley said, flagging down a waitress. He ordered a lager and Aziraphale ordered a port - which was not as fussy or high-maintenance as he’d feared. It suggested that he appreciated fine things, but that he wasn’t a snob. Good. “Fergus is a good friend, the least I could do was meet with you.”

“Well, I’m so grateful you did.”

Honestly, Crowley was, too.

The waitress came and brought their drinks, and Crowley took a sip of his at the same time Aziraphale took a sip of his own. Crowley was just trying to think of something to say to get the conversation started - because he very much wanted to have a conversation with this man - when Aziraphale pushed his drink a little to the side and leaned over the table a bit. “Let me tell you the situation, and what I need. My brother is getting married, you see -”

Crowley held up both hands, smiling. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there. Put on the brakes for a minute. Let’s just chat for a little while and see if you and I mesh well enough to pull this off, okay?”

Aziraphale looked flustered. “Oh! Oh, yes, I suppose that would be proper, wouldn’t it?”

He gave him a flirtatious grin. “I’m not much on being proper, most of the time. Way I hear it, it’s part of my charm.”

“Oh. Yes, I imagine it would be,” Aziraphale said, then seemed a little flustered. Crowley was pleased with that.

“So tell me about yourself, Aziraphale,” he said, still giving him a smile he hoped was winning.

“What would you like to know?”

Crowley shrugged. “Anything, really. Let’s start with ‘what do you do’?”

“Oh! Well, I own and operate a bookshop, actually. Not very far from here, really.”

“A bookshop! That’s interesting. Do you specialize in anything?”

“Well, yes. Kind of. We also have a coffee shop, you see, and people like to come in and get a drink, then sit in one of the cozy chairs, reading.”

“That sounds really, really nice, actually,” Crowley said. “How long have you been doing that?”

“I bought the shop a couple of years after I left uni. I’ve been running it for the last ten years.”

Crowley was a little amazed at the idea of someone buying a shop fresh out of uni, but he reminded himself that this was one of the Eastgates, and that was probably par for the course. “Ah, so you’re about my age, then.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-four. I’ll be thirty-five in June.”

“Ah, then yes, we’re about the same age. I’ll be thirty-six… soon.”

“Delightful,” Crowley said, smiling.

“What about you? Fergus said that you are a mechanic?”

“Yeah. I own a garage that specializes in vintage, classic, and modern luxury cars. Alfa Romeos, Rolls Royces, things like that.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting. I don’t know the first thing about cars. You must be very clever.”

“Enh, I know what I’m doing.’

“How long have you had your garage?”

“I got a job there right out of school, and worked my way up until I was running it. The owner decided to retire around the time Covid hit, and I bought it. It’s been mine for about four years.”

“That’s fantastic, Crowley!” Aziraphale said, and he seemed genuinely pleased. “I take it you like what you do?”

“I do, very much. I like the idea of taking things that are broken and making them better. It’s kind of a rush to fix problems. It makes me feel like I have purpose.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of purpose in your life,” Aziraphale said, flushing a little.

Crowley grinned. “I do, actually, but I really like my job, anyway. So how do you know Fergus?”

“Ah, yes. That’s a funny story. He and I met at uni.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I was the star pupil, if you’ll forgive me for bragging about myself, and he was, of course, the star of every sport he played. He was also something of a class clown. It seemed like he thrived on attention, and that gave me an impression of him. I thought he was this big, dumb jock with one brain cell that played pong in his head. I didn’t like him very much, and avoided him as much as I could.”

Crowley was grinning. “What changed your mind?”

“Well, in our English Literature class, he had faffed about so much - if you’ll excuse the phrase - that he was in danger of failing. So he came to me and asked for help. He was quite plaintive and sincere in his request for help, and I was dubious of him, thinking he might be an excellent actor, but I couldn’t turn down someone in need. So I agreed to tutor him. He and I met at my flat, and he was supposed to be there for forty-five minutes. I had actually set an alarm to remind me to tell him to leave. He ended up staying for four hours, and by the time he left, we were the absolute best of friends. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“That’s so interesting. I’d have thought you’d be opposites.”

“We are! We very much are. But when we talked and got to know each other, I saw past the persona he wears everyday. I felt like I saw a glimpse of his soul, if you’ll allow me to be dramatic. And as it happened, I very much liked what I saw. We just… clicked. And now he’s this big star athlete, and children have his posters on their walls… I think it’s the sort of thing that could easily go to someone’s head, if they let it. He’s never said so, but I think he likes spending time with me because he doesn’t have to be inauthentic. He doesn’t have to be Fergus Fitzgerald,” Aziraphale said, making little jazz hands. “He gets to just be himself.” He gave a mischievous little grin. “Plus, he knows all my deepest, darkest secrets, so I can never let him go.”

Crowley let out a bark of a laugh. He hadn’t expected that, and it absolutely delighted him. He’d said he was going to walk out if Aziraphale was boring, and he seemed to be anything but boring. Crowley was thinking that he might have compromised on the ManU sweater, too.

“How do you know Fergus? He mentioned that he met you when he bought his Porsche.”

“He did, yes. He bought it and a week after the dealer’s warranty expired, one of the belts broke. So he brought it to me, and I get famous and rich people in my shop all the time, but I was still a little starstruck by him. But he was just the nicest guy. We spent some time talking, just chatting, and struck up a friendship. We’ve been friends for the last, oh, I guess five or six years. But we’re obviously not as close as the two of you are.”

“Yes, well, to be honest, I’m grateful to hear that. I’d hate to have to fight for his attentions.”

Crowley laughed again. He definitely would have compromised on the ManU sweater, and he was almost certain he was going to do this crazy thing. But before he committed…

“So why are you needing a date? A guy like you… seems like you’d have men beating down your door.”

Aziraphale looked shy but pleased. “You might be surprised. I’m not exactly what most men look for in someone to date.”

“You just haven’t met the right men,” Crowley flirted.

“No, I don’t think I have,” Aziraphale said. “I’m hoping to change that one day, but I don’t think it’s going to happen before next weekend.”

That stung a little, but it shouldn’t have. It would have been alarming for him to flirt with Crowley quite at that level at the moment. Honestly, that would have been a huge red flag. But he did seem somewhat interested, and Crowley was happy about that.

“Alright, then, let’s say I’m interested in doing this. Tell me the situation, please?”

“Ah, yes. The nitty gritty, as they say. Well, it’s my brother Gabriel's wedding, and he’s marrying the daughter of an Earl.”

“Which Earl?”

“Benedict, I believe.”

“Hmm. I don’t know a great deal about him, but his wife has a bit of a reputation.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Way I hear it, she’s cold and uppity. She apparently was raised working class, but was a social climber, so now she’s married to an Earl - even though her husband isn’t exactly the richest member of the gentry, if you take my meaning.” He leaned forward, as if to impart a great secret, and was thrilled when Aziraphale leaned forward, eager to hear it. “The rumor mill says she’s a bitch.”

Aziraphale looked delighted by that news. “If she’s anything like her daughter, that’s quite likely. The whole thing is quite the to-do in my family, who are all very excited about us joining as peerage.”

“Are you excited about that?”

“Honestly?”

“Please.”

“I could not give less of a damn about anyone’s title. But my parents do, and I guess that’s what’s relevant here.”

“Your parents are living?”

“Yes. Frances and Derek Eastgate.”

“Are they nice?”

“Well, I think that depends on your definition of the word, and your perception of them,” Aziraphale hedged.

That sent Crowley’s antennae up a little, but he wasn’t alarmed. Just intrigued. “They don’t approve of you?”

“No, not as such.”

“Are they homophobes?”

“I… don’t quite know how to answer that honestly. I would like to say no, because they patronize a couple of charities that help the LGBT community, but it’s one of those situations where they’re doing the right thing, but not for the right reasons. Homosexuality is perfectly fine in theory, but they don’t want it under their roof.”

“I see,” Crowley said, deciding that if he did this, he wanted to act as gay as possible - for a couple of reasons.

“They also feel that I’ve wasted my potential by opening a bookshop.”

“Wasted your potential, how?”

“They just think that it’s beneath them. Beneath me. Being a shopkeeper is, again, fine for other people, but not for one of the Eastgates.”

“Hmm,” Crowley said, mind spinning a little. “Tell me the details of the wedding?”

“It’s going to be a big, obnoxious, posh affair. My family can't seem to do anything that's not huge, and Gabriel's bride has a huge family with their own estates and things, so it's going to be almost a week that we'll be there."

"Yeah, Fergus said. A week just for a wedding?"

"And various parties and dinners, which will turn into mostly business.”

“Well, I don’t know, Aziraphale,” he said teasingly. “You’re asking me to be gone on leap year?”

He looked a little puzzled. “Is the 29th a holiday of some sort?”

“Nah. I’m just teasing a little.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, looking first surprised and then thrilled. “I shall have to watch myself around you, Mr. Crowley. Fergus was right, you’re a jokester.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Oh, no, not at all. As long as your jokes aren’t mean-spirited.”

“Nah, not to you. Never to you. In all seriousness, what would you need me to do?”

“All that will really be asked of you is for you to be polite… and decorative.” Crowley grinned and Aziraphale blushed. “I'm afraid it'll be deathly boring for you, but ..."

“Don’t worry about me being bored. Can you give me a bit more detail?”

“Of course. I am supposed to arrive Wednesday evening, and stay until the following Monday. The wedding is on Sunday, at the estate, and there is a rehearsal dinner on Friday evening. There’s also a couple of other things that I can’t think of off the top of my head.”

“Will they put us in separate rooms?”

Aziraphale laughed lightly. “I’m certain they will. They won’t want me to engage in any behavior that isn’t ‘edifying to the kingdom’, so to speak.”

“Ah, so they’re religious.”

“They go to church every Sunday, but they’re only really religious when it suits them. And keeping gay sex from occuring under their roof would be one of those times that they invoke the Almighty.” He was smiling, but his face quickly turned to mortification. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to imply -”

“You’re fine,” Crowley said with a grin, liking this man more and more with every passing second. “What do you expect of me? You said decorative and polite, right?”

The blond man blushed a little.“I really shouldn’t have told you that I needed you to be decorative, that was the wrong thing to say and quite rude-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crowley said with a wave of his hand. “That’s what you need, though?”

“Yes, that would be ideal.”

“Is there anything else?” Aziraphale seemed stumped for a minute, and Crowley went on. “Put it this way - you want me to come be your boyfriend. And I’d like to be the kind of boyfriend you’d want me to be. So what does a good boyfriend look like to you?”

“I… I don’t really know…”

“What would your dream man be like?” Crowley asked, fishing.

He thought for a moment. “I think that ideally, I’d like someone who is… nice.”

Crowley grinned at him. “Nice is a bit of a four letter word, angel, but I can swing it, for certain people.”

“You’ve seemed very nice so far, to me.”

“I’m nice to people I like, but your family doesn’t sound like the type of people I’m going to like. Still, I can be nice for your sake. I’m an excellent actor. What else would you like me to be?”

“I, um, I think I’d like to have a boyfriend who is attentive. Perhaps even romantic. And who would… who would pretend to be proud to be seen with me. That would be nice.”

There was more to unpack with that last one and Crowley knew it, but he wasn’t about to get into it right now. “I can absolutely do all of those things.”

Aziraphale looked at him hopefully. “You can?”

“I can, and I’d like to. This sounds like fun.”

Aziraphale looked terribly pleased. “Oh, Crowley, I’m so relieved to hear that. Thank you so, so much. I promise not to be too much of a bother -”

“I can’t imagine you ever bothering me, honestly.”

“I, um, I actually have the cash now to pay you for this.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “You’re just walking around with that much money in your pocket?”

“I was hoping to sweeten the pot for you, as they say,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

He put his hand up in a warding off gesture. “Keep it. I’m not taking it.”

“Oh, but you must! There’s no way I can let you do this without reimbursing you for your time ”

“Just hang onto it for now, if you don’t mind. We’ll talk about it more later. For now, we’ll just call it cash on delivery.”

“Do you have a good suit? I will get you a good suit if you don't have one.”

“I have a very nice suit, actually. Tailored just about six months ago for another wedding. Is black alright?”

“Black is just fine with me. But I do wish you’d let me pay you -”

“Honestly. Just hang onto it, and we’ll reassess when things are done.”

“Well, alright. If you insist.”

“How far is the estate? And what time do you have to be there Wednesday? Because if possible, I’d like to work that day, at least for a while. But I can knock off early.”

“They asked me to be there by dinner, which is seven, but I don’t have to-”

“No, that’s fine. How far away is it?”

“It’s about two hours by train. In Oxford.”

“Oh, no. We won’t be going by train,” Crowley said with a grin.

“We won’t?”

“No, we won’t. Did you forget what I do? I have a couple of really nice cars. You are going to arrive in style, my new friend.”

“I am?”

“Oh, absolutely. We’re going to do our best to impress your family. Knock them dead.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, looking very happy. It was a look Crowley liked - and he really liked the way Aziraphale had just sighed his name right then. “I’m so pleased that you’re willing to do this.”

“Trust me, Aziraphale. I’m looking forward to this. This is going to be fun. I’ll pick you up Wednesday afternoon. How does four thirty sound?”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, 28 February

Aziraphale was at his flat Wednesday afternoon, sitting in his favorite armchair with his bag packed and on the couch. He had a book open, but he wasn’t looking at it: Crowley was supposed to be arriving for them to go to Tadfield for the weekend, was actually supposed to be here three minutes ago, and that was all he could think about. He had thought he was nervous about meeting Crowley and asking him to be his date, but that had been nothing compared to the way he felt now, as he was about to embark on nearly a week with this man. He was rather sure that he was simultaneously going to be in heaven and hell over the next few days.

Fergus had told him that Crowley was good looking, but Fergus must be straighter than Aziraphale thought, because Crowley was downright dreamy. He was tall and slender, lean like a jungle cat, with fiery ginger hair that was perfectly tousled. He had eyes that were the exact color of honey, and his face was angled in the most beautiful ways. Aziraphale had had to fight to keep from sighing like a besotted schoolgirl multiple times while they were at the Dirty Donkey on Friday. But putting all of that aside, Crowley was incredibly charming. If he’d thought Crowley was queer in any way, he might have thought that he was flirting, but he knew better. Crowley had natural charisma, and that’s all he was sensing. He had no indication that Crowley was interested in men. Besides, he and Crowley had exchanged a handful of texts since drinks, and there had been nothing at all that indicated flirting. It had mostly just been exchanges of information - although Crowley had mentioned twice that he was looking forward to this weekend. Aziraphale was encouraged by that - not because of any attraction he may or not be feeling, but because he hated the thought of Crowley coming along and being miserable about it. The fact that he seemed to be even a little excited about the prospect was comforting.

He had some serious doubts that his family was going to approve of Crowley, and he had some deep fears that his family was actually going to scare him away. The latter really shouldn’t matter, but he liked Crowley, he’d enjoyed their time at the pub and their ongoing text conversation. Ideally, he’d like to come out of the other side of this with a friend he could call on sometimes. If his family was awful to Crowley, he’d likely want nothing to do with Aziraphale anymore. He wouldn’t be the first friend Aziraphale had lost because the Eastgates were rude. But he hoped very much that Crowley was made of stronger stuff.

Actually, Aziraphale knew beyond any shadow of doubt that his family was going to disapprove of Crowley. Not only because they thought he was gay, they would be unhappy about the fact that he was a mechanic, too. He hoped, probably futilely, that the fact that Crowley was a high-end mechanic - and business owner - might mitigate things, but he knew better. His family was likely to be snide to Crowley, the way they were with everyone they thought was beneath them (he was reminded of Bee for a moment) and Aziraphale was determined to be as nice to him as he possibly could, to counter it. But he was also determined not to throw himself at Crowley. Aziraphale was definitely attracted, but he couldn’t possibly act on said attraction. Crowley would certainly run if he got the idea that Aziraphale had caught feelings. He had told himself, though, that in front of his family, he could look at Crowley admiringly. Perhaps even hold his hand, if Crowley was willing to play along. It would be nice to let a little bit of his crush show.

But he was going to keep the knowledge that Crowley was straight at the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to-

There was a knock at the door, and his heart jumped into his throat with excitement and nerves. He got to his feet, smoothed his waistcoat and checked his reflection in the mirror, making sure he didn’t look atrocious. When he decided he looked as good as he was likely to, he went to the door and opened it, with a smile on his face.

Crowley was standing there, in all his glory, slouched in a pose that was undeniably sexy, giving Aziraphale a smile that was almost devilish.

“Hi there,” he said, grinning.

Aziraphale went wibbly all over. “Hello, dear,” he said. It was all he felt capable of.

“Sorry I’m late. I got caught up at work for a couple of minutes.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I can just call ahead and tell them that we’re going to be late for dinner.

“Nah, no need. We’ll make up the time on the road. Got a bit of a lead foot, me,” he said with a grin that made Aziraphale feel even more wibbly. “You ready to go?”

“I am, yes. Let me grab my bag and I’ll be right with you,” he said, then stepped over to the couch and grabbed his suitcase and the hanging bag that contained his tuxedo. “Alright,” he said to Crowley. “I’m ready.’

“Here, let me take those for you so you can lock the door,” Crowley said, taking the bags out of his hand. Aziraphale was very grateful, and intended to take them back after he locked the door, but Crowley just pulled them out of his reach. “Nah-ah,” he said, grinning. “I’m carrying them. Isn’t that what a good boyfriend would do?”

Aziraphale felt himself flushing. “Oh. Yes. I guess perhaps it is.” In truth, he had no idea what a good boyfriend would do, because he hadn’t had one in… a very long time.

“Come on, then,” Crowley said, smiling. “Your chariot awaits.”

Aziraphale followed him down the stairs to the pavement, and then when Crowley turned right. “Are you sure I can’t help you carry that?” he asked.

“Nah,” Crowley said, hoisting one bag a little higher. “I’m pretty strong, to be as scrawny as I am.”

“I don’t think you’re scrawny,” Aziraphale replied, a little perplexed.

Crowley grinned. “That makes you an outlier. Here we are,” he said, coming to a stop beside a very old, very nice car. He stood by politely while Crowley gently put his bags into the back, next to his own bags, then gave a smile when Crowley held the passenger door open and gestured for him to get in.

Within a couple of minutes, they were headed for the M25. Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure what to say, and was just trying to think of something appropriate when Crowley chuckled. “You’re not like other people, are you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Aziraphale said, feeling unsure.

Crowley was taking a left. “Most people, when they see my car, have some kind of reaction to it. There’s usually a lot of oohs and aahs and a fair amount of disbelief. But you took it in stride.”

“I’m very sorry,” Aziraphale said. “I didn’t mean to be churlish.”

“No, don’t get me wrong. I like it. Everyone makes a big deal out of it, and that’s fun for a while, but it kind of gets old. Anyway, her name is Mary, and she’s my pride and joy. I restored her myself.”

“She is an absolutely lovely car,” Aziraphale said. “And you did a remarkable job. I’d never have known she hadn’t just been driven off the car lot in the thirties.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should make a joke, then decided to go for it. “The only thing that could make her better was if she was yellow.”

Crowley barked a laugh, which made Aziraphale feel better. “Nah, not yellow. Yellow is too pretty. I like her black, like my soul.”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to giggle, and they rode on a little ways, until Aziraphale said, “So, ah, I was thinking that we probably need to know a bit more about each other, in case people ask. And we also need to come up with a story of how we met.”

The red haired man got a smile on his face that Aziraphale was coming to recognize as mischievous. He was also starting to love it.

“How about this,” he said. “There I was, doing my pole dance routine in my g-string, when I suddenly realized I was out of body glitter. This angel came walking in…”

Aziraphale couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of him, and he could tell that Crowley was pleased with that.

“Well, as fascinating a story as that might be, I’m afraid my family might not approve.”

“No?” Crowley said cheekily.

“No, I rather think not,” Aziraphale said, grinning.

“Alright, how about this one: I came to watch Fergus play footie, and you also came, and you were getting one of those jumbo lagers from the concession stand. Also a hot dog, with every condiment you could think of on it. Some drunk came stumbling by and was about to bump into you, but I heroically saved you from getting splashed by the shitty lager and getting ketchup all over yourself.”

Aziraphale giggled again. “Yes, that might work, but the times I’ve been to see Fergus play, I’ve been in the box. No need to go to the concession stand.”

“Ah, yeah, that must be nice. Well, let me ask you, then. What’s your ideal meet-cute?”

“Meet-cute?” Aziraphale asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah. In a movie or book or whatever, when two people meet each other and the music swells and they look into each other’s eyes, and suddenly you want them to be together?”

“Ah,” Aziraphale said, feeling a trifle embarrassed. “I had - I had never heard it called that, despite being a bookseller.”

“No problem,” Crowley said cheerfully. “But what kind of meet-cute would you like?” Before Aziraphale could think of anything, he said, “Oh! I know! We could say that I saved you from the coppers.”

Aziraphale was deeply amused at this little game. “From the police?”

“Yeah. You were out someplace, and didn’t realize you didn't have your wallet. The manager was yelling at you, tempers were flaring, you were probably yelling back. Then I swooped in gallantly and bought your crepe for you.”

“How do you know I would be eating crepes?”

Crowley grinned. “You look like the sort of man that enjoys a good crepe. But at any rate, I paid for your meal, and when you offered to pay me back, I traded you for your number. The rest is history.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale said, smiling brilliantly. This was immensely fun. “I like that one, but perhaps we should workshop a couple more ideas.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley said. “How about - a rainstorm!”

“A rainstorm?”

“Can’t go wrong with a rainstorm!” Crowley said.

“Well, I like a good cozy read in the rain, but I’ve never thought of it as romantic.”

“Are you kidding?” Crowley said. “Rainstorms are the most romantic things in the world! The sky is grey and threatening, but it hasn’t rained, so people are lulled into a false sense of security. All of the sudden - Bam! - rainstorm. Two strangers duck under the same awning, soaking wet, looking into each other’s eyes -and vavoom.”

Aziraphale was laughing again, and Crowley seemed heartened by that. “So we’ll tweak that a little and say I’m out running an errand. A surprise shower is threatening, so I’ve got my collar up and head down. I’ve got to stop at a crossing. There is a distant rumble of thunder and I feel a few drops on my hair. Just as I’m thinking I’m going to look like a drowned rat, an umbrella reaches over my head. I look up. You’re protecting me like the angel you are. Our eyes lock. I’m worried I look like a dog that just had a bath, but you just smile at me…”

“Oh… oh my. That is romantic,” Aziraphale said, as charmed as he was amused.

“I’m telling you. Humans love to fall in love in the rain. Or we could say that you had a flat tire and I pulled over and helped you. Or we could say that we met while we were robbing a bank. Two different criminals, robbing the same bank at the same time. What are the odds!”

“Well, I always dreamed of a life of crime,” Aziraphale said, grinning.

“All I could see of your face was your eyes, because of the ski mask, but I was instantly smitten.”

He was laughing again. “My goodness. Fergus said you had a mischievous streak.”

Crowley snorted. “I prefer to be thought of as a demon. Very sinister. Sowing chaos and disorder. Nice is a four letter word.”

“Of course it is, dear,” Aziraphale said indulgently. “He had told me that you liked playing pranks.”

“I do, yeah. Pranks are very dastardly.”

“I’m sure.”

“In uni, I convinced my flatmate that we had a third flatmate that he never saw. All year.”

Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look. “How on earth?”

“We were originally supposed to have a third, but it fell through. But my bed was a bunk bed, so I’d mess it up and claim that the fake roommate had just left. I sent some mail to ‘Jason’, the roommate I invented, and left it for my other roommate to find. And occasionally I’d steal food, just to blame it on the fake roommate.” Crowley grinned again. “I still have the odd itch to glue coins to the ground.”

“You do not,” Aziraphale said, thrilled.

“I do too. I’ll glue a pound to the pavement and then lean against a building nearby and watch people try to pick it up. It’s funny as hell. The hardest part is not laughing uproariously and giving myself away.”

“You really are wicked, my dear.”

Crowley was grinning. “Thank you. You never like to cause mischief?”

“Oh, no. I’m the most boring of the boring, a very straight arrow.”

“Nah,” Crowley said. “I don’t believe that. I can see the sparkle of mischief in your eyes.”

“Well, I suppose I do do magic tricks.”

“That’s not mischief, it’s entertainment. I’m talking about spreading a little chaos.”

“No, I’m not a very chaotic person. I wasn’t raised that way.”

Crowley now had a knowing gleam in his eye. “I saw that look.”

“What look?”

“You got a shifty expression just now. I saw it.” Aziraphale was very surprised that Crowley had read him so well, but he didn’t have time to be surprised before Crowley was urging him, “Go on, tell me. I promise not to tell anyone.”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Well, I may have put itching powder in Gabriel’s pants drawer when I was around eleven.” Crowley cackled gleefully, and Aziraphale went on. “It was less about chaos than revenge, though. He burned my journals.”

“What a prick,” Crowley said. “I already don’t like this guy much, and I haven’t even met him.”

“Well, there’s not a tremendous amount to like, for a normal person. He is exceptionally good looking, though.”

Crowley scoffed. “That won’t sway me.”

Aziraphale felt a pang at that, seeing it as confirmation that Crowley wasn’t queer. That was probably a reminder he needed, to be honest. He was getting a little too comfortable with Crowley already, and that was a bad idea.

“But anyway,” Crowley said. “We need to decide on a backstory. Which of those stories do you think your family would like best?”

“Well, I was just thinking that we could say that Fergus introduced us, since that’s close enough to the truth.”

“Awh,” Crowley said, pretending to be put out. “You don’t want to have a little fun with it?”

“My family and fun don’t really mix, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, why don’t you tell me a little more about them?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I can, but I’m afraid you’re going to want to turn right around and take me home.”

“Promise I won’t. Tell me.” Aziraphale was thinking of something to say, then Crowley amended, “First, let’s start with the stuff that pertains to me. What do they know about me?”

“Well, I first mentioned that I had a boyfriend in the early autumn last year, but didn’t give them any details. They wanted me to bring said boyfriend to Christmas, but I lied and said that he had family obligations. But I couldn’t get out of this one. So Fergus helped me find you.”

“Do they know my name or anything?”

“They do, they know your name, and that you’re a mechanic. We’ve been dating for about seven months, as far as they know. But that’s all they know. I’ve been very light on detail - for a lot of reasons.”

“That’s understandable. And you’ve never brought a bloke home before?”

“No, I haven’t,” Aziraphale said, a little shyly. “Except for Fergus, which was not remotely romantic. They… well, they don’t outwardly disapprove, really, but I don’t exactly feel the warm embrace of my family very often.”

“Hmm,” Crowley said, sounding pensive. “Tell me about your immediate family, or whoever is going to be there.”

“I’m not quite sure what to tell you. My parents are Frances and Derek, and my brother is Gabriel. He’s a couple of years older than me, and he likes to use that as something of a cudgel to boss me around.” He brightened a little. “I do have a little sister, Muriel.”

Crowley smiled. “Your whole tone changed when you mentioned your sister. You must love her.”

“Oh, I do. I truly do. She and my cousin Anathema are the best parts of my family.”

“Will they be there?”

“Yes. Muriel is coming late tomorrow evening, and I don’t know when Ana will be there. She tends to be a bit of a free spirit, flitting in and out as she pleases.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale believed he was genuine. “So let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“You told me yesterday that you wanted me to be decorative and nice, I believe were the words. And that you wanted someone attentive.”

“I… well, that is my dream partner, yes. Not necessarily the decorative part…I shouldn’t have said that and I’m sorry.”

Crowley was grinning. “It’s fine. But I’d like to probe that just a little bit more. Can you tell me what you’re hoping to get out of this? I don’t mean that to be rude, I’m just trying to figure out what you need and how I can fit that need.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking without being embarrassing. Finally, he decided to go for it - a little. “Honestly, I’m trying to prove to my family that I’m worthy. That I’m not quite the hopeless loser they seem to think I am. And I thought that… I thought that if I could convince them that someone like you could be happy with someone like me... Well, I just…” He paused for a moment, unsure what else to say.

“So you want me to be happy with you? That’ll be easy,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale flushed in spite of himself. “But we probably need to talk about PDA in front of your family.”

“I, ah, I don’t think I’ll be asking you for much in that arena. My family frowns on public displays under nearly all circumstances, and certainly when they’re queer.”

“Hmmph,” Crowley said. “Well, I have to tell you that being able to put my arm around you or hold your hand would go a long way towards proving to them that I’m happy with you. It’s going to be a little more difficult to get that message to sink in if we’re acting like we barely know each other.”

“We do barely know each other,” Aziraphale said, “but I take your point. I, ah, I think that holding hands and putting an arm around each other would be acceptable from time to time.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said, grinning, merging onto the M25. “That’s just perfect.”

Chapter Text

The last hour and a half of the drive was filled with the two of them getting to know each other as well as possible in the short time they had. But, much to his surprise, everything he learned about Aziraphale, he liked. He was warm, funny, kind, downright angelic and bitingly intelligent. Crowley was a little surprised that conversation with Aziraphale never dragged or was dull. They were able to talk about a variety of topics, and find common ground on all of them. He was also delighted that Aziraphale seemed genuinely interested in the things he was saying: it was clear from talking to him that Aziraphale had no knowledge of vehicles at all, but he still engaged with the conversation and was graceful when Crowley instructed him.

With every mile, Crowley felt his attraction grow.

He was slightly concerned, though, about what he was walking into. The Eastgates sounded like the worst sort of snobs. Crowley suspected that Aziraphale was minimizing a bit, probably out of love and loyalty. The only people he’d spoken warmly about in his family were his sister and his cousin. He had also mentioned a gardener that he was very fond of, and that his nanny when he was a child had loved him. It didn’t sound, however, like his parents or brother had been very warm with him, and that his upbringing had been fairly cold. Crowley would have expected that to make him anxious and insecure. Admittedly, Aziraphale was anxious, but the situation they were walking into was very anxiety-inducing. He didn't, however, seem overly insecure. He spoke of having a wide variety of friends, and when Crowley asked him about his dating history, he hadn’t been effusive, but there didn’t seem to be any glaring red flags.

Honestly, with every passing minute, he was liking this man more and more. He couldn’t deny anymore that he was attracted - and rather powerfully so. And he was very much looking forward to holding Aziraphale’s hand, putting his arm around him - and perhaps stealing a kiss at some point. Time would tell. But he’d had the thought in the last twenty miles or so that, depending on how the next few days went, he’d very much like to ask Aziraphale out on a real date. And Aziraphale wasn’t exactly throwing himself at him - he was actually rather reserved and seemed a touch shy - but Crowley sensed that there was at least some attraction on Aziraphale’s end. He was hoping to grow that over the next five days.

Aziraphale, along with the satnav, directed Crowley to turn right onto a narrow lane, telling him that was the entrance to Tadfield Manor. Crowley did so, and he could see the manor about a half-mile in the distance. It was large and seemed imposing, but Crowley told himself that was ridiculous. The house wasn’t imposing - he was probably sensing the impending bullshit from the inhabitants of said house.

He was nervous, more nervous than he wanted to admit, but he was equally determined to do a good job for Aziraphale, to make him proud. He was hoping that things went well, for Aziraphale’s sake, but he also hoped that circumstances would work out so that he could ask for a date. He grew more hopeful about that with every mile.

Crowley pulled the Bentley to a stop in front of the house, in the circle drive, and noticed that Aziraphale was anxious. “Hey,” he said gently, putting his hand on Aziraphale’s forearm.

Aziraphale looked over at him. “Yes?”

“This is gonna be fine. Alright? We’re going to have a good time. It’s gonna be great.”

“Yes, of course,” Aziraphale said with a smile that was somewhat brittle. “Shall we go?”

Crowley frowned a little, but got out of the car with the intention to open the door for Aziraphale. He didn’t get the chance. Instead, Aziraphale opened his own door, so Crowley opened the rear and pulled their bags out. He carried one of Aziraphale’s, so he wouldn’t be bogged down in case he needed to give hugs or something.

Before they got to the stoop, the door opened, and a man stood there. He was about a decade older than he and Aziraphale, of average height, with grey hair that was arranged in a really stupid way. He was grinning, but there was something about his smile that seemed forced. “Oh, hello, Mr. Aziraphale.”

“Hello, Furfur,” Aziraphale said, stepping inside. Crowley followed, and then immediately felt his eyes get wide. They were standing in a spacious foyer that was very, very elegant. There was an expensive, tasteful wallpaper over the chair rail, and a couple of classical portraits hanging in frames. In the center of the foyer was a round table that perfectly matched the parquet floor, and staircases leading upstairs on each side. It really was absolutely beautiful - and more than a little intimidating.

“It’s good to see you,” Aziraphale was saying.

“Good to see you, too, sir.” Furfur gave Crowley a raking up and down look that Crowley recognized immediately. “Who is your friend?”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale said, setting down the bag. “This is Crowley, my… boyfriend. Crowley, darling, this is Furfur.” Crowley felt a little thrill at ‘darling’ he tried not to think about for the moment. “He’s been the butler here for the last twenty years.”

“Twenty-two, but who’s counting?” Furfur said with a toothy, flirtatious grin. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Crowley.”

“Likewise,” Crowley said. He could sense that this Furfur was attracted, and he wasn’t especially displeased, but he wasn’t remotely interested. He wouldn’t have been, even if Aziraphale wasn’t in the picture.

“Where are my parents?” Aziraphale asked.

“Your mother is in the blue parlor with Gabriel, sir.”

“Would you mind handling our bags, Furfur?”

“Not at all, sir. Dinner will be ready shortly,” he said, giving Aziraphale a nod.

“Thank you. Come on, darling,” Aziraphale said, and oh, yeah. He really liked being called ‘darling’.

“See ya around,” Crowley said, then followed Aziraphale down the corridor, towards what he assumed was the blue parlor. He was frankly a little amazed that anyone could remember which room was which. They must have passed ten doors before Aziraphale came to a stop a few feet away from another one.

“Are you alright?” Crowley asked in a very soft voice.

“I am, yes,” Aziraphale said, although Crowley could see the anxiety in his eyes. “I’m just quite nervous about introducing you to my family.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Crowley said, then, feeling daring, he reached for Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale’s eyes widened, but it was only a moment before his face softened and he curled his fingers around Crowley’s hand. Crowley felt something joyful when he did, and couldn’t help his smile. “I’m going to be with you the whole time. I won’t leave you.”

“Thank you, Crowley. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You don’t have to. But come on, let’s do this.”

Aziraphale gave a brief nod, then started walking towards the door. Crowley was gratified that he didn’t let go of his hand.

His first thought upon entering was that the blue parlor was aptly named. It was a spacious room (he suspected all the rooms in this house would be spacious), and the walls were painted and wallpapered in what Crowley could only describe as a cross between cadet and powder blue. There were paintings on the wall here, too, and more than a couple of gold accents. The furniture looked fancy - and spindly. Not the kind of furniture that Crowley would have chosen. Everything Crowley had seen about this house thus far screamed ‘money’ - but not ‘warmth’. It was more than a little unsettling.

“Hello, Mother,” Aziraphale said from beside him. “Hello, Gabriel.”

Crowley finally turned his attention to the people in the room, sitting on the spindly furniture. He noticed the man first, and his primary thought was that this man personified ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. He had classical features, he appeared broad and well built, and his eyes were violet. It was actually a little hard to believe that he was Aziraphale’s brother: they looked very, very dissimilar. Crowley also got the distinct impression, based solely on looks, that Gabriel was a douche. A very handsome douche, but a complete twatwaffle nonetheless. As handsome as Gabriel was, Aziraphale was much better looking, in Crowley’s opinion.

“Welcome home, Aziraphale,” said the other person in the room, and Crowley turned to look at the woman speaking. It was very evident that this was Aziraphale’s mother at first glance: she had lovely features, like Aziraphale, and pale blond hair. But that was where the similarity ended. Aziraphale exuded comfort and kindness, while this woman was chilly and almost imperious.

“It’s good to see you, Mother,” Aziraphale said, releasing his hand and going to kiss her cheek. He noticed that the woman didn’t rise to hug him, and just accepted a little air kiss. “And it’s good to see you, too, Gabriel.”

Gabriel didn’t acknowledge him, he was staring at Crowley. “And this must be your… fellow.”

“Yes, this is him.” Aziraphale stepped back over and put his hand on Crowley’s arm gently. “Anthony J. Crowley, I’d like you to meet my mother, Frances Eastgate, and my brother, Gabriel.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Crowley said as cordially as he could, stepping forward to shake their hands. “Aziraphale has said such lovely things,” he lied.

Frances’ grip was exceptionally weak, like you might expect from a princess. By contrast, Gabriel’s grip was so strong, it was a little painful. He made a concerted effort not to wince.

“Charmed,” Gabriel said in something close to a drawl as he released Crowley’s hand. Then he looked at Aziraphale. “At least you made an effort to make him presentable.”

Crowley bristled a little, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to ruin things for Aziraphale.

“You’re looking well, dear,” Frances said, with what probably passed for a kind smile in this house.

“Could have hit the gym, though,” Gabriel broke in. “This is my wedding - to the daughter of an Earl. And you’re going to ruin the photos!”

“It’ll be fine, darling,” Frances said with a placating look for the son that Crowley could clearly tell was her favorite. “We’ll just put him at the back.”

Crowley had been here for a total of seven minutes, and he was already near his boiling point. He looked at Aziraphale, to see how he was handling this, and Aziraphale seemed to be taking it in stride. It pissed him off further that Aziraphale was so used to this treatment he didn’t even react.

“Did Furfur get you situated?” Frances asked.

“Oh, yes. He was supervising putting our bags in our rooms.”

“Room,” Frances corrected.

Crowley felt every bone in his body go on alert.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, as you know, I converted your bedroom into a sewing room when you moved out…”

“Right, yes. That very weekend, if I remember. But I had expected he and I to be given guest bedrooms.”

“And you will be in a guest bedroom. But with Michael’s family coming, we simply didn’t have enough room for your Mr. Crowley to have his own room without opening up the west wing. I’d like to refrain from doing so, particularly because we may need the rooms there for more important guests, in case some of the people who declined change their minds.”

“Or we could put him in the servant’s quarters,” Gabriel piped up. “Which is what I was advocating for.”

Crowley ground his teeth, but managed to get out, “I’m happy to sleep wherever.”

“Well, we had a long talk about it, and decided that we’re going to allow the two of you to share a room,” Frances said.

“It’s the rose room,” Gabriel snarked. “You’re gonna love it.”

Crowley knew at that moment that he was going to hate it.

Frances continued. “But I don’t think I need to tell you that we will be most… displeased if you do something that wouldn’t be edifying to the kingdom while sharing said room. I would urge you to act as if God is watching you at all times.”

Gabriel scoffed, as if nothing had ever been more ridiculous, and something about it got under Crowley’s skin even more. He was just on the verge of telling all of them exactly what he thought - and to fuck off - when he heard someone behind him.

“Ah, I see the prodigal son has returned.”

He and Aziraphale both turned towards the door to find an older man standing there, his hair and short facial hair white. Crowley assumed this must be Aziraphale’s father. He looked even more like his father than he did his mother, but this man had a look on his face that suggested Aziraphale and Crowley had stepped in dog shit and then tracked it all over his freshly mopped floor. Just as he had with Aziraphale’s brother and mother, he disliked him on sight.

Aziraphale gave a little smile that Crowley could tell was forced. “Hello, Father.”

The man turned and looked at Crowley coldly. “And you must be… the friend.”

Once again, Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley’s arm gently, and the touch was like a balm. It was grounding.

“Father, this is Anthony Crowley, my boyfriend. Crowley, this is my father, Derek Eastgate.”

It flashed through his mind briefly just how brave it was of Aziraphale to emphasize ‘boyfriend’ when his parents were clearly disapproving. Every minute, Crowley liked this man more.

He did his best to school his features and walked over to Derek, his hand extended. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”

To his great surprise, Derek inspected his hand before he took it. “Ah, yes. I’m pleased to see that you’re not as greasy as one might expect.”

“I’m sorry?” Crowley said, with barely contained rage.

“Most people in your… profession have blackened, oily hands. I’m quite pleased that you don’t.”

That was it. Crowley had fucking had it. He was ready to spit fire and tell all of them to go straight to hell, then bundle Aziraphale in the car and take him back to London where these people could never bother him again.

But before he got a word out, there was a clearing of the throat from behind Derek, and all eyes turned to Furfur. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Yes, Furfur?” Frances said.

“The rose room is ready for Mr. Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley, if you’d like me to take them up.”

Crowley was even more annoyed that they were talking around the two of them, like they were non-entities, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Ah, yes,” Frances said. “Why don’t the two of you go upstairs and freshen up for dinner. It will be served promptly at seven, so you have a few minutes to get yourselves together.”

“Looking presentable,” Derek said coldly, and Crowley stared daggers at him, even though he wasn’t acknowledging them.

“If you’ll come this way, sirs,” Furfur said, with a little bow and a gesture out of the room.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Aziraphale,” Frances said.

“Yes, we’ll see you shortly,” Aziraphale said. Crowley followed him out of the room silently, boiling with rage.

When they started climbing the staircase, Aziraphale said in a low voice, “Well, that went well, don’t you think?”

Crowley stared at him, stunned that he thought that had been acceptable, but all he said in return was, “We’ll talk more when we get to our room.”

“Alright.”

They followed Furfur down a long corridor until he stopped and gestured towards the open door. “Your room, sirs,” he said with a bow.

“Thank you, Furfur,” Aziraphale said kindly. Crowley just sort of grimaced.

They stepped into the room, and Crowley was immediately appalled. If you had sat him down and asked him what his style was, this was the exact opposite of the answer he’d give. There was pink everywhere - it looked like someone had painted the walls with pepto bismol, and then thrown up some tacky rose wallpaper. All of the furniture was even more spindly than the furniture in the lounge had been, and the bed looked to be antique and unsuitable for any kind of vigorous activity, covered with a very plush-looking duvet in soft pink and sage green. There was a gold vanity sitting in one corner, an elegantly painted screen in the corner, and one pink and green chair that looked unsuitable to sit on. Frankly, it was the most feminine room Crowley had ever seen in his life. The only masculine things in the room were their suitcases and garment bags, which stuck out like a sore thumb in the pastel hell he found himself in.

He just stood there and scowled at the room until Furfur said, “Your mother has requested that the door remain partially open during your stay, including overnight.”

“That ain’t happening,” Crowley snapped, unable to help himself. “To hell with that.”

Furfur looked surprised, and Crowley barely even noticed when Aziraphale dismissed the butler. He waited a little while after Furfur left, then walked over to peek out of the door, to make sure he was gone. He spotted Furfur at the end of the hall, about to go down the stairs, so he closed the door and wheeled around.

“Your family are the biggest bunch of prolapsed arseholes I’ve ever met,” he spat, not mincing words one bit.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale said, looking flustered, wringing his hands. “I did try to warn you.”

“Yeah, you did, but I don’t think you could have done anything to prepare me for this,” he said, now pacing the room, agitated. “I wasn’t expecting them to be warm, but they were the exact opposite of that. They were like fucking dry ice. I fully believe they’d have fucking spit on me if they’d had the chance.”

“The Eastgates are very opposed to spitting, but I take your meaning. And you’re right.”

“I don’t think they could have been any more insulting, honestly. But that’s nothing. That’s fine. I can deal with that. What I can’t deal with is the way they talk to you.”

Aziraphale looked shocked. “You’re worried about me?”

“Damn right I am! It pisses me off that you’re so used to this. You don’t deserve the way they talk to you. At all.” He let out a frustrated growl. “Fucking hell. I haven’t hit another human being in anger since I was seven, but I wanted to punch every last one of their lights out. Calling you fat and the ‘prodigal son’ and shit. And then to put us in this room that looks like Jane Austen threw up in it or some shit, just because we’re gay. Fuck!” Crowley shouted.

Aziraphale was still wringing his hands. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry, dear. Clearly I didn’t prepare you enough. If you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you at all. And I’ll still pay you the money.”

Crowley brushed aside the mention of the money, irritated by it, and turned to Aziraphale, an idea forming. “You know what I want? What I’d really love?”

“What’s that, dear? If I can give it to you, I absolutely will. It’s the least I can do for getting you into this mess.”

“I’d like you to let me off the chain, so to speak.”

Aziraphale looked confused. “What do you mean?”

The idea was gelling more and more. “I mean that they don’t like me. They don’t like you. And I’m fairly certain that nothing I do is going to make them like me. You’re their son, for fuck’s sake, and you’ve been trying to get them to like you for thirty-six years. It hasn’t happened. I have no chance, right?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“So I’m asking your permission to make them hate me,” he said with a grin.

Much to Crowley’s surprise, he didn’t automatically dismiss the idea. In fact, he looked curious. “What would that entail?”

“You’ll let me unleash my full demonic, mischievous self. I’d like to rile them up. Really get them going.” He thought for half a second and said, “It could be to your benefit.”

“How so?”

“Well, if you let me have free rein and show them what an awful, unspeakable person I am, the next person you bring home will automatically be a vast improvement.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that -”

“Alright, how about this one: if I get kicked out, it will be the perfect opportunity for you to leave, too.”

“I don’t especially want to get thrown out of my parents’ house,” Aziraphale said carefully.

Crowley backtracked immediately. “Then I’ll stop just shy of getting us thrown out. I won’t do anything major, just some minor fuckery. But I’m asking - I’m actually begging - please let me make them hate me.”

A smile grew across Aziraphale’s face. “I actually think it’s a fantastic idea.”

Crowley grinned. “You do?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very much looking forward to it. I just wonder if we should maybe do some discussing about it ahead of time.”

“What would you like to discuss?”

“Well, I have some ground rules. Or maybe parameters is a better word. Requests.”

“What are they? I’ll honor them.”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt, physically.”

“I’m not intending to hurt anyone, but can I hurt their feelings?”

“I encourage it,” Aziraphale said with a small, wicked smile. “I would also ask to be informed of any major, erm, fuckery that you have planned. Such as gluing coins to the pavement.”

“Damn shame I don’t have my coins. But yeah. I’ll likely fly by the seat of my pants a lot with this, but I’ll tell you what I have up my sleeve ahead of time if I possibly can.”

“I would also ask that your stories be at least vaguely plausible.”

“I don’t know about that one, angel. The more outlandish I am, the more baffled they’ll be.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point. In that case, I rescind that request. But I do have one last thing…”

“Tell me,” Crowley requested.

“I’d like us to have something we can say to each other that if one or the other says, we’ll stop what we’re doing, fuckery wise, and check in with each other.”

Crowley beamed. “First of all, I like the implication that you’re going to play along.”

“Well, of course I am. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you do all the work yourself?” Aziraphale said, smiling. “Besides that, this sounds like the most fun I’ve had in an age.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s going to be fucking hysterical. But back to the first thing: You want a safe word?”

His cheeks were flaming. “I do think that would be a good idea, yes. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea. What should the safe word be?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “It should probably be something easy to slip into -”

“Ducks,” Crowley said. “We can make it ducks. And if either of us says that word, we’ll drop the act immediately and talk to each other honestly. Sound good?”

“I think that sounds excellent, Crowley. Shall we shake on it?”

Crowley stepped forward and took Aziraphale’s hand, to shake it, and he did not miss the way electricity shot up his arm and jangled his brain. Oh, holy fuck, this was going to be the weekend of a lifetime.

And Crowley couldn’t wait.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was feeling a lot of things as he descended the stairs with Crowley a few minutes later, heading to dinner. It was a little hard to categorize them all. He was happy that Crowley was willing to stay - after the scene when they arrived, he’d been totally ready for Crowley to decide to leave. But Crowley had not only stayed, he’d come up with this plan to create shenanigans. That was where his emotions got complicated. On one hand, he never bucked his family, he never set out to make them angry or needle them. On the other hand, he had always wanted to. He’d wanted to be just a little bit rebellious. And now it seemed like he was getting that chance, with Crowley.

God help him, he was excited.

He wasn’t entirely sure what Crowley had planned for the dinner they were going to, but he was putting a tremendous amount of faith, trust, and hope in him. And though it was strange, he didn’t think that trust was misplaced. Aziraphale suspected that Crowley would likely know exactly how to get everyone’s nose out of joint while not creating too much trouble, and he had a feeling that this was going to be the most entertaining evening he’d had in a long time.

“Have you ever done this?” Crowley asked as they got to the bottom of the stairs.

“Done what?”

“Brought a bloke home.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t. I mean, Fergus has been around before…”

“Right, but not anyone… romantically?”

Aziraphale blushed. “No. For the longest time, it was because they were very disapproving of the whole idea of me being homosexual. But as time went on, they started to become more disapproving that I was single. Hence why I… told them about you.”

Crowley grinned. “I see. Well, I’m quite glad that you told them about me. Led me here.”

“Oh, dear, you can’t possibly mean that,” he said. “You’ve only been here thirty minutes, and nearly every member of my family has insulted you already.”

“Yeah, but I get to hang out with you,” he said, grinning. “So that’s a small price to pay.”

Aziraphale blushed again, although he wasn’t quite sure how to take that. It almost seemed like flirting, but Crowley was straight. Perhaps Crowley was one of those naturally flirtatious people? That seemed likely, given what Aziraphale knew about his personality.

“I do hope they’ll be a little more civil for the rest of the weekend.”

Crowley scoffed. “Doubt it. They don’t seem to be charmed by my winning personality thus far.” He grinned. “But then again, they ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Aziraphale felt a little thrill at that.

“Where’s the dining room?” Crowley asked, looking around at all the doors and rooms leading off the main foyer.

“Just this way. We’ll be there in a second.”

“Well, then, I guess it’s time for me to do this,” he said, and slipped his hand around Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale felt something race all over his body, something like an electrical charge, and part of him wanted to lecture himself for being attracted to Crowley. Crowley wasn’t remotely interested in anything romantic. But at the same time, he wanted to roll around in this feeling, like a small child in a field of flowers. It just felt lovely.

Then he saw the open door to the dining room, and he felt a twinge of anxiety. More than a twinge. He had avoided bringing anyone home for all these years… but now he had brought someone home. And he’d brought home someone like Crowley, which was a boon for him, no matter what they thought. His parents might not approve, but Aziraphale rather thought he’d landed himself a wonderful man.

Well, he would think that, if he had actually landed said man.

Crowley seemed to undergo a very subtle but very distinct transformation when they neared the dining room. It was almost like he had taken on a new personality - and Aziraphale could tell, without Crowley even saying a word. He could just feel the cockiness radiating off of him. It made him feel better, somehow. Like he was in good hands. It made him feel more powerful and confident.

But on top of that, heaven help him, it was sexy.

They came into the dining room to find his father and mother sitting down, with Gabriel pulling out his mother’s chair. Aziraphale felt a flash of nervousness, but Crowley seemed to be in his element. He walked Aziraphale over to a chair and pulled it out helpfully, giving Aziraphale a smile. “Here you go, angel.”

Aziraphale felt his heart twitter in his chest at the word ‘angel.’ Oh, how he’d love to have a nickname from Crowley. But he knew that this was just a put on for his family.

He took a seat in the chair, thanking Crowley politely, and got his napkin ready to lay in his lap. He caught a stern, disapproving look from his mother just before he heard his father say, “The napkin goes in your lap, Mr. Crowley.”

Aziraphale turned to his left to see Crowley sitting there with the linen napkin tucked into his collar, holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, like some kind of cartoon caricature. He looked very pleased with himself, then he gave Derek a falsely apologetic look. “Oh, it does? My bad,” he said, and put the napkin in his lap. Aziraphale barely stifled a laugh.

He looked down at his own plate to see that they were apparently using some of the better china tonight, the kind that they brought out when they had guests. Aziraphale was touched. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, maybe they’d be welcoming -

“So we decided to have just a casual dinner tonight,” Derek was saying, and Aziraphale recognized that tone. “We wanted to make you feel at home, Mr. Crowley, and we figured you wouldn’t be ready to jump into the deep end of proper etiquette yet.”

He turned to see how Crowley was taking this jab, and found him with a smile spreading across his face that could only possibly be described as ‘devilish’. It gave Aziraphale another little thrill.

“Of course,” Derek went on, looking smug and condescending. “It won’t be nearly this casual when the Earl and Countess are here. We will be conducting ourselves much more formally at that time.”

“Makes sense to me,” Crowley said easily. “I can be real classy, when I need to be.”

“Well, let’s hope that’s accurate.”

“Shall we bless the food?” Frances said serenely.

Aziraphale bowed his head, just as he had his entire life, while his mother started the prayer. But he opened his eyes to look to his left and see Crowley, who was apparently playing ‘this is the church, this is the steeple’ with his hands. Suddenly, Aziraphale had to stifle another laugh during the prayer.

Everyone at the table said ‘amen’ when Frances finished, but nobody said it more exuberantly than Crowley. And then Aziraphale nearly burst into laughter again when Crowley reached for the potatoes without asking anyone else.

“Are these real potatoes, or the powdered stuff you mix with water?” he asked, scooping an unholy amount of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“They’re real potatoes,” Gabriel said coldly.

“Ah, yeah. Should have figured a fancy bunch like you wouldn’t use the powdered stuff. Still, though, you should try it sometime. I like to mix mine with milk, and they’re great. Real posh-like. It comes in all kinds of flavors.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Derek said, his voice tinged with disdain.

The next few minutes were relatively uneventful, while everyone prepared their plates and tucked in. Crowley didn’t do anything outrageous for a couple of minutes, and Aziraphale was just starting to wonder about it, when Frances said, “So, Aziraphale, how did you two meet?”

“Fergus introduced us,” Crowley interrupted, with a mouth full of food.

Aziraphale’s brother and father looked appalled, but Frances screwed up her face and seemed to be soldiering on. “Oh, you know Fergus? How?”

“I’m his mechanic.”

Aziraphale’s family exchanged a look, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. But he didn’t get long to dwell on it before Crowley launched into a tale.

“Yeah, I’ve been working on Ferg’s cars for a long time, but one time last summer he invited me to this party he was having at his house. It was nice, I guess, a bit hoity toity for my taste, but I saw this angel standing across the room. I begged Fergus to introduce me, but he insisted that I wouldn’t be Aziraphale’s type. I finally wore him down, and he took me over to meet the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. I was taken immediately, but he played hard to get,” he said, grinning at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale thought quickly, trying not to blush. “Ah, yes. You see, I liked Crowley a great deal when I met him, but he didn’t seem like my type.”

“He doesn’t typically go for the bad boys,” Crowley supplied with a cocky grin. “He was afraid I was going to be a little too wild for him.”

“I was, yes,” Aziraphale agreed.

“Then how did you end up together?”

“I chased him. Wooed him,” Crowley said, sounding smug. “I like to tell people that I took him down like a wounded gazelle.”

Derek looked deeply disapproving. “And how, exactly, does a mechanic go about wooing someone?”

Gabriel snorted. “It’s not like a bookseller is much better than a mechanic.”

Aziraphale felt himself ruffle, but Crowley’s smile grew even more mischievous. “Well, to be honest, I tried a lot of the typical methods: I sent him flowers, I wrote him some poetry -”

“You wrote poetry?”

“He did, yes,” Aziraphale supplied defensively. “And it was quite lovely.”

“Mhm,” Crowley said, smug. “I’ve got a gift. But I think what tipped him over the edge was when I pulled a Lloyd Dobler. That gets ‘em every time, that one.”

Aziraphale had no idea what ‘pulling a Lloyd Dobler’ meant, but he wasn’t about to argue. He was enjoying the disgruntled looks on his family’s faces.

Derek seemed to be done with Crowley. “So, Gabriel, Michael and her parents will be arriving tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, sounding strained. “The Earl and Countess will be arriving in the mid to late afternoon, and they’re bringing my intended.”

Derek and Frances’ faces were the complete opposite of what they had been. They looked pleased and relaxed now. “I know I’ve told you, son, but we’re very proud of you for making such an advantageous match,” Frances said.

“Indeed,” Derek added. “And I might add, Aziraphale, that the Earl and Countess know that we have a homosexual son. We haven’t kept you a secret. But I would not appreciate any flamboyance while they are here, if you catch my meaning.”

Aziraphale nodded automatically, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley’s smile grow even more wicked, and he knew that shenanigans were incoming.

“Speaking of tomorrow’s arrivals,” Frances said, breaking into the moment. “Muriel will be home for dinner tomorrow night.”

“I’m very much looking forward to seeing her,” Aziraphale said.

“And I’m excited to meet her. Aziraphale has said such nice things.”

“Yes, well, he is quite fond of her,” Frances said dismissively. “When is Anathema supposed to arrive, Aziraphale?”

“She said that she’d be here before lunch on Friday,” he supplied.

“Is she bringing her young man? I believe his name was Norman?”

“It’s Newton, and I’m not sure. She didn’t tell me.”

“Well I do hope she brings him,” Frances said. “It’s so nice to meet the young peoples’ significant others.”

“Most of the time,” Derek muttered, and Aziraphale bristled. But he didn’t miss Crowley’s little chuckle.

“Oh, Gabriel, darling, I meant to tell you… the parish called and Rev. Cole isn’t available to do the service Sunday. There’s been a death in his family, he’ll be in Bristol.”

“Are they sending a replacement?”

“They are, yes, but they’re not sure who is available.”

“As long as someone shows up,” Derek said.

“Indeed.”

The rest of dinner progressed in much the same manner: his family talking about all sorts of topics pertaining to the wedding, and Crowley occasionally popping into conversation with something moderately inappropriate. It was honestly the most fun that Aziraphale had had at his parents’ house - well, ever. He was having a wonderful time and looking forward to dessert, when Crowley picked up his napkin and made a show of wiping his mouth.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Eastgate - or maybe Mum and Dad?” Frances and Derek looked mortified. “I have to tell you that that was one of the finest meals I’ve ever eaten. I think I’m ready for dessert.”

“Oh, yes,” Frances said. “We have a couple of things to offer -”

Crowley spoke over her, turning to Aziraphale and saying. “What say you, angel? Want to go give the mattress a test drive?”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks go up in flames, and he just barely kept from bursting into laughter. He couldn’t help his smile, though.

“I do think I’m ready to retire, yes.”

Crowley stood up, knocking his chair back rudely, and Aziraphale got up a little more politely, looking at his parents and brother. All of them looked horrified.

“If you’ll excuse us, please,” he said. Then his face broke into an even wider smile when Crowley reached for his hand and practically dragged him out of the room.

They held hands all the way to the foot of the stairs, walking quickly to the point of running, and Aziraphale was struggling to keep from bursting into giggles. Crowley looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Once he seemed to think the coast was clear, he grinned at Aziraphale. “How was that?”

Aziraphale couldn’t contain it any longer. He started giggling. “My dear! That was fantastic! Did you see the looks on their faces?”

Crowley also giggled. “Yeah. Your dad looked like he was about to grind his teeth to nubs.”

“He did!” Aziraphale agreed.

“But you, you were brilliant!” Crowley praised.

“Oh, stop.”

“You were!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You played your part perfectly. They would have just written me off without your help. You were a natural.” He knocked Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We make a good team, yeah? A group. A pair.”

Aziraphale felt himself blushing. “We do, yes, I think so.”

Crowley gave him a grin, then reached ahead of him to open the door to their bedroom. Aziraphale passed by him, giving a small smile. He didn’t miss when Crowley deliberately shut the door behind them.

Suddenly, Aziraphale was very nervous. There was only one bed in this bedroom, and it wasn’t especially large. He and Crowley were meant to share it - and he had only known Crowley for five days! For the first time, he was having second thoughts about this.

“I, um, shall I change in the ensuite?” Aziraphale asked in a voice he hoped wasn’t too shy.

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, you do that, and I’ll change out here,” Crowley said.

Without saying much, both of them went to their bags, opening them up and pulling out pyjamas. Aziraphale murmured a ‘back in a bit’ before he took his nightclothes into the loo to change into them.

He did his best not to think too much about the fact that he was about to share a bed with this man that he hardly knew - and was attracted to - under his parents’ roof. Instead, he tried to think about the way dinner had gone, and to perhaps brainstorm more shenanigans they could get into over the next few days. He had never been much of a mischief maker before, but now that he’d had a little taste of what it was like, he wanted more.

Those pleasant thoughts carried him through his bedtime routine, until it was time for him to come back out and get into the bed. He felt another flare of nerves as he stood there before the bathroom door, trying to work up his courage, and finally took a deep breath and opened the door.

Crowley was there, lying on the bed, propped against the pillows with one leg bent, looking at his mobile. But he smiled when Aziraphale came in. “Hi.”

Aziraphale swallowed his anxiety as best he could. “Hello to you.”

“I took this side of the bed, since that’s where I usually sleep, but I can switch, if you want to.”

“No, no. That’s quite alright. I usually sleep on this side of the bed,” Aziraphale said, coming to the side nearest the bathroom. He climbed into the bed a little cautiously, noting that Crowley had put his mobile down and shut off the lamp, settling in under the duvet. Aziraphale also shut the lamp off, pitching the room into darkness, and settled into bed, on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling.

He was wondering how on earth he was ever going to sleep like this and pondering taking some melatonin when he felt Crowley roll over towards him. Even in the dark, he could see Crowley’s smile. “Hi.”

Aziraphale gave him a smile in return. “Hello, dear.”

“I feel like I’m at a sleepover,” Crowley said. “Shall we braid our hair and talk about boys?”

He giggled. “I hear that sleepovers are quite fun, but I’ve never had one before.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were adjusting to the light, and he could tell Crowley was smiling. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Well, I’m delighted to introduce you to the concept in a hands-on way.” Aziraphale shivered a bit at ‘hands-on’. “Would you like to make a pillow fort?”

Aziraphale tittered, and he rolled over onto his side to face Crowley. His eyes had adjusted and he was thrilled when Crowley looked pleased by this. “I’m very glad you’re here with me.”

“I’m glad, too. So far, I’ve had a great time. And I’m sure it’s only going to get better.”

“Well, here’s hoping.”

“So your parents said that Michael and her parents will arrive tomorrow.”

“Yes, and Muriel.”

“We’ll have to make an impression,” he said, and waggled his eyebrows. Aziraphale laughed. “And Muriel is your younger sister that we like, right?”

Aziraphale was warmed by the fact that he used ‘we’ in that sentence, although he probably shouldn’t have been. “She’s absolutely precious. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I don’t know how she came from this family -”

“The same way you did. They managed to produce you, and you’re pretty great, too, you know. So I’m open to the idea of miracles.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Crowley looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. “So should we let Muriel know what we’re doing? Will she be scandalized?”

“I’d hate to get her in trouble if this goes south,” Aziraphale said. “And she’ll be delighted for me, no matter how boorish and uncouth you are.” Crowley’s eyes twinkled. “So I think it’s best not to include her.”

“It won’t make her uncomfortable that your parents and brother are being twats?”

“She won’t be surprised at all. But if she gets upset, we can tell her.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley said.

“Just be warned that she’s a terrible liar.”

Crowley was grinning again. “I imagine you are, too.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m a very skilled liar,” Aziraphale said, lying through his teeth.

Crowley’s grin grew. “There you go, lying to me. I can tell.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your nose grows.”

“Oh, you’re so silly.”

He was chuckling. “Yeah, I’m kidding. But you really aren’t a great liar. Know what, though? That just makes me like you more.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help a tiny sigh.

Crowley seemed to make himself a little more comfortable. “So what did young Aziraphale do for fun here?”

“Oh. You know. Normal things.”

“I doubt that anything about your upbringing was normal, to be honest.”

“Well, no, that’s fair.”

“C’mon,” he said, nudging Aziraphale a little. “Must have had a getaway. A thing you snuck off to do that they wouldn’t like?”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment.

Crowley’s smile was brilliant. “There’s that look again. C’mon. Were you naughty? Tell me you were.”

He sniffed playfully. “I don't know what you mean. I was a perfectly behaved child.”

“Actually, that’s not at all difficult to believe. But it makes what we’re doing even more fun. This is your first time bucking your parents, isn’t it?”

He hesitated for a moment. “It’s different. They were… displeased that I was gay, but there was nothing I could do about that. I am what I am. And they were equally displeased when I used my grandfather’s inheritance to open a shop. So I have bucked them before, but this… this is not something I’ve ever done.”

Now Crowley looked serious. “Are you enjoying it? Or do you want to stop?”

“No, no! I’m having a wonderful time. I’m just a little concerned that I might become afraid and want to back out. But I don’t really want to back out. I want to do this. Any fear I have will be momentary.”

“Well, I’ll make you a deal. When you’re feeling afraid, you tell me, alright? And I’ll reassure you.”

“I won’t be able to do that if we’re around my parents.”

“In that case, you just reach over and squeeze him my hand, and I’ll make excuses for you to leave. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for even a moment.”

Aziraphale felt softer than he ever had in his life. “Thank you dear. You don’t know what this means to me. I know I’m putting you out -”

“You’re doing no such thing. This is going to be the most fun thing I do all year, I’m sure of it. I’m already having the time of my life.”

“I’m having fun, too.”

Crowley grinned. “Good, because we have an entire lifetime’s worth of mischief to make.”

“I’m very much looking forward to it.”

Chapter Text

Thursday, 29 February

Crowley’s senses came online one by one as he woke up on Thursday morning, swimming up from the deepest recesses of sleep fairly slowly. He was warm and comfortable, he’d slept well - and he realized early on that he wasn’t at home, but he wasn’t alarmed by that for some reason. It took him another couple of seconds to realize where he was: he was at Tadfield Manor, with Aziraphale. That was a very pleasant thing, because he very much liked Aziraphale - and he was delighted to realize a couple of moments later that he was actually cuddling Aziraphale. That was even more of a pleasant thing, because Aziraphale was very soft and cozy and warm and comfortable. He also smelled fucking fantastic, although his smell was a little fainter now than it usually was. But Crowley loved it. He could get used to cuddling Aziraphale Eastgate - and he hoped very much that he did get used to it. For now, he was just pleased to be here with the angel while he breathed deeply and regularly, seeming to be at peace. Crowley was also at peace, with Aziraphale’s cushiony body pressed against -

He froze when he realized he had a hard on that could cut glass - and was poking Aziraphale in the rear.

Oh shit. That was not a good thing. Not at all. He needed to do something about that. Immediately.

As quickly as he could without making a scene and waking Aziraphale, Crowley withdrew from holding him, feeling a little pleased - and wistful - when Aziraphale made a small pouting sound in his sleep and shifted a bit. Crowley, for his part, rolled over the opposite way, so his back was to Aziraphale, and did his best to will his erection to subside. Just like him, however, his cock was stubborn to a fault, and it did not seem to want to cooperate. Nor did his brain - he was trying to think about cricket or taking apart a carburetor or even King Charles in his pants, but Aziraphale kept invading his brain, making his cock even harder.

Finally, after a few minutes, he got up, pulling the front of his t-shirt down to hide his erection in case Aziraphale woke up, and went to the ensuite, intending to take a shower.

The bathroom was very nice, albeit a little small, and he couldn’t help but notice as he disrobed that the shower was big enough for two people. That didn’t aid in making his erection subside, and when he stepped into the hot water, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Without thinking much about it, he got a little conditioner on his hand and wrapped it around his cock, closing his eyes as he stroked it, letting himself dissolve into a little fantasy.

Aziraphale was in the shower with him, and Crowley just stood there, staring helplessly while the water sluiced down his gorgeous, lush body. He wasn’t paying any attention to Crowley, was instead washing his hair with his back to him, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from pressing his body up against Aziraphale’s warmth, letting his cock cradle between Aziraphale’s arsecheeks.

”Oh, hello darling,” Aziraphale said, giving Crowley a thrill. Crowley ran his hands all over his love’s body, gliding all over his smooth, perfect skin, and started pressing kisses to his shoulder. Aziraphale wickedly ground his bum backwards against Crowley’s cock, then chuckled. “Seems as if you’re happy to see me.”

“I want you, angel,” Crowley rumbled against his neck, his hands still sliding all over him. “Please, please let me have you.”

“You can do anything you want to me, love.”

That was all Crowley needed to hear before he used his hands to turn Aziraphale around and kissed him, urgent and messy. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s shoulders and ground against him.

Crowley bit his lip, thinking about the way Aziraphale’s mouth would taste. God, he wanted to find out. But he also wanted to know…

Without a word, Crowley dropped to his knees in front of him, putting his gorgeous cock at eye level, and he pumped it for just a minute while he looked at it reverently. Aziraphale was looking down at him with hooded eyes, a little smile on his face, and Crowley had never wanted to please anyone the way he wanted to please this angel. So he opened his mouth, maintaining eye contact, and took Aziraphale’s fat cock into his mouth.

He barely bit back a whimper, and let his hand tighten around his cock.

“Ooh, darling,” Aziraphale cooed while Crowley got to work, setting up a good rhythm. “Your mouth feels just wonderful, love. You are so very good at this. I do rather like your mouth on me.”

Crowley sped up the motions of his hand as he thought of Aziraphale reaching up to grab him by the head.

“I love that you’re so EAGER,” Aziraphale praised, stroking his head with one hand, the other with a tight grip in his hair. “I love that you’re seeking to please me. And you do please me. I love your mouth a great deal. Tell me, Crowley, do you ever think about fucking me? Would you like to right now?”

The next thing he knew, Aziraphale had turned around and bent over, offering up his arse, and Crowley wasted no time before he got to his feet and lined his cock up with Aziraphale’s arsehole. “Oh, fuck, angel,” he moaned as he slid in. “It feels so good…”

Crowley tightened his hand and stroked faster. It wouldn’t be long now.

Aziraphale was bouncing back against him, his arse changing shape when it pressed against his hips, and oh, fuck, it was hypnotic. So fucking beautiful…

“Angel,” he moaned, fucking into him slowly and steadily, hoping to make it good. “I’m getting so close… I’m going to come…”

Aziraphale stood upright, arching his back, and pressed his shoulders against Crowley’s chest, reaching back to thread his fingers through Crowley’s hair and kiss him slowly. “Let go, darling. Let go and come for me. Come inside me, please…”

Crowley released with a whimper, his come spilling out of him and hitting the tile wall, feeling like it was coming from the nuclei of his cells. He came and came until he was too sensitive to continue, and then he slumped against the wall and let the water run all over him while he caught his breath.

Holy shit. That had been - holy shit. If that’s what an orgasm was like when he was just thinking of Aziraphale, what would it be like if he actually got to touch the angel? Honestly, he was a little afraid of the answer. He might very well go up in flames.

When he got some better control over himself, he pushed off the wall, grabbed the soap, and started lathering his body up. Now that his mind wasn’t fogged with lust, he was able to think a little more clearly. But he was still thinking of Aziraphale.

Honestly, he really just liked Aziraphale. He enjoyed being around him. Crowley had a great deal of experience dealing with rich ponces, in his line of work, and nearly all of them were utter arseholes. It was a near-universal trait in rich people, he’d found, to be condescending. And there was always, always, always an element of artifice in all of them. Just about every rich knob he’d worked for or with was fake as hell.

But Crowley detected none of any of that in Aziraphale. Aziraphale seemed like the most genuinely kind, gentle person. He was extremely intelligent, and he was also really, really funny, once you scratched the surface a bit. It was like Aziraphale had seen what rich people were like his whole life and decided that no, that was not going to be him or his life. And, to be honest, Crowley wouldn’t be at all surprised if that had factored into it: if Aziraphale’s gentility and kindness were a direct result of being exposed to arseholes in his formative years. He would be willing to bet money that Aziraphale had made a conscious choice to be a good person, had deliberately rejected the life he’d grown up in. Which meant that not only did he have a rebellious streak - that Crowley loved - but he also had used said rebellious streak to be kind. That was honestly the most attractive thing Crowley could imagine.

There was no sense denying it: Crowley had a serious thing for Aziraphale. But could there ever be anything between them? He had some hope that Aziraphale might be attracted to him, too - Aziraphale seemed to be a little flustered by him sometimes, and he’d caught Aziraphale giving him a couple of lingering looks. He’d also blushed prettily every time Crowley had reached over and took his hand, which was encouraging. So yeah, there was hope in that regard. He thought he might have a shot.

But he wasn’t sure whether he should try to make a move during this sojourn to the countryside, or whether he should play his role exactly as they’d discussed, and then ask Aziraphale for a date when they got back to London. There was a chance that he might say no, if he waited. But he didn’t know how to go about conducting a courtship while pretending to be a couple. It would be a fine needle to thread, and he knew it. Could he do it?

Of course he could. He could do anything. He knew he could do it. It might be a little like a scene in a spy movie where he was dodging lasers, but he was clever. He knew he could do it. And he was going to get started on wooing Aziraphale this very day - if he could figure out how to do it.

But for now, the water was starting to run a little cold, so he cut it off and grabbed a towel, running it all over his body and rubbing his hair aggressively. He realized - belatedly - that he had not brought clothes into the bathroom with him, and all he had was his pajamas or a towel. Aziraphale had been sleeping soundly, though, right? He should be okay to go back into the room with the towel. That would be fine, he decided.

So he picked up the pajamas and stepped out into the room, towel slung low on his waist. What he saw when he got there made him freeze in his tracks.

Aziraphale was standing at the foot of the bed, wearing only his pants. He was bent over, with his tartan-covered arse pointed at Crowley, and as Crowley watched, fascinated, he pulled his trousers up to cover that gorgeous, gorgeous arse.

“Ngk,” said Crowley, unable to help himself.

Aziraphale spun around to look at Crowley still barechested, and oh fuck, Crowley’s imaginings hadn’t done him justice. Not even close. Aziraphale was lush: curved gently in all the right places, with just the right amount of dark blonde chest hair, and the most perfect little pink nipples. He was soft, but he also looked solid, he looked strong, and Crowley couldn’t help but gulp. He was suddenly very, very grateful he had wanked in the shower.

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, flushing, and the rosiness blossomed on his chest. “Hello.”

“Ah, hi,” Crowley said, feeling incredibly self-conscious all of the sudden.

That self-consciousness grew when Aziraphale’s eyes raked all over his body. “My dear,” he said, still looking over Crowley with what Crowley devoutly hoped was admiration. “Your tattoos are simply stunning.”

Crowley looked down at himself, as if he had no idea what to expect, and saw his tattoos. “Ah, yeah. Thanks.”

“I knew you had tattoos, but I had no idea you had so many. Your entire arms are covered! And parts of your chest!”

“Ah, yeah,” Crowley repeated. “And my back. I’ll keep them covered in front of your family.”

Aziraphale gave him a grin that he was coming to recognize as his bastard grin. “Perhaps not. We can talk about it more.”

Crowley swallowed hard, again, because Aziraphale was still standing there shirtless. Oh, fuck, Crowley never wanted him to put clothes on again, not ever, he wanted to stand there and look at Aziraphale for the rest of his days…

He almost let out an involuntary whimper when Aziraphale seemed to realize his chest was bare and walked over to his side of the bed to pick up a vest, pulling it on. He managed not to make the noise, but his disappointment was sharp.

It took a moment, but he shook himself out of his reverie and went to his suitcase, putting his pajamas in and reaching for clothes. “What time do we, ah, what time are we expected? And to do what?”

“Well, I was going to tell you about that,” Aziraphale said, pulling on a shirt in robin’s egg blue that set off his eyes. “Why don’t I tell you about it while you get dressed? There’s a screen right there.”

Crowley turned around to see that indeed, there was a three-panel screen in the corner. “Yeah. Good idea. I’ll be right back,” he said, grabbing his clothes and going behind the screen, taking a minute to try to get himself under control. His eyes were closed and his head was rocked back when he said, “So there’s a plan?”

“Yes, indeed there is. Breakfast will be served in the breakfast room at eight, and while we’re encouraged to eat with the family, it’s not a requirement. So I’ll leave it up to you.”

“I feel like you should be calling the shots here,” Crowley said, pulling on his boxer briefs, and then his trousers. “You’re kind of running the show, yeah?”

“Oh, no, dear. I like to think of us as a partnership in this,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley melted a little. “Yeah, I like that idea. You and I, partners in shenanigans. So, uh… Speaking of shenanigans, what would you like to do today?”

“Well, first, I have a bit of pertinent gossip to tell you,” Aziraphale said. Crowley heard the squeaking groan of the bed as he sat down.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice a little strained, imagining Aziraphale on - and in - the bed.

“My father came to the room while you were in the shower.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he grinned in spite of himself. “He did, did he? Ol’ Derek deigned to come talk to you?”

“He did, indeed,” Aziraphale said, sounding amused.

“What did he want?” Crowley asked, pulling on his own shirt.

“Well, first he wanted to lecture me because our door was closed.”

Crowley circled out from behind the screen. “You’re joking?”

Aziraphale was in front of the mirror, buttoning up his waistcoat, and Crowley was treated to a view of his backside. It was a very, very nice view. “I’m not, no. He was quite huffy about that, in fact.”

He was grinning. “I notice that the door is closed again.”

“It is, yes,” Aziraphale said serenely, with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Did you tell him to fuck off?”

“Oh, no. I could never say that to one of my parents.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley said, backing off. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that you had absolutely refused to sleep with the door open. He demanded to know why, and I told him that you like it completely dark when you sleep. He huffed about it and told me to leave the door ajar, and I told him I’d run it by you.”

Crowley grinned at him. “So you’re a smooth liar, after all,” he said admiringly.

“I’m actually not. I nearly always get caught when I lie. My parents - it’s like they’re all-seeing or something. Omniscient.”

“That must have been obnoxious growing up.”

“It wasn’t very pleasant, no,” Aziraphale said. “But he had a request for me - and you.”

“What’s that?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were twinkling. “He instructed me to take you on a tour of the Manor, and he specified that he wanted me to show you the portraits.”

Crowley’s face screwed up in question. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he wants you to see the kind of family you’re dealing with,” Aziraphale said. “It’s a power move. He thinks you’re going to see portraits of our ancestors and be so awed that you’ll behave yourself.”

“Fat chance of that,” he scoffed. “If anything, that’s going to give me ammo to make more mischief.”

“I figured as much.”

“Plus, your family aren’t gentry, are they?”

“There are a handful of minor barons and knights, but we’re not descended from royalty. As a matter of fact, we’re descended from the village witch.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “You are?”

“We are, yes. And I’ll tell you all about it when I give you the tour - if you’re willing to go.”

“Does he want to take me on said tour?”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale said, laughing a little. “He wants as little to do with you as possible, I think. He’s just urging me to do this to modify your behavior.”

Crowley laughed, too. “Well, I will very gladly go on a tour of your childhood home. I’d love to. But it’s probably going to modify my behavior for the worse.”

“I do sincerely hope so,” Aziraphale said, with the bastard smile again. Crowley felt himself tumble a little more into something warm and cozy. Something he liked.

Fucking hell. He had the distinct sense that he was doomed to fall in love with Aziraphale Eastgate.

And God help him, he was fucking thrilled about that.

Chapter Text

Breakfast was relatively uneventful, from a shenanigans standpoint. Aziraphale’s mother was in the breakfast room when Aziraphale arrived with Crowley in tow, and she was cordial but aloof, which Aziraphale knew very well was just her way. Crowley was cordial back to her, and his mother left fairly soon after they arrived, wishing them a good day. Crowley’s only bit of snark was when she mentioned they should look at the artwork while leaving. He turned to Aziraphale with wide eyes and said, “You have portraits here, too?!”

Aziraphale was barely able to contain his laughter, and he didn’t miss his mother’s sniff.

After they ate their breakfast, Aziraphale led Crowley down the corridor, towards the portrait gallery, showing him artwork as they passed. Crowley was very complimentary towards the landscapes and still lifes that Aziraphale showed him, but made some manner of pithy (and funny) comment about all three of the portraits they passed in the corridor. Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh.

“Have I told you about Agnes?” Aziraphale asked as they got near the entrance to the portrait hall.

“No, I don’t think you have.”

“Oh. Well, Agnes was an ancestor that I think you’d like very much. She was a witch.”

“Oh, that’s right, you said you were descended from witches. Why would I like her?”

Aziraphale gave him a grin that was mischievous. “She got blown up at the stake.”

Crowley’s eyes widened, but he looked delighted. “She got blown up at the stake?”

“Oh, yes.”

“How, exactly, does one get blown up at the stake?”

“Well, as I told you, she was a witch,” he said, as they turned into the gallery. “She had the gift of prophecy. All of her predictions were accurate, and she wrote a book - that we’ll come back to. But there was a man called Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery Pulsifer -”

Crowley laughed. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

Aziraphale tittered. “I don’t know, but that was his name. Anyway, he came to her house to take her to be tried and immediately burned at the stake, but as I said, Agnes had the gift of prophecy, so she knew he was coming. She went with him willingly to the stake, and he tied her to it. He lit the wood and that should have been the end of it - but Agnes had stuffed her skirts full of gunpowder and nails. She took out everyone in the town square, and went down in history.”

He looked amazed. “That is the most fascinating bit of family lore I’ve ever even heard of.”

“Yes, well, don’t talk about it in front of my family, because she is kind of an open secret. Which seems ungracious, if you ask me.”

“Why? Because it’s such a cool story?”

“Well, not only that, but because she is the reason the Eastgate family has been so successful.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“I told you she was a prophetess.”

“Right.”

“Well, she wrote a book of her predictions, and all of them were nice and accurate. A lot of them pertained to future events, so my family was able to invest early in up-and-coming projects that they knew were going to be huge. Such as railroads and the steam engine. It also enabled us to be on the right side of history for nearly all things. She was blown up in the 1600’s, and less than a half century later, her descendants were up-and-comers in Britain.”

“That’s so fucking fascinating,” Crowley said. “Does anyone still study her or whatever?’

“My cousin Anathema does. She has something of a gift, too. But the majority of the rest of the family has kind of eschewed her prophecy, and we don’t talk about her much.”

“That’s a damn shame. If I had a witch relative that was always right, I’d never shut up. I’d tell everyone.”

“Well, in our family’s defense, people do tend to look at you a little strangely when they figure out first that you’re descended from witches, and second that you owe your success to said witch.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that. Okay, I’ll give your family the benefit of the doubt this one time.” Aziraphale laughed, and Crowley grinned at him, then looked around the room. “So this is the face room.”

Aziraphale tittered again. “It’s the portrait gallery, yes.”

Crowley nudged him with his shoulder. “Got any other juicy skeletons in the closet to share with me?”

He thought for a moment, then pulled Crowley over to one portrait. “This was Robert Eastgate, who died in 1742. When he died, it was discovered that he had a whole secret family.”

“Well now,” Crowley said, clearly delighted.

“This is Catherine. She had two children, a boy and a girl, and then immediately kicked her husband out to live in a cottage in Scotland while she lived with her ‘best friend’, a very pretty young lady that, by all accounts, she was quite taken with.”

“Oooh, scandal,” Crowley said.

“Indeed. Over there is Wilhelm. He was a rapscallion, and we don’t have time to enumerate his skeletons. He wouldn’t even be hanging in here if his mother hadn’t been a Dutch heiress.”

“Makes sense.”

“This is Charles, who disobeyed his parents and married for love.”

“Well, that’s downright inspirational!”

Aziraphale felt himself flush. “Indeed. We should all be so lucky.”

“What about this guy?” Crowley asked, pointing to a portrait of a scowling man. “What’s his skeleton?”

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“Hmm, well that won’t do. Let’s make one up, shall we?”

Aziraphale grinned at him. “Alright, you go first.”

Crowley seemed to be thinking for a minute. “He didn’t like bathing, and he smelled horrendous.”

“Oh, yes. I like that one. And it looks like it might have been true, too.”

“Got any paint? We could put some squiggly lines that look like vapor and maybe some flies buzzing around him.”

Aziraphale laughed. “No, I’m afraid I left them in my other trousers.”

“Pity,” Crowley said, amber eyes dancing. “What about this one?”

He thought fast. “She invented a ponzi scheme and got people to invest in carriages that would be powered by cats.”

Crowley burst out laughing. “And this one,” he said, pointing to another one, “murdered her maid for being better looking.”

“Oh, quite the scandal,” Aziraphale said. “This is Peter, and he didn’t ‘get’ wine. Said all of it tasted the same to him. Left the family with stores of terrible alcohol. We’re still dealing with it.”

He was still laughing, and Aziraphale was, too. “This one ran away to join the circus but got sent back for having duck feet.”

“This one put on puppet shows and made all the servants watch. They were dreadful shows, too.”

“This one right here farted in front of the Queen!” Crowley said, and they both dissolved into howling laughter.

Aziraphale’s belly was hurting just a little from laughing so much, and he had tears in his eyes, when he heard a gruff ahem from beside the door.

Crowley didn’t think he’d ever had as much fun as he was having with Aziraphale, laughing about the portraits. It was astounding just how easy and fun it was to be with Aziraphale. He was having the time of his life, and he was starting to think very seriously about looking for excuses to kiss -

Aziraphale stopped laughing suddenly and turned towards the door. Crowley followed his gaze to find Derek standing there, looking disapproving. His father’s disapproving look grew stronger when Crowley reached over and took Aziraphale’s hand.

“You’re being quite loud,” Derek huffed.

“Sorry, Dad,” Crowley said, and he didn’t miss the way Derek’s scowl deepened. He just smiled brighter. “The art is really great.”

Derek sniffed. “This is about history. Not art. The Eastgates helped build this country.”

Crowley tilted his head to the side. “Really? Because I was under the impression that this country was ancient. Since way before Roman times. But then, I’m so ignorant and stupid. What do I know?”

“You know what I mean.”

“He does, yes,” Aziraphale said, apparently trying to diffuse.

Crowley brought his hand up to his mouth and kissed it (anything but) absently. “Honestly, Dad, there’s nothing good you could tell me about this angel that I wouldn’t believe. He’s amazing.”

Derek huffed, looking disgruntled. Then he turned to Aziraphale. “Mind you’re not late to lunch. We have a polo match this afternoon to attend.”

“Yes, Father, thank you,” Aziraphale said.

“C’mon, angel,” Crowley said, pulling Aziraphale by the hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Aziraphale followed the pressure of his hand, and Crowley gave Derek a brilliant smile when he passed him, just to be an arsehole. Once they got into the corridor, Aziraphale pulled him towards the right, and Crowley didn’t argue. He just went.

When they were a dozen yards away or so, Aziraphale looked over his shoulder, then said in a low voice, “I think he’s gone. I can let you go now.”

He made to release Crowley’s hand, but Crowley held tight. “Let’s just stay like this. Just in case.” Aziraphale grinned, his cheeks pink, and Crowley winked.

“So where are we going?”

“I think I told you a little bit about Brother Francis.”

“Yes, and his wife, but you didn’t tell me her name.”

“Oh, no one calls her by her name. Her name is ‘Nanny’ as far as we’re all concerned.”

Crowley chuckled. “You didn’t tell me much about her.”

“Well, as her name would suggest, she was the nanny, and so she had a great deal of input in my upbringing. She was wonderful. She used to give me little chores to do - nothing age-inappropriate, but things that I could do myself. And I loved the feeling of independence that gave me. I also loved the feeling of helping people.”

“She sounds amazing.”

“Oh, she is. She used to hug me and kiss my forehead every night before bed, then sing me a little song. Blackbird, by the Beatles. And then she’d kiss my forehead again and tell me to sleep like a frog.”

Crowley laughed. “Sleep like a frog?!”

“Yes. You see, for a while there, I was utterly obsessed with the muppets. Specifically Kermit. So she’d tell me to sleep like a frog. I also sing the ABC song a little differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of ‘next time won’t you sing with me’, Nanny and I sing, ‘next time won’t you sing like a frog’.”

Crowley had never been more charmed. “That is absolutely the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, she’s wonderful, and it’s one of my warmest memories.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“I’d love to introduce you.”

“So she and Francis are the ones who raised you?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking. I spent a great deal of time with them when I was a child. They were…. warmer than my parents.”

“I don’t imagine that takes much.”

“No, it doesn’t. I used to go to the conservatory sometimes, when I was a small boy and needed a little kindness. Brother Francis would let me hide in a corner under some manner of tree and read for hours. He’d check on me every now and then, to make sure I didn’t need anything, and sometimes, if he could tell I was upset, he’d come talk to me. He talked to me like my concerns were important to him, which wasn’t something I had a lot of in my life. He treated me like a person, and it was a wonderfully refreshing feeling.”

“He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“Oh, he is. He taught me to arrange flowers, although I’m not very good at it. He’s much, much better. And he was very patient with me when I attempted to learn to garden. I had a black thumb and killed everything I touched, but he was ever so kind about it.”

He laughed. “A black thumb, eh? I guess I shouldn’t let you water my plants, then, huh?”

“Oh, you keep plants?”

“Yeah, I’m a plant dad. I have twenty-two in my flat.”

“That many?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll love Brother Francis, then.” Aziraphale blushed a little. “He’s very kind, like you.”

“I love hearing that,” Crowley said, feeling very warmly towards the gardener. “Although I’m not kind. Kind is a four letter word.”

“You’ve been very kind to me.”

“Yeah, there are exceptions. But don’t tell anyone, it’ll ruin my rep.”

Aziraphale flushed. “You’re so silly, dear.”

Downright goofy over you, he thought, but didn’t dare say. “And Francis’ wife is Nanny?”

“Yes. They live in a cottage on the grounds. They’ve been living there since well before I was born. I think since the mid-seventies.”

“Holy shit,” Crowley said. “They must be old.”

“Oh, yes. Well past retirement age.” He looked a little shifty for a moment. Crowley was coming to love that look. “My parents did try to force them into retirement a few years ago, but my cousin Anathema and I managed to stop it.”

“How did you do that?”

“Well, my parents wanted to kick them out of the cottage, so my mother could make it into a guest cottage. Ana and I came up with a plan - the then-Prince and Duchess were coming for some reason I don’t remember, and Prince Charles, who is a noted environmentalist, complimented the grounds. That was our opportunity, and Ana and I sprung into action.”

“What did you do?” Crowley asked, fascinated.

“We told the Prince that Brother Francis was the best gardener anyone could ever hope for, and then we mentioned how kind it was for my mother to keep him and his wife on, even though they’re a bit older. And Prince Charles actually complimented her about it! She loves that story more than just about anything, so Francis and Nanny got to stay.” He looked shifty again. “I discreetly hired an assistant to help him with the manual labor. But he truly loves the grounds here, and I know Nanny loves it here, too. It would break their hearts to leave.”

“Oh, no, I imagine so,” Crowley said. “But honestly, I’m amazed by you.”

“Me? Why is that?”

“I’m just impressed to find that my little nickname for you is so accurate. You really are an angel, aren’t you?”

“Oh, stop,” Aziraphale said, flushing.

“I’m serious. Heart as big as the world.”

“That would be a little uncomfortable, don’t you think?” Aziraphale teased, and Crowley laughed.

“Maybe so, but you seem to be dealing with it well.”

“It’s a burden, but I manage.”

He laughed again, and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand fondly. Yeah, he was absolutely going to kiss this man the very first chance he got.

Aziraphale had known, in his head, that Brother Francis would be busy in the conservatory, putting together flowers for the wedding, but that had entirely slipped his mind. As a result, their visit to the conservatory was a bit rushed. Aziraphale was touched, however, when Crowley shook Brother Francis’ hand more firmly than he had anyone else and thanked him for being such a light in Aziraphale’s life. It was a little difficult to blink back the tears when he said that, because it was so earnest, but he managed to hang onto himself.

After they left the conservatory, Aziraphale took Crowley to the library to show him his reading nook, telling him all about how he loved to spend time there, lost in a book. He was a little embarrassed to share that, but Crowley looked at him so softly. It made him feel… special. Cared for. And that was absurd, because Crowley was in no way interested in him. But he was very much interested in Crowley. He was trying not to be, but he couldn’t help it. Crowley was so tender with him, so kind - in addition to all his other wonderful qualities. How could he possibly be expected not to develop a tendre for this man? Especially when Crowley was looking at him almost affectionately, and had been holding his hand continuously for the last ninety minutes. It was a little dizzying, and very confusing, but he needed to get a hold on himself. This would never come to anything, and he needed to remember that.

“It sounds like you were fairly indoorsy,” Crowley said, his hand still wrapped around Aziraphale’s. “Did you not spend much time outside?”

“I did, yes, actually. On nice days, I’d go out into the forest around the manor and look for faeries.”

“Faeries!” Crowley said. “Good thing you didn’t find them. I hear they can be tricky.”

“Well, yes, that’s true. But as a child, I was convinced that they’d be so charmed by me, they wouldn’t hurt me in any way.”

“Did you ever find any?”

“No, although I spent many hours out there, looking. I finally decided that the faeries must all be in Scotland.”

“That makes complete sense to me,” Crowley said. “But if it’s any consolation, if I were a faerie, I would be so charmed by you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Aziraphale nearly melted, but chastised himself. He really needed to get himself together.

Crowley glanced away to look at his watch. “What time do we need to leave to get ready for the polo match?”

“We’re supposed to leave after lunch, so I suppose we’ll need to get dressed before.”

“It’s eleven. Should we head back and get dressed?”

“That would be nice,” Aziraphale said. “Let’s go, dear.”

He walked with Crowley to the entrance of the library, and then into the corridor. Crowley was swinging his hand lightly and said, “Thank you for bringing me on this tour.”

“Oh, really. I’m sure it was boring. And besides that, it was compulsory.”

“Well, yeah, a little compulsory. But it wasn’t boring, and it helped me get to know you a little better. A lot better. And I like that. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Aziraphale said softly, doing his best not to get lost in Crowley’s eyes.

He was losing the battle with himself when he heard something at the end of the corridor, and suddenly he was on alert. “Someone’s coming,” he said, then he heard Gabriel call his name. “Oh, drat. It’s Gabriel.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said, confusing Aziraphale for just a brief second - and then, the next thing he knew, Crowley had pulled him into his arms and was giving him a toe-curling kiss.

Aziraphale was utterly helpless to keep from melting into the kiss, and he couldn’t help but press his body closer to Crowley’s, too. It seemed that Crowley wanted that, and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale tighter, holding him closer. Aziraphale was absolutely dizzy, and he felt a little drunk. Drunk on the smell of Crowley, on the feel of him, and then Crowley parted his lips with his tongue and started to explore Aziraphale’s mouth, and suddenly Aziraphale was drunk on the taste of Crowley. Oh, dear lord, he wanted this for-

“Jesus Christ, Aziraphale,” Gabriel griped. “Must you?”

Aziraphale was a little dizzy when Crowley broke the kiss, and it took him a second to blink back into reality. When he did, Crowley had put his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and was smiling at Gabriel.

“Ah, Gabe. Didn’t see you there. How are you?”

“Okay, first my name is Gabriel, not Gabe. Second, I certainly hope you didn’t see me, otherwise what you were just doing would be even more inappropriate. And to answer your third question, I am fine - or I would be, if I didn’t have to witness displays like this.”

Crowley just smiled bigger and squeezed Aziraphale’s waist. “Ah, well, you know how it is, as a man who is soon to be married. Sometimes we just have no self control at all.”

“My future wife and I do not engage in public displays like this,” Gabriel snapped.

Aziraphale snapped back into the present and nuzzled under Crowley’s arm. He liked it a great deal. “That’s a terrible shame for you, Gabriel, because we rather like to engage in public displays, don’t we, dear?”

Crowley turned and nipped his ear, and he felt like fainting. “You bet your arse we do, angel.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help his giggle and blush, but he figured that was in character.

Gabriel’s face was pure disgust. “I know this is… Good God, Anthony,” he snapped when Crowley continued to nibble his ear. “You are meeting nobility soon. Pull yourself together!”

“Oh, we’ll be perfectly behaved with your inlaws,” Aziraphale said. “But for now, we need to go get dressed for the polo match, so if you’ll excuse us -”

“Anthony’s not going.”

Aziraphale froze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s not going. We didn’t buy him a ticket.”

“Why the devil not?” Aziraphale demanded.

“Because we didn’t think he was real,” Gabriel snarked. “Honestly, you call and tell us about some mystery man and won’t give us any details, you’re shady as hell about it, and you expect us to spend that kind of money on a ticket?”

Aziraphale was just about to say something very rude, but Crowley squeezed around his waist. “It’s fine, angel. I’ll stay here and take a nap or something. Maybe read a book or help out Brother Francis. I can keep myself occupied for a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, like that’s not terrifying,” Gabriel said in an ugly tone. “Aziraphale, we’re leaving just after lunch. Make sure he’s deposited somewhere safely before we go, would you?” Then he walked off, looking smug.

Aziraphale was furious, absolutely steaming, but Crowley squeezed his waist again. “Honestly, angel. Don’t worry about it. I have no desire to go to a polo match, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t either, but it’s the principle of the thing! Maybe I should stay home.”

“No, no. You go, or they’re going to use it against you. It’ll be fine, honestly. I’ll scroll twitter or something. I can keep myself entertained.”

Aziraphale was conflicted, but he knew if he didn’t go and stayed behind with Crowley, he may get more grief for it. So he sighed. “Well, yes, I suppose that would be best. But I do hate it.”

“I know you do,” Crowley said, and they started walking towards the staircase that would take them to their room. Aziraphale was thrilled that Crowley still had his arm around him. “But seriously, what’s up with your brother? Why does he have such a stick up his arse? Is he always like this?”

“Well, yes, kind of. It’s a long story, but I’ll have to tell you when I get back. It’s juicy gossip, and I want to have time to do it justice.”

Crowley’s eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait, angel.”

Aziraphale’s heart trilled in his chest.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was in the backseat of his father’s Range Rover a little over an hour later, sitting next to his mother, trying very hard not to feel like a child as they made their way to the polo match. He had never enjoyed the sport much, although his parents had made him play, but it was the sport of the upper crust, so the Eastgates were regular patrons. Aziraphale found it all boring and tedious, and horses were very hard on the buttocks.

While he was trying not to feel infantilized by riding in the back seat next to his mother, he was also trying to ignore the chatter going on in the car about the wedding on Sunday. Honestly, Aziraphale couldn’t care less about Gabriel’s wedding. He’d like to say that he wished he hadn’t even bothered coming, but that wasn’t true. If he hadn’t come to this wedding, he wouldn’t have met Crowley, and that would have been awful. He was very happy to have met Crowley, even though they would never be anything more than friends.

But oh, what an actor Crowley was! That kiss in the hallway, just before lunch, had felt devastatingly real. And Aziraphale wished very much that it was real. He knew better, though. He knew that Crowley wasn’t queer, and even if he was, he was highly unlikely to be attracted to anyone like Aziraphale. Still, he was heartened that Crowley didn’t seem to be having a miserable time. As far as Aziraphale could tell, Crowley was having fun here so far, and he hoped that that would be enough to make him want to remain friends after this experience. It was the most he dared hope for.

His mobile went off in his pocket, and he pulled it out, ignoring the look in the rearview from his father. He wasn’t at all displeased when he saw that it was Fergus, and he clicked to open the message.

Fergus: Hey you, how’s it going?
Aziraphale: It’s not terrible.
Fergus: How are things going with Crowley?

Well, that was a very different can of worms, wasn’t it? He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that, and he was a little hesitant to give away too much while his mother was sitting less than two feet away. So he turned the phone so his mother couldn’t see and answered.

Aziraphale: Oh, he’s very nice
Aziraphale: And he’s put the cat amongst the canaries with my family. You’d love it.
Fergus: Oh?

He debated for a moment how much to tell Fergus, then decided to tell him as much as he could. Aziraphale turned the phone a little more and typed:

Aziraphale: They were rude to him when we first arrived, and he asked if he could make some mischief. I agreed, and it’s been very entertaining to watch.
Fergus: What is he doing? Just riling them up?
Aziraphale: Mostly, yes. I’ll give you a full accounting when I see you next.
Fergus: Might not want to do that, since I’m coming to the wedding.
Aziraphale: Oh, you changed your mind?
Fergus: Yeah, I’m coming. Coming stag, though. Don’t want to deal with the hassle of finding a date.

Aziraphale scoffed to himself, then sent another message.

Aziraphale: Tell me about it.
Fergus: So you like Crowley?

He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. He was sure that he eventually would explain his feelings to Fergus, but now was not the time. So he hedged.

Aziraphale: He has been wonderful. I’ve enjoyed having him around thus far.
Fergus: That’s a very diplomatic, bullshit answer.
Aziraphale: I have no idea what you mean.
Fergus: I mean, have you developed a crush?

He felt his cheeks warm, and he hoped no one would notice.

Aziraphale: That would be quite improper, now wouldn’t it?
Fergus: I don’t see why. He’s very crushable, way I hear it.
Aziraphale: Yes, I can see why he draws so many admirers.
Fergus: Are you among their ranks? It’s okay, you can tell me.

He was just trying to figure out what to say in response to that when he heard, “Aziraphale! Are you listening?”

“Head in the clouds, as always,” Gabriel scoffed.

“No, I’m sorry,” Aziraphale apologized. “I was talking to Fergus. He is coming to the wedding, by the way.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Frances said. “Such a good boy.”

“Yes, he is,” Aziraphale agreed.

“Speaking of coming to the wedding…” Gabriel said.

“Yes?”

“Quite the… person you’ve brought home to meet us.”

Aziraphale was instantly on alert - and annoyed with himself. He should have expected this: he really should have known that they would try to divide and conquer. He should have seen what was happening when they insisted on him coming to the match and Crowley not. And he was frustrated with himself that this was taking him by surprise.

He plastered on a smile. “He is quite the person, isn’t he?” he gushed. “An absolute delight.”

“That’s one word for it,” Gabriel muttered.

“He really is absolutely wonderful,” Aziraphale continued. “He makes me laugh all the time, and he’s so creative! He’s also very kind. He’s the sort that does kind things for very little reason. And that’s not even touching on the dedication and work that he puts into his business!”

“Yea, that’s a matter we’d like to discuss with you.”

Aziraphale was playing innocent. “What, that he’s funny?”

“No, although my opinion of your sense of humor has taken a turn in the last twenty-four hours, if you find that funny. I wanted to talk to you about his… business.”

“Really, Aziraphale,” Gabriel chimed in. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned that he might have other goals in mind?”

He continued to play dumb. “You think he wants to own two garages?”

“You know what we mean,” his mother said imperiously. “The world is full of people who will want to use you, Aziraphale. Who won’t see anything but your family name and the money you have.”

“Oh, that’s not Crowley at all. I’m not the least bit concerned about that. I’m genuinely not.”

“Seriously, Az,” Gabriel interjected, like he’d been dying for the chance. “What the hell do you see in him?”

“Language, pet,” his mother said.

“Sorry, mother. But my question stands. He’s nothing like your type.”

“Well, I don’t think you know what my type is, really,” Aziraphale said a little haughtily.

“Certainly not that,” Derek scoffed.

“I might remind you that for a very long time, you have all insisted that my type are women, when nothing could be farther from the truth.”

Derek huffed, and Aziraphale thought he was about to get a tongue lashing, then Frances stepped in.

“How well do you even know him, really,” Frances asked. “How did you even meet? Surely you must run in different circles.”

“I met him through Fergus, as he told you.” Everything he had said up to this point had been the absolute truth, but he knew he had no choice but to start lying now. “He and I were both invited to a party at Fergus’ house, Fergus’ birthday party, in June. It was the first time that Crowley had come, even though he and Fergus have known each other for several years. He saw me and angled for an introduction, and Fergus brought him over. I thought he was very charming and funny, but I didn’t catch on that he was flirting at first. And then, when I did, I thought that he was perhaps some sort of maneater, if you’ll pardon the phrase, given that he was so attractive. But he spent about six weeks pursuing me, wooing me, and eventually I came to realize that he was genuine. That was in early August, and we’ve been together ever since. I’m ridiculously happy.”

Frances shook her head. “I just never dreamed that you’d bring home some strange person with an ear piercing…”

“And tattoos. He has lots of stunning I tattoos . Beautiful art.”

His mother put her hand to her face as if she was feeling woozy, and Aziraphale noticed she looked a little pale.

“Michael has ear piercings,” he pointed out. “Although I have no idea about tattoos.”

“The daughter of an Earl would never sully her temple with a tattoo,” Derek insisted.

“And she has her ears pierced because she’s a woman,” Gabriel snarked.

“Thank God,” Derek muttered, “we dodged a bullet there.”

“The bullet hit us anyway, Derek,” Frances said.

Aziraphale could see that Gabriel was angry, his face was purpling, and as much as he liked needling his brother, he didn’t want things to get any uglier in the car. Gabriel was a man of intense emotions and occasionally unpredictable. So he brought the attention back on himself.

“Look, I know that you all are not very happy with this decision I’ve made -”

“To take up with a gold digging, tattooed grease monkey?” Derek said snidely. “What gave you that impression?”

Aziraphale carried on, undaunted. “But it is my decision, and I’m very happy with it. Crowley and I are very happy together. We enjoy each other, we respect each other, and we… care deeply for each other. We make each other feel joy. I’m deliriously happy with the situation I find myself in, and I intend to stay with Crowley for a long time. As long as he’s willing to stay with me.”

Frances looked grim, Derek’s jaw was set, and Gabriel looked furious - probably about the crack from their father more than anything. The mood in the car was oppressive. Aziraphale also felt his mood take a turn, because it occurred to him after he finished speaking that he had just declared his devotion to a man that he was paying to be with him, and that things would fall apart immediately upon arrival back in London. He’d have to reckon with this lie at some point in the future.

But for the moment, his family was quiet, so he’d deal with what was to come later. He gave himself a rueful smile when he thought of the phrase ‘I’ll burn that bridge when I get there’. That might be exactly what he had to do. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he was bracing for it.

For now, he just tried to be as pleasant as possible for this stupid polo match.

Crowley was sitting highly improperly, with one leg swung over the arm of the chair, in the only room in this godforsaken house that seemed to have furniture that was remotely comfortable. How the hell did people live like this? Crowley very much liked his flat in Mayfair, and he liked that it was posh and well-appointed. But he would be damned if he didn’t have a comfortable place. The idea of doing otherwise was utterly insane to him.

For the moment, though, he was scrolling twitter on his mobile mindlessly, waiting for Aziraphale to get back from the polo match. Aziraphale had texted about forty minutes ago that they were on the way back, and that Muriel and the Earl’s entourage were likely to beat them there, so Crowley was even more content to hide in this little lounge and scroll his phone. He wasn’t seeing anything on the screen, though, because all he could think about was Aziraphale. It seemed like the angel had infected his mind or something. And he’d thought he was attracted before, but that was nothing compared to -

A message popped up on the screen from Fergus.

Fergus: Hey, man. How’s it going?

Crowley clicked on the popup to open the message and started typing.

Crowley: It’s going fucking fantastic.
Fergus: Want to tell me about it?
Crowley: Can you take a call right now?
Fergus: 👍🏻

He pushed the button to dial and brought the phone to his ear. Fergus answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Crowley drawled.

“How the hell are you, man?”

“Oh, I’m peachy. Just fantastic.”

“Good. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Well, his family are the biggest bunch of prolapsed arseholes I’ve ever come across. Every last one of them looks like they have dung permanently under their nose or some shit.”

“Yeah, they’re pricks. Aziraphale said that you were giving them hell, though.”

“You talked to Aziraphale?”

“Of course I did,” Fergus scoffed. “He’s my best mate. We talk every day. But he was a little light on detail - are you with him?”

“No, he’s at some polo match with his family. Should be back anytime.”

“That must be why he wasn’t quite as talkative as normal. Why aren’t you with him?”

“They wanted to separate us. They claimed they didn’t buy a ticket for me because they didn't believe I existed, but I’m certain the fuckers just wanted to separate us.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But in fairness, you didn’t exist until about a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Crowley allowed. “But I don’t feel like being fair to them.”

“No, I understand that feeling entirely. So how’s it going with Aziraphale?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked, because I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’m going to have to kick your arse.”

“What?! Kick my arse!?”

“Yep,” Crowley said, popping the P. “Pretty sure I’m going to do exactly that as soon as I see you.”

“What the hell?” Fergus demanded. “Why? “

Crowley grinned. “For not introducing us sooner.”

“Oh, you fucker,” Fergus muttered, while Crowley cackled. “You are such a dick.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” Crowley said playfully.

“So you like him?”

“Fergus, man, he’s amazing. He’s clever, he’s funny as hell, he’s got the world’s biggest heart - even though he was raised by the world’s biggest arseholes - and he’s drop-dead gorgeous. He’s just… he’s fantastic, and every minute I spend around him just makes me crazier about him.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack,” Crowley said, still grinning. “We had talked about me possibly holding his hand or putting my arm around him in front of his family, and I’ve been doing that at every opportunity. And then I kissed him -”

“Whoa, whoa. You kissed him?”

“I did, yeah,” Crowley said proudly. “Just before lunch. I’d been thinking about doing it for a while and then his brother came around the corner, and I jumped all over that opportunity. And man, I have to tell you, the things I felt when I kissed him…. they can’t even be described.”

“I’ll be curious to see what he thought of it,” Fergus said. “But I suspect it would be favorable. I think he likes you.”

Crowley perked up considerably - which was amazing, considering he’d already been in a fantastic mood. “You do?”

“I do, yeah.”

“As in, romantically?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“What makes you say that? Did he tell you that? Did he, like, say that outright?”

“No, he didn’t say it outright, but it’s a hunch I have.”

“How good are your hunches?”

“When it comes to Az, they’re usually pretty good. But at the same time, I thought you were straight, so what the hell do I know? Obviously, I’m capable of getting it wrong.”

“You thought I was straight?”

“Well how the hell would I know what you get up to?”

Crowley barked a laugh. “That’s fucking delightful, Fergus. Truly.”

“I take it that you are not straight?”

“I’m about as straight as a country lane, mi amigo.”

“Well, then, consider this me putting you on notice that if you made a real, genuine move on Aziraphale, I think he’d be receptive.”

Crowley punched the air. “Yes! That’s the best fucking news I’ve gotten all day. Thank you, man.”

“You’re welcome. Does that mean I’m off the hook for the arsekicking?” Fergus said teasingly.

Crowley laughed. “Nah. I’m even more determined to kick your arse now, if he really likes me.”

“You’ll get your chance on Sunday, since I’m coming up for the wedding.”

“You are?”

“Yep. I’ll be there a little bit before lunchtime.”

“That’s -” He froze when he heard a noise outside the room. “Hey, man, can I talk to you later?” he asked, his eyes on the door and his whole body tense.

“Of course. Have a good one, see you Sunday.”

“See you,” Crowley said, then got to his feet and went to the door cautiously. He felt sure that if it was Aziraphale seeking him, he’d have just come in. Plus, he’d been talking about things that nobody in this house needed to know. He was hoping - almost desperately - that what he’d heard had been in his imagination.

He opened the door, peered into the hall, and didn’t see anyone to the left. When he looked to the right, however, he saw the butler man, Furball, he thought, conveniently headed his way from a few yards away.

“Ah, Master Crowley,” he said, with a toothy smile. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, hi, Furball.”

“Furfur,” he corrected.

“Oops, my bad. But, uh, you were looking for me?”

“Yes, I came to tell you that the family has -”

“Thank you, Furfur,” came Derek’s voice, making both of them turn around. Derek was smiling, and he probably thought he looked pleasant, but Crowley’s bullshit radar was going off. He had a distinct impression that he wasn’t about to like what was going to happen.

“I’ll take it from here, Furfur. You’re dismissed,” Derek said, again with a smile that seemed dangerous.

Furfur almost looked disappointed when he gave a little bow of his head, then turned and walked down the hall. Derek watched him as he walked away, but Crowley watched Derek. He was on alert, his guard was up, and he decided to go on the offensive.

“Hiya, Dad,” he said, and saw the tension increase in Derek’s jaw before he even turned back around. “How was the horse thing?”

“It was a polo match,” Derek said with a casualness that Crowley could sense was cracking. His smile was also devoid of joy. “And it was very nice.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine they’re a lot of fun. A bunch of posh knobs riding around on horses, walloping a little ball with sticks. Seems dumb to me.”

“It’s a wonderful sport,” Derek said. “But I was looking for you.”

“Oh? You were? What can I do you for, Daddio?”

Derek’s jaw clenched again, and his fake smile wavered before he rallied. “Quite an impression you’ve made on my son.”

Crowley grinned, and this smile was genuine. If Derek thought that Crowley had made an impression, that must mean that Aziraphale had said nice things about him. And he hoped that he had been genuine when he said those things.

After the talk with Fergus, he had a little more hope in that regard.

“Yeah,” he said. “He’s fantastic. I’m craz-”

“I’ll give you ten thousand pounds to walk out of this house right now and never speak to him again.”

Crowley blinked, taken aback. But he shouldn’t have been. He should have expected this. Still, he was stunned, and he couldn’t help but say, “You what?”

“I will pay you to leave my son alone.”

“Have you asked Aziraphale what he thinks about this?”

“No, because it doesn’t concern him. I’m doing it for his protection. Fifteen thousand pounds.”

“No,” Crowley said, feeling his anger rise.

“Twenty. Twenty-five. Tell me what it will take. Name your price to surrender my son.”

Now he was pissed. “I have no intention of giving up that angel.”

“Thirty,” Derek said abruptly.

“Why the hell are you so opposed to him being happy?” Crowley demanded.

Derek scoffed. “He could never find happiness with the likes of you.”

“I think you’ll find that my only ambition is to make him stupidly happy.”

“Yes, and that’s part of the problem. You have no ambition, no drive, and you’re not even in the vicinity of being good enough for him.”

Crowley’s hands were clenched beside his legs. “I have a job. A damned good job. I make fantastic money -”

“As a grease monkey.”

“As a high end mechanic that owns my own fucking garage. I don’t need his money. I don’t need your money. And I won’t fucking take it,” he said, his voice cracking with rage.

“Forty thousand pounds, cash on the barrelhead, so to speak. I will give you a bank draft right now.”

“You can keep your fucking money,” Crowley spat. “Matter of fact, you can shove it up your own arse - if you can find room around the stick you have shoved up there.”

“Fifty thousand. It’s more than you’ll make in a year, I’m sure.”

“Fuck you, and fuck your money. My decision about Aziraphale is made. The only decision left to make is whether to tell him you thought he could be traded for ten thousand measly pounds.”

“Think about it, then, if you must, and let me know after dinner?”

“Fuck off,” Crowley snarled, then stomped away without a look back.

Chapter Text

Crowley had rarely been so angry as he was right then. The idea that Derek fucking Eastgate thought that he would take money to leave Aziraphale alone, that either he or Aziraphale could be bought… and so cheap! It honestly made his blood boil. And he had no idea what to tell Aziraphale about it, if anything. He felt like he had a right to know, and he knew he should tell him, but he had a strong suspicion that telling him the truth about his father would cause even more of a rift in their relationship. Personally, he thought it would be a fantastic thing for Aziraphale to get away from these toxic shitheads, but he also didn’t want to be the cause of Aziraphale telling his parents to fuck off. So he was stuck in a catch-22: damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. But he didn’t need to decide about telling Aziraphale right now. He was too angry to make rational decisions. He needed to calm down and let his cooler head prevail. That’s what he would do, he decided. For the moment, though, he was still blisteringly angry.

He tried not to make a habit of stomping, but he was decidedly stomping now as he made his way - fuck. He didn’t even know where he was going. This house was so fucking big, and besides that, he hadn’t even found out where Aziraphale was. Bloody fucking hell. That was just fantastic, he snarked within his own mind. He was lost in this stupid house, and he had no idea how to find his boyfriend.

Well, there was one way to fix that. He pulled out his mobile and started composing a text to Aziraphale, typing as fast as he could as he walked in a direction he wasn’t -

“Oof!” he said, as he slammed full-force into someone, making him drop the phone.

“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” he heard from a gentle, kind voice. He looked up from where he was bent, picking up his mobile, and saw a young woman standing there, with dark brown eyes and hair that was almost black, tied back. She was dressed in clothes that were stylish and young, but still conservative - and decidedly not the clothes of someone in service. “I’m so very sorry, sir.”

“No problem,” Crowley said, straightening and putting his phone in his pocket. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, it’s my fault. To be honest, I don’t know exactly where I’m going.”

“Would you like me to show you?” she asked cheerfully. “I grew up here, I know it all.”

Crowley felt a genuine smile spread across his face. “You must be Muriel.”

She looked delighted, slightly surprised. “I am! Who are you?”

“I’m Crowley,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Aziraphale’s boyfriend.”

“Oh!” She looked a little taken aback, then her face blossomed and she took his hand, shaking it vigorously. “I’m so very glad to meet you! Aziraphale has never brought anyone home before.”

“So I hear,” Crowley said with a grin.

Muriel quirked her head to the side, but it was endearing, not judgmental. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be his type.”

He was still grinning. “I think it surprised him, too, honestly. But I can be very convincing.”

“Oh! I just meant…. Oh, I’ve mucked it all up,” she fretted.

“No, you haven’t. I’m only teasing.”

“I really am delighted that he’s met you. He kept you a secret for a while, but when I talked to him yesterday and he told me you were here, he seemed so happy with you.”

Crowley was still grinning. “I’m very happy to hear that. But do you know where he is? And, um, maybe how to get there?”

“Oh! Yes! I did offer to take you, didn’t I? Right this way, Mr. Crowley,” she said, starting down the corridor.

“It’s just Crowley, no need to worry with the title.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said with a smile. “So how long have you and Aziraphale been dating?”

“Since late last summer,” he said, hedging. He wasn’t sure what Aziraphale had told his family, exactly.

“Well, we’re all very happy that he has you,” Muriel said.

Crowley couldn’t help his snide laugh, thinking about the interaction he’d just had with Derek. “Are you sure about that, Muriel?”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “But I am, at least. And I think other people will be happy, too.”

“I hope you’re right. I seem to have made an impression on your parents and brother. Won them all over, I did.”

Muriel looked a little mischievous, which delighted Crowley. “You did, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “They all find me charming and debonair and all kinds of good shit.”

She giggled, and it was adorable. Her laugh sounded a lot like Aziraphale’s, and it made him feel even more warmly towards her.

“Yes, you’ve made a strong impression on them. A very normal impression, because my parents are very normal people.”

Crowley snorted a laugh. “Quite,” he said, smiling. “But at any rate, I’m very glad to make your acquaintance, and I’m hoping that you’ll come to think well of me.” He was surprised when he realized that that was a genuine sentiment.

She gave him a very warm smile, and her voice was dripping with sincerity. “I can see what my brother sees in you. I’m very glad he met you.”

He was thrilled by that, and they chatted amiably until they got to the parlor Muriel was leading them towards.

As soon as he stepped in the door, the first person he saw was Derek, standing nearby and talking to a man and woman that Crowley assumed were the Earl and Countess. Crowley gave him a fulminating glare and cast his eyes around for Aziraphale. He first spotted Gabriel, looking bored and somewhat annoyed with a woman he didn’t recognize. He assumed she must be Michael. But soon, he spotted the only one he wanted to see, talking to his mother and a young lady that Crowley didn’t know. He felt his heart swell with happiness, just to see him. He walked over there with as much purpose as he could put in his strides, and when he got close enough, he put his arm around Aziraphale’s waist. He looked surprised, Frances looked displeased, and the young woman they were talking to looked bemused.

“Hiya, angel,” Crowley said, then dropped a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale flushed prettily.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“Hello, Anthony,” Frances said coldly. “Have you met Petronella? This is Michael’s sister.”

“Who is Michael? Is he a nice bloke?”

Petronella, a pretty young lady with smart clothes and her chestnut hair in an updo, snickered into her hand, but Frances looked disapproving.

“Michael is the woman my son is marrying on Sunday.”

“Your son?” he said, pretending confusion. “Oh, right. Your other son. Gotcha.”

She glared at him, then turned to the young woman. “As I was saying, Petronella, you and Aziraphale would have a great deal in common. He’s very interested in books and learning.”

“I own a bookshop,” Aziraphale volunteered, sounding proud. “It’s very nice and cozy. It’s also connected to a coffee shop, so readers can sip and read.”

“It’s a hobby,” Frances said smoothly, and Crowley could feel Aziraphale deflate a little. It pissed him off further, that she could diminish him in such a way.

“S’not a hobby. He’s a fantastic bookseller. His shop is absolutely amazing. I love it there. You might like it, too,” Crowley said.

Frances ignored him. “Perhaps he’ll ask you to dance at some point over the weekend. Won’t you, Aziraphale?”

“I think my dances are spoken for, Mother,” he said.

Frances ignored him, too. “He would make an excellent partner…”

“He does,” Crowley said with a tinge of venom in his voice, his arm tightening around Aziraphale’s waist.

“Mother, please do stop trying to play matchmaker, especially when I’m standing here next to my boyfriend.”

“Well, nothing lasts forever, darling,” she said coolly, and Crowley felt his blood boil.

“Um, Mrs. Eastgate, he seems happy…”

“I am,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley was slightly mollified.

That good feeling went away immediately when Frances said snidely, “For now.”

He was just about to say something, make some kind of scene, when dinner was announced. All he could do was give her a glare and take Aziraphale’s hand, walking with him towards the dining room.

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“Of course, I’m fine. Tip-top,” he lied. “Ready for some shenanigans?”

Aziraphale looked a little unsure, but he gave a smile. “Let’s have some fun.”

Aziraphale had no idea what had happened between Crowley and his father, but he was certain that something had happened.

Crowley was still riling up his parents, but there was a bite to it that there hadn’t been before. He interrupted Derek every chance he got, and he kept talking up Aziraphale - but with an edge that clearly dared anyone to disagree with him. His table manners weren’t any different from yesterday, but Aziraphale could tell he wasn’t having a good time with it. There was an undercurrent of hostility, and it wasn’t particularly far beneath the surface. Aziraphale was surprised, given what had just happened, that the majority of it seemed to be focused on his father and not his mother - who had seated him next to Petronella and put Crowley across from him.

As tense as the vibe was around Crowley, it was nothing compared to Gabriel and Michael. Those two were seated next to each other, and their body language was stiff and hostile. When the table talked about the wedding - which they did in mind-numbing detail - the bride and groom barely exchanged words. The only time they seemed to acknowledge each other was the occasional exasperated glance over something Crowley had done.

To top everything off, both his parents seemed to be in a foul mood, Derek especially. Aziraphale assumed it was probably in part due to the fact that the Earl and Countess had had to miss dinner due to a minor emergency at home, and the Eastgates had pulled out all the stops to impress them in vain. But he didn’t doubt that whatever had clearly happened with Crowley factored in.

When the meal was finished, Derek stood up. “I believe I’m going to have some port in my study, if anyone would like to join me. That offer is open to all of the gentlemen at the table,” he said, with a pointed look at Crowley.

“Actually,” Aziraphale said, jumping in before Crowley could say something. “I think I might show Crowley the rec room. We didn’t see it on our tour today.”

“I’ll join you! I’d like to get to know your boyfriend a little better,” Muriel said, then seemed to catch herself. “If that’s okay.”

Aziraphale shot a look at Crowley, who didn’t look displeased by this. “That would be lovely, dear.”

“If it’s alright,” said Petronella, “I think I’d like to join you, too. I’ve heard so much about all of you, and my mother insists, Muriel, that you and I are meant to be fast friends.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Muriel said, smiling.

“Right, then,” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet. Crowley, Muriel and Petronella followed suit. “I hope you all have a lovely evening. Goodnight.”

Aziraphale let everyone go in before him, and when he followed them inside, he was shocked to see Petronella pulling her hair down out of the updo it had been in and shaking it loose. “Oh thank God,” she said, in a tone that was much different that he’d heard from her so far. “Thank all the heavens that’s over. Are they all going to be like that?” Everyone looked kind of stunned for a moment as she looked around the room. "It's not just me, right? It was just generally uncomfortable in there?"

"Nope,” Crowley said, popping the P. “Not just you."

She took a seat in a chair, much more casually than Aziraphale would have expected, crossing her legs and not her ankles, then smiled. "Sorry for inviting myself with you, but I couldn't handle another discussion on exactly how the flowers are to be laid out."

“Oh yes, we’re quite bored with that, too,” said Aziraphale.

Muriel squealed and clapped her hands a little. “Az! She’s like us!”

Petronella smiled. “If by ‘like us’, you mean not an arsehole, then yes. I’m like you. And honestly, you three seem to be the only non-arseholes here.”

“Oh, wait until you meet our cousin Anathema,” Muriel said.

“Yes, Petronella, I really think you’ll like her, if you like us.”

“Ella.”

“Pardon?”

“I hate ‘Petronella’. It’s literally the worst name I can think of. So I go by Ella with my friends.”

“That’s a lovely name, dear,” Aziraphale said, taking a seat on the little couch. He was happy when Crowley came to sit beside him.

“Seems like your parents really didn’t give a shit about the fact that you two would have to live with those horrid names for the rest of your lives when they named you,” Crowley said with a sardonic smile as he draped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders easily. Aziraphale felt a thrill.

“God, no. But it had the opposite effects on us. Or something did, anyway. It made me want to reject everything I’ve been brought up in, but it basically shoved a giant stick up Michael’s arse.”

Aziraphale’s laugh caught him by surprise, and Crowley let out a bark of laughter, too. Muriel looked scandalized, but delighted. “Oh, wow, you really are like us.”

“Seem to be so far, yes,” Ella said, sitting much more relaxed than any daughter of an Earl probably should. It made Aziraphale like her more. She had a chagrined smile when she turned to Aziraphale. “I apologize, Aziraphale. My mother and your mother seem bent on getting the two of us together. Even though I told my mother it would be weird, with Mikey marrying your brother.”

“Oh, yes, that would be quite weird, indeed. But it would also be extremely weird because I’m gay as a maypole, as they say.”

Ella smiled. “Good. Then I guess that means we’re off the hook.”

“Seems so, yes,” he said, liking this young woman tremendously.

“I have a question,” Crowley said. “And this is for all three of you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What the hell is the deal with Gabriel and Michael? They don’t even seem to like each other!”

“They don't,” Ella said simply. “Not as far as I can tell. At least, Michael doesn’t like him.”

“Not much to like,” Crowley muttered, and Aziraphale swatted his leg lightly. Crowley grinned at him.

“So she doesn’t like him?”

“Oh, no. This is all but an arranged marriage,” Ella said. “My mother is basically forcing her. Honestly, I think that’s why they threw it together so fast, to minimize the chance of either one of them coming to their senses.”

“Why on earth aren’t your parents trying to have her marry another member of the peerage?”

Ella gave a smile. “My father is not as wealthy as Mother likes people to think he is. And your family is. She’s trying to pad his coffers, so to speak. Mother is incredibly image conscious, and she can’t keep up the facade without an influx of cash. And the peerage thing doesn’t matter all that much, because the title will pass down to whatever child Michael has, since she is the oldest. Thank God for that.”

“Our parents are forcing Gabriel, too!”

“Well, forcing is a strong word, Muriel…”

“It’s close enough. But to be fair, he’s not putting up much of a fight, since they wouldn't let him marry Bee.”

“Bee?” Ella asked, looking confused.

“Who is Bee?” Crowley chimed in.

“Oh, it’s quite a juicy story,” Aziraphale began.

“Bee was his partner. He was head over heels in love with them. I honestly think Bee is the only person he ever loved. And he was a completely different person when they were together.”

“He was,” Aziraphale agreed. “It was like he had a different personality altogether. A much more pleasant, playful one.”

“So what happened to her?”

“Them,” Muriel corrected.

“Them,” Ella accepted gracefully. “Was there a falling out?”

“Gabriel wanted to marry them,” Aziraphale said. “He had every intention of proposing to them. And then he made the mistake of telling my parents.”

“They didn’t take it well,” Muriel said. “I don’t know the details, because Gabriel won’t tell me and my parents certainly won’t, but there was some kind of meeting and the whole relationship was called off.”

“He became twice as hateful as he had ever been, and two months later, he announced his engagement to Michael,” Aziraphale added.

“That makes so much sense now!” Ella said. “I had wondered how they came to be.”

“Yes, this is an entirely loveless relationship.”

“Are your parents just allergic to love?”

“Well, they’re allergic to queer love,” Aziraphale said. “But hopefully they’re coming around to that.”

Crowley scoffed a little.

“Honestly, I feel bad for Gabriel. Not only is he going to be stuck with my evil sister for the rest of his life, his marriage is basically a business transaction! I’d be furious if my parents tried to sell me.”

Aziraphale sensed Crowley getting tense, and he felt guilty. Crowley was probably reacting to the idea that Aziraphale had paid him to be there, had practically bought him. But he didn’t have a chance to ask or soothe Crowley before Muriel launched into some further gossip.

The four of them spent a little over an hour gossiping, swapping stories, and getting to know each other. Aziraphale liked Ella more with every passing minute, and found himself quite glad that she was going to be in his life from now on. She would be a very welcome breath of fresh air. He was pleased, too, that Crowley seemed to like her. That mattered to him for some reason he couldn’t figure.

When Muriel yawned, though, they all decided to call it a night, and Aziraphale was relieved. He was looking forward to some time alone with Crowley.

He was surprised - but pleased - when Crowley reached over and took his hand as soon as they stood up to leave. He assumed that Crowley was just looking to make a good impression, and it was probably a good idea to hold hands, in case they ran up on someone. But he liked that he was holding hands with Crowley. He liked it a great deal - much more than he should.

They chatted about the events of the day as they made their way to the room, and once again, Aziraphale reflected on just how much he liked talking to Crowley. He just enjoyed being around him, and he hoped very much that this relationship would continue after the wedding - in some form or fashion.

In the room, Aziraphale grabbed his nightclothes and went into the bathroom to change. When he came out, Crowley had also changed into his nightclothes- which looked much more comfortable than his - and was closing the door. Aziraphale smiled to see him close it, and went to the bed, crawling in.

Crowley also crawled in, and Aziraphale was surprised when he rolled over on his side to face him. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to roll over and face Crowley, and oh, he really was a beautiful sight.

“Hello, dear,” he said, smiling.

Crowley smiled back. “Hiya, angel.”

That ‘angel’ gave Aziraphale a thrill it really shouldn’t have. He was probably just trying to stay in character.

“That was a very interesting conversation, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale said, twinkle in his eye.

“It was fantastic tea,” Crowley said.

“Tea?”

“Yeah. It’s slang for gossip. But to be honest, it put a lot of things into perspective.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Oh, no. Well, not bad about you. But it made me dislike your parents more.”

“Well, yes, I can see where you might.” He hesitated a moment. “I was thinking,” he began. “If it’s nice in the morning, I thought I might take you out on the grounds, after breakfast. Or after lunch.”

Crowley grinned. “Gonna show me where you found the faeries?”

“I thought I might,” Aziraphale teased. “But really, the grounds are quite pretty. I’d like to show you the places that were meaningful to me as a child.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Crowley said. “Plus it gets us out of the house, away from your parents.”

“Something happened,” Aziraphale said. “Something with my father.”

Crowley looked surprised and tensed a little. “Why do you say that?”

“You were a little less playful at dinner. And I caught you shooting daggers at him with your eyes.”

“Ah, yeah. I need to scale that back a bit. I promise to be more playful tomorrow.”

“No, there’s no need. I just want to know what he did to you.”

Crowley looked to be considering. “Angel, I promise I’ll tell you when the time is right. But now is not the time.”

“I can take it, Crowley. Really. I’m used to how he is.”

“I know. But I’m still kind of processing it.”

“Was it really so awful?”

Crowley nodded, and looked upset. “Pretty awful, yeah.”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, then reached out and covered Crowley’s hand, laying between them, with his own hand. “I’m sorry for whatever he did.”

Crowley curled his fingers around Aziraphale’s. “Angel… listen. I… I want to keep secrets with you and for you. I don’t want to keep them from you. But this… just let me think about it a little, okay? I promise I will tell you soon.”

“Alright, dear,” Aziraphale said, squeezing his hand. “I trust you implicitly.”

“Thank you. I’m honored by that trust, because I know that probably doesn’t come easy to you.”

“It doesn’t, no, but I have good instincts. And my instincts tell me to trust you.”

“Thank you, angel.”

“You’re welcome, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, feeling another little thrill at ‘angel’.

He closed his eyes and had almost drifted off when he heard, “Angel?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m having a really good time here with you. Thank you for bringing me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’m having a good time, too. Thank you for coming with me. Good night, dear.”

“Night,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, holding Crowley’s hand.

Chapter Text

Friday, 1 March

The sun was shining through the window near the bed, and Aziraphale woke up when its light hit his face. He was a little groggy at first, a little confused, but he realized he was at his parents’ house. It was somewhat dismaying, but then he realized that he was in bed with Crowley. Crowley, who was cuddling him. And there was something that felt very hard and not at all small poking him in the rear.

Oh, God, Crowley had an erection.

He debated at light speed what to do. Crowley’s breathing was slow and rhythmic, his arm under Aziraphale’s neck was lax, and so was his arm thrown across Aziraphale’s waist. He had no doubt that Crowley was asleep - and therefore had no idea what he was doing. He must be dreaming about someone: an old girlfriend, or perhaps a celebrity crush. He was given to understand that quite a lot of men found Scarlet Johansson attractive. And wasn’t she some manner of superhero? A ginger one? Crowley was almost certainly dreaming of someone like that.

But the reality of the situation for Aziraphale was that Crowley was cuddling him, and had his erection nudging his bum. Now he just needed to decide what to do about that. He knew the right thing to do - he should get up and leave the room, let Crowley have his dream in peace.

That wasn’t what he wanted to do, however. He wanted to lay there and soak up the joy that being held by this man - that he was falling for, like an idiot - gave him. And he had plausible deniability on his side - if Crowley woke up, Aziraphale could pretend to be asleep, or say that he’d just woken up. There was no reason that Crowley needed to know that Aziraphale was letting himself be held by a straight man. It could be his little secret.

So, with a little twinge of guilt, he let out a tiny sigh and relaxed into Crowley’s arms, scooting backwards just a hair so he was closer. Crowley made a sleepy noise and his arms tightened around him

For a moment, Aziraphale’s heart stopped. But within a couple of seconds, Crowley had relaxed again, and Aziraphale did, too.

As he laid there, he thought about Crowley, and how lucky he was that Fergus had introduced them. Lucky and a little cursed, he thought. Because he really, truly, genuinely liked Crowley. He thought he was interesting, and intelligent, and witty, and absolutely hilarious. He was also the most attractive man that Aziraphale had ever met, even if Aziraphale had initially thought that Crowley wasn’t his type. On paper, Crowley really shouldn’t be his type. But really, dating men that were ‘his type’ hadn’t worked out for him so far. And there was no way Crowley would ever actually date him. That was laughable.

He could, however, enjoy this moment, and allow himself to sink into a little daydream. He could let himself think about what it would be like to kiss Crowley, to touch him, to be filled by him. His mind wandered into territory that was quite pornographic, and he found himself with his own soaring erection. He debated with himself about what to do about it, and had just decided to go to the bathroom and touch himself when Crowley snuffled and stirred behind him.

Aziraphale held his breath, praying to a God that had never heard any of his pleas for Crowley to go back to sleep, so Aziraphale could slip away unnoticed. But that plea, like all of his others, went unheard, and Crowley continued to stir behind him while Aziraphale’s mind spun, trying to think of a way to get out of this.

He recognized the moment that Crowley woke up and realized he was cuddling Aziraphale. He tensed a little, and then he withdrew his hips back slowly. Aziraphale felt sharp disappointment.

“Are you awake?” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale wanted to lie. But he also never wanted to lie to Crowley. So he told the truth.

“A little bit.”

“Ah, good morning,” he rumbled, pulling back even more.

“Er, yes,” Aziraphale said, wondering frantically how on earth he was going to hide his erection. “Good morning.”

“I hope I wasn’t bothering you.”

“Oh, no. Not at all. I’ve only been awake a short time.”

“Good,” Crowley said, and withdrew more. “I was, ah, I was going to hop in the shower, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” Aziraphale reached for his mobile on the nightstand. “I think I might check the weather while you do that,” he said. He hadn’t intended to check the weather, but he couldn’t possibly let Crowley see him with a hard on.

“Should probably get moving,” Crowley said, even though he hesitated for a moment before he pulled away and sat up on the side of the bed. “I, um, I might be a minute. You sure you’re okay to wait?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale agreed. “I can wait all day.”

“Sounds good, angel,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale felt him get off the bed. He stared at the weather on his phone without even seeing it while he listened to Crowley rustle around, looking for clothes. “Back in a minute,” Crowley said, then the door to the en suite opened and closed.

Aziraphale rolled over immediately to make sure he was gone, and lay perfectly still, listening for the water to start running. The absolute second it did, he had his hand around his cock, working it, his eyes closed.

He imagined Crowley behind him, using slick, gentle fingers to open him while he laid kisses on Aziraphale’s shoulders and murmured filth. He imagined the way those fingers would feel, long and slender, and how he would beg for more. Crowley would acquiesce, and would replace his fingers with his thick cock, lining it up with Aziraphale’s arsehole and easing it in while Aziraphale whimpered his pleasure. Crowley would start fucking him slowly, he was sure, and then build up speed while Aziraphale begged for more, begged him to never stop. He would reach around and stroke Aziraphale’s cock at the same rhythm he was fucking him, and he would bite Aziraphale’s shoulder when he came, so Aziraphale would be able to feel him pulsing inside.

That last thought catapulted Aziraphale into his own orgasm, and he came with a whimper around his bitten lip, his eyes screwed shut while his cock emptied into his pajama trousers, all over his hand.

He lay there for a moment while he caught his breath, enjoying the tingles of the last vestiges of the orgasm - before he was racked with guilt. Not only had he just cuddled a man who had not consented to such an activity - a straight man - he had just masturbated while thinking of that man! How… how rude of him! Not like he could have asked permission to cuddle him - or wank about him - but… oh, bother. Aziraphale had no idea what he was thinking. His thoughts weren’t making sense.

But for now, he needed to clean up his mess inside his pajama trousers and clean off his hand before Crowley came out. And then he needed to get ready for this day. He knew that they were going to go out on the grounds, and he was excited about that. It looked like a pretty day for an excursion, albeit a bit chilly. But they would be out of the house, which was very, very appealing. Aziraphale intended to use this opportunity to find out more about Crowley. Hopefully he’d be able to find something that would make his crush fade.

That, he knew, was a long shot. He was a little afraid that he wasn’t crushing anymore, that he was sliding into ‘falling in love’ territory. More than a little afraid.

Yes, it would be ideal for him to find something out about Crowley that he didn’t like. He intended to do just that.

It was chilly out, but Crowley wasn’t really aware of it. He felt quite warm - and was very much enjoying their sojourn out onto the grounds.

He’d made a point to hold Aziraphale’s hand as much as possible, and had kissed his cheek twice at breakfast, just to piss off Aziraphale’s parents. He’d also asked Frances if her jewelry was Avon, just for the joy of it. The results had been highly gratifying: everyone had turned red, but only Aziraphale from stifled laughter. Honestly, he didn’t know which reaction he liked most.

He was still simmering about the moment with Derek yesterday, and was absolutely certain that that wouldn’t be the last of it. His biggest question was what and when to tell Aziraphale. There was no way he could give Aziraphale this information that wouldn’t hurt him, and hurting him was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to make him happy.

Crowley knew he liked Aziraphale. He knew he liked him tremendously. But if he was being really, truly honest with himself, he was starting to wonder whether that like was progressing into something more… ineffable. Something that would be more long-lasting. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about Aziraphale like that, but he really couldn’t help it. He was utterly taken with Aziraphale, and to be honest, the idea of something long-lasting with him was very, very appealing. He wasn’t there yet, but he felt sure it wouldn’t be long.
And Fergus had said Az liked him, too. Well, he had a hunch. But his hunches were good, he said.

Honestly, Crowley didn’t particularly need Fergus’ input - although it was welcome. He was fairly certain on his own that Aziraphale liked him, too. The question was what he should do about it. This particular five-day weekend was probably not the best time to start a relationship.

But why not? It was a wedding, romance was in the air. Should’ve been, anyway. It would be perfectly reasonable for a couple to come together at a wedding. Right? It was even likely.

Lots to think about.

At the moment, though, he was traipsing through the woods with Aziraphale, in the cold (that he still didn’t feel), looking for faeries. It was whimsical, harmless fun, but Crowley was a little surprised by just how pleasant it was. There was no such thing as faeries, of course, and they both knew that. Crowley very rarely indulged in whimsy, at least innocent whimsy that wasn’t also mischievous. But he was having a fine time indulging it today.

He found that he liked indulging Aziraphale in all things, all ways. That thought was just as thrilling as it was terrifying.

Aziraphale looked at his watch, then at Crowley. “I’m thinking that we should perhaps head back.”

“Awww, do we have to?” Crowley complained good-naturedly. “I was just starting to have fun.”

“Oh, stop,” Aziraphale said, and it was hard to tell whether he was blushing, given the fact that the cold had made his cheeks rosy.

“You’re right,” Crowley said, grinning. “I’ve been having fun the whole time.”

Now Aziraphale was definitely blushing, and Crowley loved to see it. “Well, I hate to cut the fun short, but we will be expected for lunch soon -”

“Ah, your family can hang -”

“And I’m a little peckish.”

“Well, that changes things dramatically,” he said with another smile. “Lead the way, angel.”

They turned around and started back in what Crowley assumed was the general direction of the manor. He kept casting glances over at Aziraphale, specifically the angel’s hand. He was very close, but not quite close enough to touch, and Crowley didn’t like that. He wanted to be touching him.

“So,” Aziraphale said from a couple of feet away. “Tell me about you and Fergus?”

“Not much to tell. He came in not long after he bought his Porsche, and I did a repair on it. But we struck up a friendship and have been mates ever since.”

“How close are you?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley grinned. “We’re close enough that he felt safe to recommend me to come with his best friend into a den of vipers for a week.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, looking taken aback. “I didn’t mean -”

“Relax, angel. I’m not complaining. Not in the least. I told you, I’m having a fantastic time with you.”

Aziraphale looked pleased. “I’m having a grand time with you, too. You’ve made an unbearable situation… fun. And I didn’t expect that.”

“I’m thrilled to have helped,” Crowley said, chuffed to bits. “To answer your question, Fergus and I are mates, but not like Watson and Holmes or anything. We exchange texts a couple times a week, and the occasional phone call. I’ve been to a couple of his matches, and he and I have gone to pubs or whatever a handful of times. Just to get a pint, you know how it is. But going out with Fergus is kind of difficult.”

“Why is that?”

“Have you been out with him? To a pub or something?”

“Oh, yes. Many times.”

“So you know that people tend to flock around him. Trying to catch his attention.”

“That must be nice to help catch dates,” Aziraphale said, his voice a little guarded. “He does attract so many women.”

“Yeah, and guys, too. I met one guy while I was out with him that I ended up dating for a while. He was super into hiking and trees, so we did that a fair amount. He taught me to identify trees by the leaf scar, but I’m not that great at identifying on sight. Still, I think this one is a Larch, unless I’m mistak - what’s wrong?” Crowley asked, noticing that Aziraphale had stopped walking.

Aziraphale looked pale all of the sudden, his eyes wide.

Crowley was alarmed. “Angel? What’s wrong?”

“You’re gay?” Aziraphale said, looking absolutely stunned.

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, confused. “Well, not gay-gay, but gay enough, I reckon. I’m bisexual.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about - wait. Are you telling me you had no idea?”

“No!” Aziraphale said. “I thought - I thought you were straight!”

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh, long and loud. “You and Fergus both! Must be something in your friend-DNA or something. Two peas in a pod, you two.”

“You really are queer?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yeah,” Crowley said, grinning, “I’m queer. I like men.”

“Well that - that puts a whole different spin on things,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley was thrilled by that. Now that the miscommunication had been cleared up, surely Aziraphale would realize that he was into him. Right? He had to. Crowley was making it so obvious.

He chuckled, unable to help it, very happy about this turn of events. Now he just needed to play his cards right, and he might come out of this with a boyfriend. The best boyfriend anyone ever had, too.

“C’mon, angel,” he said, inclining his head towards the general direction of the manor. “Let’s get you fed, yeah?”

“Ah, yes. I’m coming.”

Crowley was well chuffed at the moment, both with himself and his prospects, when all of the sudden, his foot slipped on some wet leaves and he nearly tumbled. He was bracing himself to hit the cold ground when Aziraphale grabbed him with strong hands and kept him upright. Crowley felt an absolute thrill at that… holy shit, the angel was strong.

“Careful there,” Aziraphale said, helping Crowley right himself. “Your shoes aren’t exactly ideal for hiking.”

“No they’re not.” Crowley had a thought that made him smile. “Here.” He reached out and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. “Think maybe you should hold my hand, to keep me safe.”

Aziraphale blushed prettily, and Crowley was absolutely certain that Aziraphale saw the emotion in his eyes. He smiled at him and squeezed his hand, then they started walking again.

“I have to tell you, I would have loved this much room to run around in when I was a kid,” he said. “I won’t say you’re lucky, since your family are all twats, and I don’t envy you the upbringing you had, but I would have envied this much room.”

“You grew up in the city?”

“Yeah, in Peckham. Council estate. Speaking of, remind me to drop that into conversation, especially when the Earl is around.”

Aziraphale tittered. “Alright. But you were saying?”

“Oh, yeah. So anyway, we were on a council estate, so there weren’t a lot of trees and space, unless we went to the park. Which we did a lot.” He grinned. “I was something of a hyperactive kid, and my mother would take me to the park so I could run out all that energy. Then put me to bed, so I would sleep.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. “I’m sorry you grew up on an estate.”

“Nah, don’t be. It was fine, there were a lot of kids around. I would have loved to have skies this dark for star gazing. There’s barely any light pollution out here.”

“You enjoy astronomy?”

“I do, yeah,” he said with a little grin. “The best gift anyone ever got me was a cheap telescope. I loved that thing.”

“Who bought that for you?”

“My mum. She’s absolutely great. She kept me out of trouble. You’re going to love her.”

“I’m sure I will,” Aziraphale said, with a small smile.

Crowley smiled to himself - both because of the way Aziraphale was smiling at him, but also at the thought of Aziraphale meeting his mother. He wanted that very much. But for now… “I learned to work on cars from one of her boyfriends.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was about twelve or so, and he was a mechanic. He was trying to bond with me to get closer to my mother, so he taught me some basic stuff about cars. I was hooked from the first time I turned a socket wrench. I’d found my calling. I learned everything I could from him until my mother kicked him to the curb, and then I set out to learn everything I could on my own. When I finished school, I went to trade school to learn as much as I could. I graduated mechanic school top of my class and got hired at the garage I now own. The rest is history.” He grinned again. “It was my mother that inspired a love of plants.”

“Oh? You like plants?”

“Love ‘em. I thought I had told you when you took me to the conservatory.”

“Did you? Oh, you did, didn’t you? I’m sorry.”

“No worries. And yeah, I really love plants a lot. Got twenty-four in my flat.”

“Twenty-four?” Aziraphale asked with a twinkle in his eye. “Did you grow two more since yesterday, when you told me twenty-two?”

It took Crowley a second to catch on, but when he did, he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, grinning at him. “You cheeky bastard.”

Aziraphale giggled, and God, he loved that sound. “Who’s taking care of them while you’re in the country?”

“My neighbor, Mrs. Higgins. She’s the only one I trust with them. She doesn’t baby them.”

Aziraphale looked confused. “How do you baby a plant?”

“I don’t,” Crowley said with a silly grin. “Have you ever heard about how singing and talking to plants makes them grow better? And how they thrive to heavy metal music?”

“Er, no, I can’t say that I have.”

“Ah. Well, that’s been proven over and over. So I combined the two concepts. I talk to my plants - but I don’t coddle them. And sometimes I shout at them.”

“You shout at plants?” Aziraphale asked, looking amused and surprised.

“Yep. I sure do. Sometimes I’ll monologue to them about some kind of problem I’m having. I find that if I lay all my problems out aloud, I’ll often find the solution that’s been evading me. So I monologue to them about whatever is going on.”

“My dear, you’d have to monologue to them, since they can’t talk.”

Crowley chuckled and squeezed his hand. His voice was dripping with affection when he said, “So bloody cheeky.”

They talked a little more about small topics, and Crowley was very aware that they were mostly talking about him, but he didn't mind that for now. He wanted Aziraphale to have all the information about him that he could, so he could decide whether or not to date him when Crowley asked. Which he was more and more convinced he should do very soon.

The manor was in sight, albeit a quarter mile away, when Aziraphale stopped speaking mid-sentence and pulled out his mobile. Crowley was glad he didn’t let go of his hand, and then he saw a brilliant smile spread across Aziraphale’s face.

“What? What’s going on, angel?”

Aziraphale looked up from his phone. “She’s here. She’s waiting for us.”

“Who is here?”

“Anathema. Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s wonderful, and she’s going to adore you.”

Crowley squeezed his hand. “Then by all means, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was practically dragging Crowley across the lawn towards the manor, and Crowley was happy to go along. Apparently, it was time to meet Anathema, and he was excited to meet a family member that Aziraphale actually liked. But he had a couple of questions - and a few minutes before they got to the house, so he decided to ask.

“You haven’t told me an awful lot about this cousin of yours.”

“Oh,” said Aziraphale. “Well, her name is Anathema, Anathema Device. She’s my father’s sister’s child, which is why the different last name. And for a long time, she was my only friend in this family. What with Muriel being so much younger.”

“So she’s nice?”

“She’s very nice! She’s funny and kind and generous and… well, she’s a little bit quirky, I guess you’d say.”

“How so?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I’ve told you a bit about our family history. The way we have a witch ancestor.”

“Yes, and you told me that Anathema is the only one that adheres to the old teachings or whatever.”

“Yes, kind of. She claims to be a witch, too. She reads auras and tea leaves and ley lines and whatever else. And to be entirely fair to her, she’s also uncannily accurate.”

“Uh oh,” Crowley said with a grin. “Should I watch myself around her? Not tell her my birthdate?”

“She’s certain to ask,” Aziraphale said. “There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s going to ask. But you’re not beholden to tell her. I certainly won’t.”

“Do you know my birthdate?” Crowley asked, amused.

Aziraphale looked a little surprised for a minute. “Do you know, I don’t think I do?”

“Twentieth of June.”

“Ah, that’s a lovely time of year.”

“When is yours?”

“Third of March.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “You’re joking! That’s Sunday!”

“It is, yes,” Aziraphale said.

He processed this for a moment, a little stunned, then said, “Alright, two things: first, we’re absolutely going to do something to celebrate your birthday when we leave here -”

“Oh, now really, you don’t have to -”

“Hush. I want to. We’re going to do something fun, something you want to do. Second of all, why the hell is your family hosting an event on your birthday!?”

Aziraphale gave him a wry grin. “My dear, hasn’t it become clear to you that my family cares very little about me? I’ll be surprised if any of them actually remember it.”

He huffed, feeling another flash of anger towards Aziraphale’s parents. “Well, that just stiffens my resolve. We are one hundred percent having some type of celebration for you, maybe next weekend so I have a little time to plan.”

Aziraphale was flushing. “You’re so silly, dear…”

Crowley didn’t argue, but he was already making plans - both for Monday, when they left this place, and for next weekend. Maybe he should call Fergus…

They finally got to the manor and Aziraphale opened the door to let them in, but he was thrilled when he didn’t release his hand. “Did you find out if she was bringing her boyfriend? Ned or something?”

“Newton, I believe. And I think he’s with her, yes.”

“Have you met him? I’m guessing not, since you’re not sure of his name.”

“I haven’t, no. They’ve only been dating since just before Christmas, so things are fairly new. She gushes about him, so I assume he’s nice. I don’t think Anathema would take up with a man who wasn’t. She’s not the type.”

“Unlike you,” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale gave a little smile. “Unlike me, yes.”

Crowley heard a woman laughing a little way down the hall, and he knew right off that that was Anathema. He also noticed that the laughter seemed warm, and he was looking even more forward to meeting her all of the sudden.

Aziraphale never slowed down as he rounded the corner into the lounge, and Crowley followed him eagerly. There was a young woman standing there, tall, with long, brown hair, a flowing skirt, and round glasses on her pretty face. Crowley could see the family resemblance at once. The man with her, though, looked like the opposite of her type. He was good looking, but he was also nerdy, and looked awkward in his own skin. He’d obviously dressed to impress (or so he thought) in khakis and a sportcoat with a tie that looked suspiciously like the Fourth Doctor’s scarf.

He felt a pang of disappointment when Aziraphale released his hand and rushed to Anathema, wrapping his arms around her in the biggest show of enthusiasm he’d seen from him so far. His disappointment was immediately forgotten as he saw just how happy Aziraphale was.

“Look at you!” Anathema said, stepping back and looking Aziraphale up and down. “You look fantastic! And your hair is getting a bit longer!”

“Yes, I am actually due for a trim. Your hair is long as ever, I see.”

She laughed. “I actually just had the dead ends taken off a couple weeks ago. Who’s this?” she asked, looking at Crowley.

Aziraphale was beaming when he stepped backwards and put his arm around Crowley. “This is Crowley. He’s my boyfriend.”

Crowley thought he’d burst with pride. He wanted to make that true - immediately.

Anathema gave him a raking, up and down look, even though she was smiling. “Well aren’t you a dreamboat?”

Newt gave a long-suffering sigh. “Anathema…”

“What? He’s gay and taken. You’re in the clear, Newt,” she said, and then pressed a little kiss to the nerd’s cheek. He looked mollified.

“Hello, Newt,” Aziraphale said, stepping forward to offer his hand. “I’m Aziraphale Eastgate, Anathema’s cousin. We’re very happy you’ve joined us.”

“Yes, well, Anathema said that this was the opportune time to meet her family, since they’d be distracted. She’s also said such lovely things about you,” Newt said, shaking his hand. Then he shook Crowley’s hand. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.”

“I haven’t either,” Anathema said, and Crowley sensed something from her. It wasn’t malicious, she was just knowing.

“Have you seen anyone else?”

“Aunt Fran and Uncle D met us when we got here.” She snickered. “We got the talk about how we would be sharing a room, but we’d better not commit any hanky panky while under the good lord’s roof.”

Crowley and Aziraphale both laughed. “Yes, we got the same talk,” Aziraphale said.

She was giving Crowley another look. “Yeah, I bet Aunt Fran and Uncle D just love you, don’t they?” she said.

“It’s been an experience,” Crowley said as diplomatically as he was able.

Now she was looking back and forth between Aziraphale and Crowley. “What are you two not telling me?”

Crowley shot Aziraphale a meaningful look, and he gave a nod. “It’s okay. We can tell her the truth.”

“If you’re sure,” Crowley said. He didn’t know how much Aziraphale was going to tell them, but he was prepared to go along with whatever he said.

Aziraphale turned to Anathema and Newt. “Crowley has been winding them up. Tweaking their noses.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes,” Crowley said. “When we got here, they were unspeakably rude - mostly to Aziraphale.”

Anathema scoffed. “Not like that’s any different.”

“They also clearly disapproved of me. So I asked Aziraphale - if there’s no way to win their approval, why not piss them off a bit?”

“That’s absolutely delightful,” Anathema said, her eyes dancing. “What have you been doing?”

“He’s been an utter menace,” Aziraphale said with pure relish. “He’s had poor table manners - and you know how they are about that.”

“I do, very well.”

“He’s also taken any excuse to make a little jab, particularly at my father. It really has been delightful.”

Newt looked uncertain. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to make them angry?”

Crowley was amused when Anathema and Aziraphale answered in unison: “Yes.”

“They’ve always been arseholes to everyone, our whole lives. Why shouldn’t they get any of that back?”

“I don’t know. I retract the question.”

Anathema put an arm around him. “It was a good question, Newt. Just not necessary in this case. It would be a fair question for anyone else, but you have to know my aunt and uncle.”

“I’m starting to think that maybe coming was a bad idea,” Newt said.

“Oh, no,” Crowley said, teasing. “You can’t leave. You have to stay. There is a shortage of sane people in this house, and I need all the allies I can get.”

Aziraphale giggled and squeezed his hand, and Anathema squeezed Newt’s. “He’s staying. He just might not join in on the shenanigans. He’s a little skittish of ruffling feathers.”

“I am, yeah,” Newt agreed. “I’m really nervous about this.”

“Then I’m doing you a favor,” Crowley said, smiling. “If they’re focusing their ire on me, it won’t be aimed at you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Newt said with a growing smile. “I guess that is right.” Then he sobered. “But I don’t want you to take a bullet for me…”

“Oh, I’m not,” Crowley said. “The bullet is aimed right between my fucking eyes.” Then he hesitated. “I apologize, I shouldn’t have sworn in front of a lady.”

Anathema, Newt, and Aziraphale laughed. “It’s alright to swear in front of Anathema, darling. She’s one of us.”

Crowley liked that ‘darling’ almost as much as he liked the touch of Aziraphale’s hand on his chest. He’d been intending for a little while to get Aziraphale to date him as soon as this weekend was over - now he was determined to get Aziraphale to be his as soon as humanly possible. And he was going to be on the lookout for the right moment to kiss him - really kiss him.

“You’re godamn right,” Anathema said.

They seemed to be waiting for Crowley to respond. “I’m sorry? I was lost in thought.”

Anathema looked knowing again. And pleased. He hoped that was a good thing.

“You lot are going to the rehearsal dinner, right?” Aziraphale asked. “At the Village Tavern?”

“We are,” Anathema said.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale. “I thought there was going to be dinner and dancing.”

“There will be. The Village Tavern is very posh and has a ballroom.”

“Ah, I see,” Crowley said, then he turned to Anathema. “Would you two like to ride with us? My car seats four.”

“We’re driving?”

Crowley shot him a look, debating what to say. “Yeah, I think I want to keep you with me. I know they’re trying to separate us, and I don’t want it to work. So I’m keeping you as close as I can. Is that alright?”

Aziraphale was giving him a soft look. “I think that’s fantastic, darling. Just fantastic.”

Scratch looking for the right opportunity. Crowley was determined to make the right opportunity… and kiss him tonight.

The rehearsal had gone well, followed by the dinner, and Aziraphale had noticed that Crowley had been less mischievous. He figured that was probably because he was seated at a table with Aziraphale, Anathema, Newt, Muriel, and Ella - the ‘kids table’, as one of the adults named it. That was just fine with Aziraphale. Crowley had been more relaxed and comfortable at the ‘kids table’, and that was preferable, for him. He liked when Crowley was comfortable. Besides, his parents were being more… extra than usual, attempting to impress the Earl and Countess. Better to keep Crowley away from all that.

After the dinner - which had been excellent - there were a couple of obnoxious toasts that Aziraphale tried very hard to ignore in favor of enjoying Crowley’s little—but noticeable to the Eastgates—snide asides. Then the dancing started. Frances had come over immediately and started pairing people off, having Aziraphale dance with Ella first, and then with Anathema. She didn’t suggest anyone for Crowley to dance with, but Crowley didn’t seem overly bothered. He just sat at the table and talked to Newt, seeming to be happy - although he did look over at Aziraphale frequently. Almost as if he was trying to keep tabs on him. And for some reason, Aziraphale found that endearing.

Anathema gushed while they were dancing about how delighted she was for him that he’d met such a great guy, how they seemed to go together so well, and something about matching magenta auras. Aziraphale felt guilty, for the first time, about not telling a member of his family the entire truth, and he reconsidered doing so. He didn’t want to, but he wondered whether it would be right as they danced. In the end, he elected not to tell her. Not yet. One day, he would tell her the whole story, but not until the end of this weekend. They’d have a good laugh over it, while Aziraphale nursed his wounded heart, and maybe he’d even tell her the truth about how he felt about Crowley. He would play all of that by ear. For the moment, though, he wasn’t going to tell her anything.

The dance ended, and Aziraphale attempted to escort Anathema over to Newt and Crowley. They were stopped on the way by his mother, who demanded a dance. Aziraphale went with her grudgingly, and tried to have a good time, but the whole time he was casting looks over at Crowley. His mother was chattering about wedding things that he didn’t care about, and he was doing his best to be a respectful listener, but his attention was wandering - until she said, “You know, Aziraphale, if you really are hell-bent on your decision to date men -”

“It’s not a decision, mother,” he said a little testily. “I was born this way.”

She ignored him. “If you must take up with a man, why not let us introduce you to some quality men? Men from good families, with acreage? We could possibly even find you some manner of noble -”

“No, Mother,” he said as forcefully as he was able. “I’m quite happy with the man I have, and don’t want you playing matchmaker. Even if you did try to set me up with a man, you seem to have no idea of the type of man I like.”

“But Aziraphale, I simply do not understand what you see in this… mechanic. He is not what we’d envisioned for you -”

“Pardon me, may I cut in?” Aziraphale heard, and looked to his left to see Crowley standing there with a smile on his face.

He couldn’t help the way his whole self blossomed into joy. “Crowley,” he said in a breathy voice.

“If you’ll excuse me, my son and I were having a private conversation,” Frances sneered.

“Mother, if it’s all the same to you, I’d very much like to dance with Crowley now. Thank you for dancing with me.”

She gave him a deeply disapproving look, then gave Crowley a look that was positively scathing. Aziraphale was sure that, had she not considered herself a refined lady, she’d have stomped off.

Crowley seemed unbothered by her temper and just swept Aziraphale into his arms, while Aziraphale tried very hard not to melt. He wasn’t able to stop himself from looking at Crowley with hearts shooting out of his eyes, but he figured that’s the way he was supposed to look at his boyfriend, so he didn’t see the harm. Plus, Crowley was looking at him the same way, excellent actor that he was.

“Hiya, angel,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Did I cut in at a bad time?”

“No, it was just the right time. She was trying to convince me to break up with you and let her find me a suitable bloke.”

Crowley looked a little guarded at that, and Aziraphale rushed forward, even though he didn’t know why he was doing so.

“I told her I was very happy with you and had no desire for her to set me up with anyone.”

Crowley’s face cleared and he tightened his arms around Aziraphale a little. “Good. I’m very glad to hear it.”

Aziraphale didn’t want to read too much into that. Thankfully he caught sight of the Earl with Ella, and it reminded him of something. He brightened. “Oh, I have something to tell you. Something you’ll like.”

“Tell me.”

“The Earl saw your car, and he complimented it to my father. He thought that it was my father’s car, and he couldn’t understand why he was letting you drive us around in it.”

Crowley threw back his head and laughed, exposing his long neck. Aziraphale was laughing, too, but he was also busy wondering what it would taste like to kiss Crowley’s pulse point.

“So is that why he looks like he’s been sucking raw eggs all night?”

“That’s exactly it,” Aziraphale said. “It’s really the funniest mischief you’ve caused, and you didn’t even do anything.”

“Oh, that’s great. I showed up your father. What a faux pas!” Crowley joked.

“Indeed,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley’s eyes darkend a little. “I know another faux pas that’s about to happen.”

“You do?”

“I do, yes.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll be wearing a tuxedo Sunday, right?”

“Yes, we’re all wearing matching suits. Why?”

Crowley leaned over and murmured in his ear, “You’re going to outshine your brother.”

Aziraphale shivered involuntarily, both from the sentiment and the feeling of Crowey’s breath on his ear, and he tried not to let on. “Oh, you-” he began, but he didn’t get to finish, because Crowley was kissing him.

Although it wasn’t technically their first kiss, it was everything Aziraphale had always dreamed his first kiss would be. It was gentle, it was sweet, it was soft, and it was the epitome of romance. Crowley’s lips were so soft when they glided over his mouth, and Aziraphale was quite sure that he was about to float away. Then Crowley parted his lips, sending his tongue out to trace Aziraphale’s lips, and he was now absolutely certain he was going to float away. It felt like violins were swelling into background music, and hearts were soaring all around them, and it was… it was the most perfect moment of Aziraphale’s life to date.

He realized in that exact moment that he was in love. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Aziraphale was dreadfully disappointed when the kiss broke, and he blinked up at Crowley with doe-like eyes. Crowley was looking at him with the same soft expression, and it would be so easy for him to believe that this was real, that this was not for show, but he simply couldn’t let himself. That way lay madness, and he needed to keep himself grounded. But oh, God, he wanted to believe it was real…

“You know,” Crowley rumbled, dipping his nose to nudge Aziraphale’s, ‘I don’t think this party could get better from here.”

“You don’t?”

“No. No, I think the only responsible thing to do is to sneak out and go home.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Could we?”

“We absolutely can. And we’ll even give Anathema and Newt a lift back, if you want to.” He hesitated a moment. “But I think I’m ready for bed.”

Aziraphale was very ready for bed, too, but not in the same way Crowley was.

“You’re right,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” Crowley said, then stepped backwards and took Aziraphale’s hand. “Come on, angel. Let’s get you out of here.”

Aziraphale followed without a question.

Crowley was thrilled as they said goodnight to Anathema and Newt, then walked towards the rose bedroom. Aziraphale was still holding his hand, and didn’t seem eager to let go. Plus, best of all, his kiss had been well-received. Crowley was wildly hopeful that that had just been the first of thousands to come.

He was a little disappointed when Aziraphale released his hand when they got to the rose room and they started going about their nighttime routines. The angel seemed slightly more aloof, now that they were behind closed doors, and Crowley was somewhat puzzled by that, but not alarmed. Crowley himself was a little nervous about going to bed with Aziraphale after the kiss they’d just shared. Their whole relationship had changed, and that could be intimidating. If Aziraphale was hesitant to take things further, Crowley would respect that.

But when they got into the bed, Aziraphale just lay on his back on his side of the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Crowley didn’t like that one bit, he desperately wanted his arms around him, so he decided to do a little gentle prodding.

He rolled over to face Aziraphale and smiled. “Hey, angel?”

“Yes, dear?”

Crowley missed the darling, but didn’t comment. “I have to tell you that I’ve enjoyed waking up beside you the last couple of mornings.”

Aziraphale turned his head to look at him. “You have?”

“Yeah. You’re warm and snuggly and I’ve really liked it. So I was wondering if maybe you’d let me hold you when we go to sleep?”

He looked a little surprised for a few moments, then gave a shy smile. “I think I could go along with that. If you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure,” Crowley said. “C’mere.”

He pulled Aziraphale into his arms and got him all situated, so Aziraphale was lying facing him and Crowley had his arms around him. It just felt so good to hold Aziraphale, it felt so fucking right to have him in his arms.

In that moment, Crowley realized that he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Aziraphale Eastgate. And he was elated about it.

They lay quietly for a few minutes until Aziraphale said, in a voice so low he almost didn’t hear it, “Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“In case I forget to tell you later, thank you so much. For everything. I’m so glad that you’re here with me.”

Crowley beamed at him. “I couldn’t be happier to be here with you. Now rest, sweetheart,” he said, kissing him on the forehead. “I’ll be here in the morning, and we have a big day tomorrow.”

“We do, yes,” Aziraphale said. “Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight, angel.”

Chapter Text

Saturday, 2 March

Crowley was absolutely delighted to wake up with Aziraphale in his arms again. Holding him just felt so inexplicably right. It was comfortable - both physically and emotionally. Crowley felt utterly peaceful while he was holding his love. And now that their relationship had changed, he was going to get to hold the angel like this a lot more. The thought made him smile, even though his eyes were closed, and he took a deep breath through his nose, so he could get his love’s scent. Fucking hell, he smelled so, so good.

He had been in love before, twice, and he wouldn’t negate those experiences. They had both been beautiful, in their way. But something about this just felt… different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but there was a different quality to the way he felt about Aziraphale than he had about the other times he’d been in love. Part of it was probably that Aziraphale was a much different person. He was a lot… gentler than the people Crowley usually sought out. He was lighter, somehow, he was just… soft. Crowley had never been attracted to soft people like Aziraphale, but now he was thinking that he’d missed out. Then again, if he’d taken up with someone like Aziraphale years ago, he might not have met Aziraphale, and that would have been fucking tragic.

Crowley didn’t even like to think about that, so he brushed it aside. He sought out Aziraphale’s hand, warm and soft, to hold it, and just because he could, he kissed his shoulder. The idea that he was going to be able to kiss Aziraphale any time he wanted to from now on was downright dizzying.

Aziraphale startled, and Crowley immediately set out to soothe him, still holding his hand. “Shh, angel.”

“What’s going on?”

“You’re just waking up, but I’m here,” Crowley crooned, and kissed his shoulder.

Aziraphale was still a minute. “You have an erection.”

Crowley’s heart sank. He’d thought… well, he’d been wrong. “I do, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, angel. I’m not trying to push you, I swear. It’s just that you - you smell so fucking good, and you’re so soft, and I just…” He let out a little frustrated growl and started to withdraw. “I’m sorry. I overstepped. I’ll quit bothering you. It’s just…” He sighed. “I’m fucking crazy about you, angel, and I can’t help it.”

Aziraphale was still for just a moment, then he flipped over to face Crowley. He looked surprised, like this was brand new information. But there was also bright hope in his eyes, and it made Crowley’s heart beat faster.

“Ducks.”

Crowley’s face screwed up in question. “Ducks? What does that - oh,” he said, when he remembered. The safe word. The thing they would say when they wanted to stop pretending and be real with each other.

He smiled. “Sweetheart, I am being honest with you. This is not a fuckery.”

“You… really? You meant that?”

“That I’m crazy about you?”

Aziraphale nodded, his eyes still wide. “Yes. That.”

“Are you honestly surprised?” he challenged.

“I’m - yes! I am!”

Crowley was simultaneously amused and puzzled. “Why do you think I’ve been kissing you? Why do you think I’ve stayed?”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment. “It wasn’t for the money?”

Crowley grinned at him, the most brilliant he believed he’d ever given, then reached up and cupped Aziraphale’s soft, sweet cheek. “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot,” he complained, still smiling, right before he covered Aziraphale’s mouth in a kiss.

He felt that kiss in every cell of his body. His heart soared. But he was careful to keep the kiss soft, gentle, and romantic - he didn’t want to spook Aziraphale. He did, however, want to make him understand that he was crazy about him. That he was serious about him. He was going slow because he was a little afraid he’d combust if things went much faster- but at the same time, he very much wanted things to go faster. He didn't know what he wanted - he just knew he wanted Aziraphale.

Aziraphale’s eyes were closed when Crowley gentled the kiss and pulled back. He looked so soft in that moment, and Crowley couldn’t help but smile.

“Angel?” he said softly.

Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open. “I can’t - I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what?”

“That you’re interested in me.”

Crowley grinned. “I'm not interested in you, sweetheart. I told you: I’m crazy about you. And I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for… well, I can’t say a long time, but long enough. Can I do it again? Please?”

Aziraphale kissed him that time, putting his hand on the back of Crowley’s head and sending his tongue out to explore Crowley’s mouth. The first brush of his tongue against Crowley’s was electric. He growled into his mouth and pulled him closer, wrapped his arms around him. It felt like his entire body was vibrating with joy, and he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t died and gone to heaven. If there was a heaven, he was quite sure that it would involve Aziraphale’s kisses.

Crowley tried very hard to be respectful while they were kissing, but it wasn’t easy. He was already hard, and Aziraphale had his body pressed up against him. He didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want, but oh, fuck, Crowley wanted.

He was placing worshipful kisses to Aziraphale’s neck - and God, his smell was more concentrated here, it was making him insane - when something occurred to him.

“So I don’t know if you know this, sweetheart,” he rumbled against Aziraphale’s skin. “But you’ve been giving off some signals.”

Aziraphale’s voice was breathy when he answered, “What signals?”

Crowley nipped his throat. “That you’re as mad about me as I am about you. But I might have been misreading things -”

“You weren’t. Aren’t. Isn’t it written all over my face?”

“Can’t see your face at the moment,” Crowley teased, working on leaving a mark on Aziraphale’s neck for all to see.

“Wretched thing,” Aziraphale cooed, sliding his hand under the back of Crowley’s shirt, and oh, fuck, his hands felt so good… “I had to bring myself off while you were in the shower, just so I wouldn’t be humiliated when you saw how much I want you.”

Crowley raised his head and grinned at him. “Really?”

“Yes, darling.”

“I was jerking off at the exact same time.”

“You don’t even know what day I did that.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve been wanking every day. If I keep it up, my dick is going to look like a handlebar grip.”

Aziraphale laughed merrily, and Crowley was smiling when he captured his mouth and kissed him slowly, as romantically as he could. Aziraphale’s hands were still wandering under his shirt, and Crowley decided that he’d explode if he didn’t feel Aziraphale’s soft skin. So he sent his hands under his shirt, letting his hands soak up the warmth of him. Oh, he felt so good…

Crowley leaned his head back, his eyes closed, when Aziraphale started applying kisses to his neck. “Oh, darling, you taste exquisite… You’re better than any delicacy…”

He couldn’t help grinding against Aziraphale a little, letting him feel how hard he was. It was the thrill of a lifetime when he felt Aziraphale hard against him - and holy fuck, he felt big. Crowley shivered a little, both from the thought of all the things he wanted to do with that cock and from the gentle scrape of Aziraphale’s teeth against his jugular. He had never been more turned on, this was simply the most erotic experience of his life, and he was almost overcome with love…

Crowley had just slid his hand down the back of Aziraphale’s pajama trousers, caressing his bum, when Aziraphale said, “Wait.”

He pulled back immediately, removing his hands and raising them. “What? What did I do? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Aziraphale said, “I just… Oh, you are going to think this is silly.”

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“I just… I don’t have sex with men that I’m not dating. That I’m not in a relationship with.”

Crowley stared at him blankly for a moment. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“I’m quite serious, yes,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley was so flustered he didn’t see the glint in Aziraphale’s eye.

His mind spun for a moment. “How much more obvi-”

Aziraphale cracked up laughing, and Crowley squinted his eyes at him.

“And to think, my drama teacher said I had no potential as an actor.”

“You were joking?”

“Absolutely. I’d never attempt to manipulate you in such a way. I just thought I’d show you that I am capable of mischief. How did I do?”

Crowley just stared at him for a moment, realizing that he’d been mistaken before and he’d only thought he was in love. Now he was in love. Aziraphale was grinning like a bastard and Crowley was just so utterly charmed....

“Why you…” he growled, then attacked. Aziraphale shrieked with laughter while Crowley tickled him. Crowley had never been so happy in his life as they rolled around on the creaking bed.

After a couple of minutes, though, Crowley found himself on top of Aziraphale, kissing him, and Aziraphale’s hands were exploring. He rolled his hips forward when Aziraphale slid his hands down the back of his flannel pajama trousers, gripping his arse, and Aziraphale’s cock felt massive, pressing against his hip. Crowley rearranged his body so he could get his hand between them and first caressed Aziraphale’s soft tummy, before he slid his hand down into Aziraphale’s pants and found his cock. Oh, God, nothing had ever felt better to him than this prick. It was hard, so hard, although it was also soft. Crowley was reminded of velvet over steel. He thought he’d die if he didn’t get it in his mouth soon, but they needed to talk first.

“Angel?” he said between kisses.

“Yes, my darling?”

“I want to suck your cock. I want to suck it so fucking bad.”

“You can, my sweet. You can do anything you want to me.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said as he stroked Aziraphale’s cock and nibbled his throat. “I really want us to make love, but we can’t. We don’t have any condoms.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, sounding surprised. “Well, um, there’s no need, at least for me. I get tested every year, in January. And I haven’t had any partners in… a long time.”

Crowley grinned against his skin. “That’s lovely to hear. I also get tested every year, and I haven’t had any partners in the last six months.”

“Well, then, I see no reason why we can’t make love.”

“There is one other reason.”

“Why is that? If this is because of my joke earlier -”

“It’s not that. We don’t have any lube, sweetheart.”

Aziraphale’s face screwed up in disappointment. “Oh. Well, that does put a damper on things, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” Crowley said, then suckled his earlobe. After he blew on it, he grumbled, “As I mentioned, I very much want to suck your cock. I want to taste you, I want to make you lose your mind, I want to have you writhing on the bed, begging... and then I want you to come right down my throat.”

Aziraphale shivered under him, and Crowley grinned.

“Would that be alright? Would you like me to suck your cock, angel?” he asked sweetly, almost innocently.

“I’d - yes. I’d love that,” Aziraphale replied, his breath shaky.

“Excellent,” Crowley said, right before he kissed Aziraphale messily. Just to be a bastard, he sucked on Aziraphale’s tongue, then nibbled his lip and sucked that while he was pulling away, making Aziraphale whimper. “You just lie there,” he said as he moved away from Aziraphale’s neck and started on his collarbones. “Let me take care of you, angel. Let me make you feel good.”

“Al- alright,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley grinned when he heard that Aziraphale still sounded trembly. He applied kisses down Aziraphale’s body, even though it was still clothed. That was probably a good thing, because he might have combusted if all of Aziraphale’s skin was on display.

While he made his way south, he released Aziraphale’s cock long enough to pull down his pajama trousers and pants to his thighs, baring his cock. Once it was exposed, he took a moment to look at it, and oh, fuck, there had never been a more perfect cock. It was absolutely beautiful: tall, curved towards his belly, and deliciously thick.

“Fucking hell, angel,” Crowley swore, wrapping his hand around Aziraphale and stroking him again, watching it move in his hand. A little bead of moisture appeared at the tip, and his mouth watered to taste it. He turned to look at Aziraphale, who was looking almost wrecked even though they hadn’t started properly yet, and asked, “Do you like to top or bottom?”

Aziraphale looked a little confused by the question, and it took him a moment to gather himself before he said, “I… I like both, but I generally prefer to bottom. But I thought we weren’t going to make love?”

“We’re not, not right now. And I really like to top, so we’re compatible there. But you have to promise me you’ll fuck me with this fat cock sometime. I need it, I need to feel it inside me.”

“Anything, Crowley, I’ll do anything, just please…”

Crowley grinned victoriously, then bent down to start giving attention to Aziraphale’s cock. He started at his bollocks, peppering them with kisses, then applied little butterfly kisses up his shaft until he got to the tip, where he darted out his tongue to taste the drop there. Aziraphale moaned, and Crowley did, too, as his taste exploded in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I need more of that right now,” he said, just before he opened his mouth and took Aziraphale’s cockhead in.

Aziraphale cried out and arched his back, bringing his hands up to fist in Crowley’s hair seemingly without thinking, while Crowley swirled his tongue around the tip to get as much of that taste as he could. When Aziraphale’s hands tightened in his hair, he took him a little deeper, then deeper, a half inch at a time, as Aziraphale groaned plaintively.

“Oh, my dear Lord, your mouth is… hnngh,” Aziraphale whined, squirming around on the bed. “I never want you to stop this. I want to feel this for the rest of my life… this is what heaven is meant to be… my God...”

Crowley was feeling very much the same way - this was exactly the way heaven was supposed to be. And if he got to suck on this big dick every day for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man.

It didn’t take long before he was bobbing at a steady pace, using his hand to stroke the part of Aziraphale’s cock that he wasn’t sucking. He was making a terrific mess, with saliva dripping, but he couldn’t possibly care. It was his opinion that blowjobs were better when messy, anyway. And Aziraphale certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, alternating between pulling Crowley’s hair and scratching his scalp. “Please, please don’t stop this… your mouth feels so good… I want it. Ah! Ah! You are so incredibly good at this… You could give lessons...”

Crowley huffed a little laugh at that, although he didn’t break his rhythm. As a matter of fact, he sped up, taking Aziraphale deeper, reveling in the moan Aziraphale gave.

“My darling, please…. please… I’m getting close. I’m going to come soon… it’s getting closer… please, more…”

He was ready and willing to obey that, and started bobbing faster, sucking harder and taking him deeper. Just as he’d hoped, Aziraphale was pleading with him - both for Crowley to make him come and to never stop, which was paradoxical and made Crowley feel like a god. The angel couldn’t seem to stop moving his body on the bed, much like a worm in hot ashes. Crowley was doing his best work, aiming to bring Aziraphale the most pleasure he was capable of delivering, and when he felt Aziraphale go stock still and his thighs start trembling, he mentally punched the air. It was almost time, and he knew it. So he took Aziraphale into the back of his throat and swallowed.

Aziraphale erupted with a cry that was almost inhuman, come hitting the back of Crowley’s throat and nearly making him gag. He pulled off a little so Aziraphale was coming into his mouth properly and he could taste it, but he didn’t stop sucking him, milking him for every drop he could get. His come tasted like heaven, and Crowley knew that he would be coming up with any and every reason to suck this cock as often as possible from this point forward.

Aziraphale was thrashing around on the bed, his hands like claws in Crowley’s hair, and he was loud, which was a delight. He was making sounds that no linguist would be able to identify as language, and his head was thrown back, his neck exposed. He seemed to come for ages, which Crowley was thrilled about, until he collapsed onto the bed, limp. His hands were a lot more gentle on Crowley’s head when he pushed him away.

“Stop, my darling. I can’t come any more or I’ll die.”

Crowley stopped sucking at once, swallowing all of Aziraphale’s heavenly essence and thanking God that he’d gotten this opportunity. He did, however, spend a little time licking Aziraphale’s cock clean, smiling to himself while Aziraphale twitched with aftershocks, until Aziraphale grabbed him by the arm with surprising strength and hauled him up beside him.

He was grinning when he put his hand on Aziraphale’s face and kissed him, softly, with just a little tongue. Aziraphale was trembling and out of breath, and Crowley was more proud than he’d ever felt in his life. When the kiss broke, Crowley put his forehead against Aziraphale’s, and the feeling of his love’s shaky exhalations on his face made him smile even bigger.

“How was that, sweetheart?” he asked in a low voice.

Aziraphale huffed a very weak and trembling laugh. “I don’t - darling, I don’t even have words for that.”

Crowley chuckled, satisfied. “Good,” he said, then dropped a sweet kiss to Aziraphale’s nose, loving him so much.

“If you give me just a moment, I’ll - I’ll return the favor.”

“I’d love that, sweetheart. But we have to be downstairs for breakfast soon… I’m having an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Take a shower with me?”

Aziraphale finally opened his eyes and he almost looked scared. “I - I don’t…”

Crowley reached up and cupped his cheek again. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just… if we’re in the shower, we’ll be naked.”

He failed to see the problem. “Yeah? And?”

Aziraphale looked like he was on the verge of squirming - in a very different way than he had been a minute ago. “You… you might not like my body.”

Crowley just blinked at him for a moment, surprised, then said, “Is this another joke?”

“No, it’s not. I’m completely serious. I’m… you’re so sexy and I’m soft...”

“Okay, angel, a couple of things here. First of all, I’ve already seen your body. I walked out of the shower while you were changing clothes, remember? And to be honest, if I hadn’t just wanked two minutes before that, I’d have shamed myself right in front of you.”

“Really?”

“Christ, yes. I had been imagining your body, but I hadn’t done it justice.”

“Oh, stop. It was different then.”

“How so?”

“Because you weren’t interested in -”

“The hell I wasn’t!” Crowley squawked, indignant. “I liked you from the minute I walked into that Donkey pub and laid eyes on you.”

Aziraphale gave him a small smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Second of all,” Crowley said, then took Aziraphale’s hand and put it on his own cock, through his pajama trousers, letting Aziraphale feel how hard he was. “Does anything about this give you any indication that I don’t find you to be fucking gorgeous? Does that make you think I don’t want you?”

“That’s… that’s very complimentary,” Aziraphale said, as he massaged Crowley through his pants. “It’s also very big. Is that all for me?”

Crowley nodded, feeling himself get even more keyed up. “Yeah. That’s all for you, it’s only for you.”

“And you want me to take a shower with you?”

He nodded again, his eyes wide. “Yeah. I want that. Please.”

Aziraphale grinned a little, and kissed him. “I think I’d like that. Lead the way.”

Crowley didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed Aziraphale hard, then rolled out of bed as fast as he could.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale accepted Crowley’s kiss, his heart beating a little faster. He was nervous about this - but he really shouldn’t be. Crowley had seen him naked - or at least unclothed - and he hadn’t been repulsed. As a matter of fact, now that Aziraphale was thinking about it he had seemed… well, he’d seemed shocked when he saw Aziraphale undressed the other day, but it hadn’t seemed to be an unpleasant shock. He hadn’t seemed to hate the sight of Aziraphale naked. To be honest, if his erection was anything to go by, he’d actually quite liked the sight of Aziraphale naked.

He needed to decide whether to trust or doubt. Trusting Crowley would be a risk, but so would doubting. If he didn’t have faith in Crowley, he may leave. That was the last thing Aziraphale wanted. Plus, Crowley had given him no reason not to trust.

So Aziraphale was going to trust. He was going to let himself have this, and enjoy it, and soak up every minute of it he could. It might not last long, and he wanted it to last as long as possible.

That decided, he got out of bed to follow his love to the bathroom. Once there, Crowley went to the shower and turned the water on, sticking his hand inside. “How do you like your water, angel?”

“Oh. Um, I like it warm, but not scalding hot.”

“I can deal with that,” Crowley said, adjusting a little, then turning around with a smile. That smile fell when he saw that Aziraphale was looking shy. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t - I don’t quite know what to do,” Aziraphale admitted. “I’ve never showered with anyone before.”

“Well,” Crowley said in a seductive voice, coming over to him. He plucked at Aziraphale’s shirt playfully. “You start by getting naked. Don’t want to get your pajamas all wet.”

“Ah, yes. Right.”

“Would you like for me to get undressed first?”

Aziraphale nodded, not only because he was nervous, but because he very much wanted to see Crowley naked. Very, very much.

Crowley gave him a wolfish grin, then stepped back a couple of feet. He whipped off his t-shirt, revealing his lean body and all his tattoos. Aziraphale let his eyes feast on him.

“Someday, I’d like you to tell me the stories of your tattoos.”

“I’ll be happy to - someday,” Crowley said, still grinning, as he pulled his pajama trousers out and over his cock, then let them drop to the floor.

It was Aziraphale’s first time seeing him, and his eyes widened. He’d been able to discern that Crowley was… significantly endowed, but he was quite surprised to find a bit of jewelry on the head of his cock.

“You have a piercing?”

“I do, yeah,” Crowley said, still grinning while he lazily pumped himself.

“Do I, ahem, do I need to know anything about it? Do I need to treat it with any special care?”

“Nope. You can just pretend it’s not there, if you want. Or I can take it out.”

“No, no. There’s no need for that.”

Crowley was still stroking himself slowly. “Go on, angel. Your turn.”

“Right,” Aziraphale said, and took a quick, steadying breath before he pulled his own shirt off, over his head. He hadn’t even been able to cast it to the side when Crowley was on him, his arms around his waist, laying kisses to his torso.

“Christ, angel. You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured between kisses. “Your skin is so soft, and it feels so good…”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but let his hands wander all over Crowley, caressing him. “Darling…”

Crowley kissed little patterns all over Aziraphale’s chest, and Aziraphale barely noticed when Crowley tucked his thumbs into the top of his pajama trousers and pants and pushed them down, leaving him naked.

“Fucking hell,” Crowley moaned, still kissing him, his hands wandering all over Aziraphale’s arse and thighs. He ringed his tongue around his nipple, and Aziraphale was shocked to feel himself getting aroused again. “I could just… fuck.”

He was a little bereft when Crowley stopped touching him and raised his head to look at him. He was thrilled, though, when the look in Crowley’s eyes was hungry.

“Can I please get you in the shower now?” he asked in a somewhat croaky voice.

Finding his confidence, Aziraphale kissed him. He’d intended to keep it soft and brief, but Crowley grabbed him and kissed him with fire. It was a fire that Aziraphale shared - they had all this skin touching, and it was utterly intoxicating. When Crowley ground himself against Aziraphale, clutching him, it built his confidence tremendously.

“Angel,” Crowley grumbled, “if we don't get in there with your hands on me, I'm going to combust just from the sight of you."

“Shouldn’t I be the one seducing you?”

He took Aziraphale’s hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Feel how hard I am, sweetheart. No seduction necessary. I’m bewitched by you.”

Aziraphale kissed him again, stroking his love’s cock slowly, enjoying the way Crowley thrust into his hand and whimpered into the kiss. He smiled at Crowley when the kiss broke, then slid his hand down his arm to take his hand. “Come with me, darling. Let’s bathe together.”

Crowley followed him, and Aziraphale released his hand to step into the water. “Oooh, darling, the water is perfect,” he cooed as he let the water rinse over his body, wetting his hair. That done, he got some shampoo into his hand and lathered his hair up, his back to Crowley. He turned around to put his back to the spray and rinsed the suds out of his hair. When he opened his eyes, he found Crowley propped against the wall, watching Aziraphale with dark eyes, stroking his cock again.

“Holy fuck, you’re the most goddamn beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Crowley professed.

“Am I now?” Aziraphale asked, feeling a little coy.

“Yeah. You are. And I fantasized about this very thing. About being in the shower with you, and watching you bathe. Watching you touch your body like this.”

“Is that what you want, love?” Aziraphale asked, letting the endearment slip. “Do you want to watch me bathe myself?”

“Please,” Crowley asked, a little strained.

“I’ll be happy to,” Aziraphale said, then reached over to pick up the bar of soap. With a little bastard smile on his face, he very slowly ran the soap all over his body, giving himself a lather. Crowley watched hungrily, and Aziraphale felt like some kind of deity. He was able to hear Crowley’s little gasp when he put his hand on his own half-hard cock and started pumping it a little.

“I have to clean every part of me, don’t I?” he asked, feeling very wicked.

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed, staring at him. “That would be ideal.”

Aziraphale stroked himself until he was hard, then turned his back to Crowley and let the water rinse off his front. Just to be a bastard, he started washing his backside, sliding his fingers between his own cheeks to tantalize. He heard Crowley make a little noise, and he turned back around to see that he was biting his lip, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Don’t you want to come in where it’s warm?” he asked, while he ran his hands all over his arse, making his meaning clear.

Crowley smirked at him. “I’d love to, angel, but we don’t have lube. I’m plenty warm here, though, watching you. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Hmm, that little bit of temptation didn’t work,” Aziraphale said with a mock pout. “Let’s try this.” He turned his back to Crowley again and bent over, pretending to put the soap back. But he took an extended time to drop the soap off, and very deliberately wiggled his arse in the air.

He was rewarded when he felt Crowley molding himself to him, putting his hands on Aziraphale’s hips and sliding his cock between his thighs, pressing kisses to his shoulders. “Fuck, angel. You have no idea - fuck. I want you so much. I just can’t even say it,” he murmured between nibbles to Aziraphales’ shoulders while he slid his cock in and out, between his thighs.

Aziraphale put his feet closer together, closing his legs, making it tighter for Crowley, while he reached back over his shoulder and threaded his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Is that good for you, darling?”

“Yes, fuck, God, your thighs...”

“They’re all yours, love,” Aziraphale said, “yours to do whatever you want with.”

Crowley was nibbling a little path down Aziraphale’s shoulder, still sliding in and out. “Aziraphale, you’re just… fuck, I’m so crazy about you… it’s unreal how mad I am about you… I’m gonna make you so happy, I swear…”

“You just be yourself, darling, that’s all I need or want,” Aziraphale said, now masturbating himself, his eyes closed and his head rocked back on Crowley’s shoulder.

Crowley whimpered a little. “Angel, please… can you…? Please?”

It took Aziraphale a second to catch on, but when he did, he didn’t hesitate to pull his arse off of Crowley’s cock and spin around to kiss him, hard and urgent. Crowley was clutching at him, seeming almost desperate for him, and the kiss only broke when Aziraphale pushed him against the wall. Crowley let out a muffled sound, his face surprised.

Aziraphale gave him the naughtiest smile he could, then sank to his knees in front of him, wrapping his hand around Crowley’s cock. He rubbed the head of it around his mouth, darting his tongue out to flick the piercing.

“You know, darling,” he said, watching Crowley’s face while he breathed raggedly. Aziraphale dragged the head of his cock around his face, and Crowley whimpered. “There’s a part of me that wants to say that I don’t understand why you felt the need to decorate your cock. It’s absolutely the most stunning prick I’ve ever seen in my life. But the other part of me very much likes this little adornment, and is quite looking forward to getting acquainted with it.”

“Oh, God,” Crowley moaned, sounding broken when Aziraphale darted his tongue out to play with the piercing again. “Fucking… angel, please, please...”

That was all Aziraphale needed to hear. He opened his mouth and took the head of Crowley’s cock into it, swirling his tongue around the head, catching the taste of Crowley’s precome. Crowley moaned and leaned his head back, exposing his throat, looking completely blissed out, and Aziraphale was pleased with that. He started bobbing, sucking on him, and used his free hand to massage and play with Crowley’s bollocks.

“Oh my fucking God, angel, your mouth… Jesus, your mouth is everything I’ve always dreamed of. You just… you suck me like this and… shit. You’re a dream come true…”

Aziraphale took him deeper, towards the back of his mouth. Crowley gave a plaintive groan, and Aziraphale bobbed on him at that depth for a few moments while Crowley begged for more.

“Please, sweetheart,” Crowley pleaded, his eyes screwed shut, his face tortured ecstacy. “Please, please, I’m getting close, please…”

Aziraphale removed his hand from around the base of Crowley’s cock and took him as deep as he could. The piercing felt unusual at the back of his throat, but Crowley’s ragged sound was its own reward, and he sucked him hard while Crowley moaned and mumbled praise in broken English. He could feel Crowley’s thighs trembling and knew he must be close, so he didn’t dare let up. He wasn’t going to stop until -

“Angel! Angel! Oh, God, I’m gonna come! I’m so close! Ah! Ah! I’m coming! I’m coming! Fucking - Ah! Ah!”

That was all the warning he got before his mouth was flooded with hot, salty, wonderful come. Aziraphale sucked him through, relentless, while Crowley shouted and begged and trembled, until he put his hands on Aziraphale’s head and pushed him back. “Stop, please, stop… I can’t anymore.”

Aziraphale swallowed all of the come, then took a minute to lick Crowley’s cock clean, making sure to get all the taste, while Crowley shuddered and moaned when aftershocks rocked him. When he was done, Aziraphale stood up to face him, smiling brilliantly, hoping that he’d done a good job.

It seemed from Crowley’s face that he had. He looked spent, wrecked, and his breaths were coming choppy and hard. Aziraphale reached out to put a gentle hand on his chest, just needing to touch him, and Crowley opened his amber eyes. The tenderness he saw there stole his breath, and he nearly swooned.

Before he knew what was happening, Crowley had grabbed him by the head and hauled him into a kiss, pulling Aziraphale’s body against his. Aziraphale was happy to go, and Crowley held him close while the kiss gentled into something softer, sweeter. Aziraphale’s heart was soaring when Crowley broke the kiss to look into his eyes.

“You’re a dream come true, angel.”

Aziraphale grinned at him. “You mentioned something like that.”

“It bears repeating. You’re just… fucking hell. You’re amazing.”

“I think you are, darling.”

“Nowhere near as amazing as you,” Crowley said, before he kissed him again. When the kiss broke, he simply pulled Aziraphale into his arms. Aziraphale sighed happily and let himself be held. He could feel Crowley’s heartbeat against him, and he reveled in the way Crowley was sliding his hands all over him, petting him. It made him feel… cherished. Important. Cared for. And he absolutely loved it. That was not a feeling he’d had a great deal of for a long time.

“Angel?”

“Yes?” Aziraphale asked, eyes still closed, still cuddling Crowley.

“I just want you to know that you can do what you want and I won’t fault you. But as far as I’m concerned, I’m in a relationship. A monogamous one.”

Aziraphale raised his head to look at him with wide, surprised eyes. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, a small smile on his face. “I didn’t mean to be. I had no intention of feeling this way. But there you were, and I was a goner. I consider myself properly taken… if you’ll have me.”

“You’re - you want to be my boyfriend?”

Crowley grinned at him. “Would you like me to ask you, officially? I’ll be happy to.” He pushed Aziraphale back a little bit, then got down on one knee in front of him. The spray was hitting him in the face while he talked, and Aziraphale felt laughter bubbling in his chest. Even so, Crowley managed to get out, “Aziraphale Eastgate, will you be my boyfriend?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh - both from joy, and from the ridiculousness of Crowley asking him to be his boyfriend with the water hitting him in the face. He didn’t waste a minute before he pulled Crowley to his feet and kissed him sweetly, draping his arms around his neck.

“You are so silly, darling,” Aziraphale accused, still smiling, still wrapped in Crowley’s arms.

Crowley was smiling at him. “Pretty silly over you, yeah. But I notice you didn’t answer me -”

“Yes!” Aziraphale laughed, his heart full of joy - but his laugh was cut off when Crowley kissed him.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale felt a little like he was dancing on air as he made his way down to the breakfast room with Crowley. They were holding hands - and now Aziraphale knew it was for the right reasons. They liked holding hands. And now, he and Crowley could hold hands anytime they wanted. They could kiss any time they wanted. They could touch, they could play, they could sleep together anytime they wanted, because he and Crowley were together. He had been completely mistaken about Crowley’s intentions - and sexuality- the entire time. Crowley had come into the Dirty Donkey a little over a week ago, and Aziraphale had been taken with him. That attraction had only grown since then, and he’d been so sure that he was alone in that. But he hadn’t been! Crowley had been taken with him, too! That ridiculous creature had gone so far as to get down on one knee in the shower with the water spraying him directly in the face and ask Aziraphale to be his boyfriend. It had been simultaneously one of the funniest - and happiest - moments of his entire life, and he would treasure the memory for as long as he lived.

The fact that he and Crowley were a couple now, that they had decided to be together properly, was almost staggering in its amazingness. Was that even a word? Amazingness? Aziraphale had no idea, and really didn’t care at the moment. All he really cared about was the fact that he and Crowley were a couple, that this amazing, beautiful, astounding creature was his boyfriend. He really couldn’t feel anything but joy - and gratitude. He hadn’t communed with God in many years, he’d gotten out of the habit once he wasn’t under his parents’ roof and was able to make the choice for himself. But he had been saying little breath prayers for the last hour or so, thanking Her for giving him Crowley. This man… this man was a gift that Aziraphale couldn’t even comprehend. It was astounding how blessed he felt, just because Crowley was his now.

“Wait a minute,” Crowley said, stopping suddenly a few yards from the breakfast room.

Aziraphale came to a stop beside him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Crowley grinned at him. “Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to kiss you,” he said. Aziraphale was smiling when Crowley’s lips met his in a soft, sweet kiss that spoke volumes about their emotions.

They kissed for a couple of moments, and Aziraphale was getting thoroughly lost in it. He put his hands on Crowley’s waist, letting himself be grounded by the feel of Crowley near him, until it gentled. Both of them pulled back, but only a couple of inches, and they were smiling brilliantly at each other.

“Thank you for that,” Crowley said, looking as happy as Aziraphale felt.

“You’re entirely welcome, darling,” Aziraphale replied, beaming at him.

Crowley sighed happily. “Darling. I love that. I want to keep that particular name a long time.”

Aziraphale gave him a naughty look. “You like it that much, do you?” he teased. “Well, maybe if you’re very nice, we could get my mother in the habit of using it for you.”

He laughed, a full, rich sound. “No offense to your mother, sweetheart, but I don’t want anyone calling me an affectionate pet name like that except you. And maybe my own mother.”

“Yes, well, in all seriousness, I feel as if you’ll get your wish, regarding my mother. I don't see her warming to you enough to call you ‘darling’.”

“That’s entirely fine with me,” Crowley said. “As long as you keep calling me that. That’s all I’m really interested in.”

“I’ll call you that for as long as you like,” Aziraphale replied, a thrill racing all over his body.

“God, I hope so, sweetheart,” Crowley said, right before he kissed Aziraphale again, a little more quickly. “You ready to go inside?”

“I’m quite ready, darling,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley gave him a grin.

They were still holding hands as they rounded the corner to go into the breakfast room, and Aziraphale felt his first flash of nervousness. Would his family notice and remark on the change between them? Would they be additionally rude to Crowley? No, he decided. He’d done a fine job of acting - and so had Crowley. No one would notice the change. And he certainly wasn’t going to act less in love than he was to placate his family. To be honest, he wasn’t that good of an actor. His adoring looks at Crowley had been entirely real, and he’d had to refrain from giving Crowley those looks too often. But now he could look at him any way he pleased, as much as he pleased.

Maybe they were in trouble. But honestly, even if they were, Aziraphale didn’t care very much. He had Crowley, that man was his, and that was the extent of what he cared about.

“Good morning, guys!” Anathema chirped when they came in.

“Good morning,” Aziraphale returned, while he cast his eyes around the room to see who was there. It looked to be only Anathema, Newt, and Ella, which Aziraphale found a little odd. “Has everyone else already eaten?”

“No, we were the first ones down here,” Ella said. “My parents and your parents were having coffee to discuss some wedding details with Gabe and Mikey, then I think they’ll be here.”

“Perfect,” said Crowley, then dropped a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek, let his hand go, and walked over to the buffet, where the food was set out. Aziraphale watched as Crowley very deliberately picked a quiche that hadn’t been cut yet, took a knife, and cut a triangle directly out of the middle.

“Not a big fan of crust,” he said by way of explanation while Aziraphale let out a giggle.

They made their plates, filled with good things, then sat down at the table to eat. Conversation was easy and light, and Crowley seemed to be his natural self, with no real shenanigans. Things remained calm when Muriel came in, and they all greeted her warmly.

“So what do you have on the agenda today?” Aziraphale asked the table at large.

“I’m going to give Newt a tour of the house,” Anathema said. “I’ve told him a lot about Agnes, I’d like for him to get a visual.”

“Ah, yes, Crowley and I went on that tour on Thursday,” Aziraphale said.

Muriel giggled. “Were you properly reverent when seeing our ancestors?” she teased.

“I genuflected and everything,” Crowley replied, and the others laughed.

“What about you, Ella?” Muriel asked. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t quite know. There are going to be a lot of people arriving, and I suppose technically I should be there to greet them… But I really don’t want to.”

“I don’t either,” Muriel said. “I’m only doing it for my mother.”

“I tell you what,” Ella answered, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s do what we have to do for a little while, and then you and I can… I don’t know. Sneak off and find some mischief to get into.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I can’t wait!”

“What are you two going to get into?” Anathema asked Aziraphale, picking up a piece of bacon with her fingers and taking a bite.

“I think I might take Crowley to meet Nanny,” Aziraphale said. “I’ve told him a lot about her, and he got to meet Brother Francis, but I feel like maybe he would like to meet Nanny.”

“I would, angel,” Crowley said, giving him a tender look. Aziraphale felt his heart pitter pat a little, and he reached over to squeeze Crowley’s hand on the table.

He was still looking at Crowley all soppy when Crowley’s smile changed, became something more wicked. And he knew very well that when he turned around, he’d find his family.

His guess had been accurate, and he spotted Derek coming in, accompanied by the Earl, Countess, Gabriel and Michael. The people at the table greeted them politely, and Aziraphale joined them, but Crowley’s smile remained wicked.

“Who in the blue blazes cut a shape in the middle of the quiche?” Derek demanded when he got to the buffet to serve himself.

“Ah, yeah, that’s my bad,” Crowley said, smiling unrepentantly. “Not a big fan of crust, you see.”

Much to Aziraphale’s surprise, the Earl burst into laughter. “Neither am I, my boy. I find it too… doughy.”

“You couldn’t be more right, your highship,” Crowley replied, using his fork to salute the Earl.

Once again, the Earl laughed, but Derek, Gabriel, and Michael looked most disapproving. Frances and the Countess pretended not to hear. Aziraphale had to fight back his own giggle.

Things were calm while the stuffy set prepared their plates, and then they sat down, ready to eat. Derek had just picked up his fork and was about to take a bite when Aziraphale heard, “Damn, I forgot to bless the food,” from beside him.

The Earl looked amused again, but Derek’s face was sour. “We don’t generally bless breakfast.”

“You don’t? Isn’t it just as much to the nourishment of our bodies as any other meal? Plus, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!” Crowley said. “Here, you don’t even have to do it. I’ll say a prayer for all of us.”

Derek’s jaw seemed to be working. “Very well,” he said, just before he bowed his head. “You may bless the food.”

Crowley shot Aziraphale a wink before he folded his hands and bowed his head. Aziraphale also bowed his head, and concentrated very hard on not laughing at whatever Crowley was about to do.

“Are you ready?” Crowley asked.

“Just do it,” Gabriel snapped.

Crowley cleared his throat as if about to give a great oratory. Then he started speaking at a decibel slightly higher than his normal speaking voice.

“Good food, good meat, good God, let’s eat,” he said, with tremendous gravitas.

Aziraphale heard a couple of snorts that indicated aborted laughs from around the table, and he had to admit that his was among them - as was the Earl’s. But his father looked livid.

Crowley did not miss the look on Derek’s face and was smiling brightly. “You don’t like that one? Okay, I have another one. Everybody bow your heads.” Everyone did, and Crowley cleared his throat before he said, very theatrically, “Hail Mary, fulla grace, help me win this stock car race.”

The laughs this time were more pronounced, until everyone seemed to shush themselves. Aziraphale recovered as quickly as he could and very calmly said, “Amen,” before he picked up his fork and began to eat again, absolutely determined not to look at anyone else until he had better control of himself.

“So, your highship,” Crowley said, sounding cheerful and buoyant.

The Earl looked simply delighted. “Yes, young man?”

“I heard a rumor that you liked my car. The Bentley.”

The Earls’ eyes widened. “Oh, was that your car?”

“It is, yeah,” Crowley said proudly. “Her name is Mary. She’s my pride and joy. Other than my angel, of course,” he added with a tender look for Aziraphale - that Aziraphale returned.

“She really is a beautiful car,” the Earl said. “An absolute stunner. You must have paid a pretty penny for her.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Crowley said. “I got her for a song because she needed a ton of work. But I saw her potential, so I snapped her up and got to work. She was my passion project for a couple of years.”

“Oh? Who did you hire to do the work?”

“I didn’t hire anyone. That’s what I do for a living - I restore and repair luxury and classic cars.” Mrs. Eastgate and the Countess exchanged a disgruntled look.

“That’s fascinating,” the Earl said. “How do you -”

“Do you know, Gabriel, I think it’s going to be quite a cold day for your wedding tomorrow,” Derek broke in smoothly - surprising Aziraphale with his rudeness. “I’m hearing rumors about snow.”

“I’ve heard the same, yes,” Gabriel said, unsmiling and not looking at Michael.

“Yes, but the wedding is indoors,” the Countess said with a fake smile. “There’s no need to worry about the weather.”

“You’re exactly right, mother,” Michael chimed in. “It’s predicted to be lovely.”

“A beautiful day for a beautiful wedding,” she said, and Michael seemed to be trying to smile.

“So where are you two lovebirds going on your honeymoon?” Crowley asked, grinning.

“We’re going to Majorca,” Gabriel said.

“Ah, I hear it’s lovely there. But I guess it doesn’t really matter, you won’t be seeing much of the scenery, will you? Probably won’t come up for air. At least I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t be able to. This one keeps me hopping,” he said, nudging Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale flushed violently, and noticed that the other young people at the table were snickering, but Derek looked angry.

“We intend to see the sights,” Gabriel said coldly, while Michael stared, stony faced.

“You know,” Crowley said, “I was wondering, and I reckon I’ll ask since I’ve got you here. I don’t dress up a whole lot. But I was wondering what color earrings I should wear. I don't want to clash in the photos.”

“You won’t be in any photos,” Gabriel snarked.

“Not in any photos?” Crowley said with an incredulous look. Then he scoffed, “Screw that.”

“Language, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley grinned at Derek. “Sorry, dad. Fuck that.”

Aziraphale snorted into his orange juice, and was comforted by the fact that nearly everyone else was laughing, too - save his parents, his brother, the Countess, and Gabriel’s intended.

The Earl was laughing harder than anyone. “Oh, Mr. Crowley, you are refreshing! Full of vim and vigor! Remember when we used to be like this, Derek?”

“I was never like this,” Derek said, and the Earl just laughed harder.

“But anyway,” Crowley went on, “I brought three sets of earrings. I have gold, silver, and one that has a LED light in it and flashes a lot of colors. I didn’t bring any for my Prince Albert, though -”

Aziraphale nearly choked on his bacon. “That’s not a problem, darling.”

The Countess asked, “Who is Prince Albert?”

“It’s a piercing in my mmph,” Crowley said as Aziraphale covered his mouth unceremoniously.

Ella stepped in, looking highly amused. “It’s a piercing only men can get, mother.”

“Oh,” she said, looking confused. Then her face cleared and eyes shot open when realization hit. “Oh!”

Anathema, Newt, Muriel, and Ella all looked to be on the verge of shouting laughter, but the fulminating glare from Derek kept them quiet. Aziraphale was glad for that. He had no idea how his father might react if everyone started laughing.

Aziraphale removed his hand when Crowley kissed it and winked at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back at Crowley. God, how he loved this man.

He was surprised - and delighted - when Ella jumped in. “So, Aziraphale, have you and Crowley talked about getting married?”

Aziraphale didn’t miss the twinkle of mischief in her eye, and he loved it. He rather thought he’d like having this woman for a sister in law.

Derek, meanwhile, looked apoplectic. Crowley was grinning.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, deciding to speak before Crowley could. “We haven’t - we haven’t really talked about that. We’ve only been dating for a few months…”

“Yeah, but speedy weddings are just the way with this family, aren’t they?” Anathema chimed in, apparently in the mood to stir things up, too. “Uncle D and Auntie Fran were married in less than six months, and now Gabriel and Michael are getting married after just a couple of months! Seems you’re behind schedule, Aziraphale.”

He was trying to think of something to say that would be playful when Crowley broke in. “You know, I’ve thought about it. Thought about it a fair amount, actually. And I’ll give my angel anything he wants, of course, but if it’s up to me, we might just have some little backyard thing, with a potluck. Maybe a band playing dance music or something like that. A real celebration, where people can have fun. You know?”

“I think people are going to have plenty of fun at Gabriel and Michael’s wedding,” Derek snapped.

“Especially if this one is there!” the Earl said jovially.

Derek’s face was almost purple, and Aziraphale decided that now would probably be the best time to make excuses and leave. “Are you nearly finished, darling?” he asked Crowley in a way he hoped would be leading enough.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m ready,” Crowley said. “Let’s go, angel.”

“Please excuse us,” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet. As soon as Crowley was standing, he reached for Crowley’s hand, and they left.

They hadn’t gotten very far into the hall before both of them burst into giggles, like schoolchildren. “You were brilliant, darling,” Aziraphale said. “you think so quickly on your feet!”

“Ah, really I just stayed awake for a long time last night, holding you, and coming up with ways to be scandalous.”

Aziraphale tittered. “Well, it worked. Now, really, did you get enough to eat?”

“Enh. I could eat a little more, but I’m not starving. Does your Nanny generally have food?”

“She’s likely to try to feed us, yes, but she’s probably not awake - or fit for company yet. So I thought we might go into town for an hour or so, so I can show you around.”

“I’d love that,” Crowley said. “We’ll get our coats and go now. But angel?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Is there a chemist in town?”

Aziraphale felt himself blush. “There is, yes. A very nice one… that will have what we need.”

Crowley gave him a very serious look. “Sweetheart, listen to me. I don’t want us to buy it unless you’re absolutely sure -”

“I’m beyond sure, darling. I’m so very, very sure. I want that, more than I can tell you.”

Crowley grinned at him, then kissed him quickly. “Then, by all means, let’s go get our coats and go into town.”

Aziraphale was beaming as he led him towards their rooms.

Chapter Text

The town was nice, Crowley thought. Aziraphale had given him a fairly short tour, given that they didn’t have much time. When he had pointed out the bookshop, Crowley had encouraged him to go in, hoping that would occupy him for a few minutes, then told Aziraphale he was going to go buy the lube. He had done exactly that - but he’d also stopped off at the bakery to do a little something-something. He kept that second stop a secret for now when he got back to the bookshop with Aziraphale and just kissed his boyfriend with his heart full of love.

Crowley had bought Aziraphale anything and everything he spotted while they were out that he showed any interest in, chalking them up to ‘birthday presents’. Aziraphale protested a little, but it was a token protest and they both knew it. Crowley got the impression that Aziraphale had rarely been spoiled with genuine affection and attention, and he was very determined to change all of that.

When they got back to the estate, they made a little pit stop to drop off the lubricant, hidden in a brown paper bag, and then they’d set out together onto the grounds, headed towards Nanny’s cottage, hand in hand.

“I know I’ve said this already, but you really didn’t have to -”

“Hush,” Crowley said, firmly but a little playfully. “You are my boyfriend - thank God - and it is your birthday. I’m supposed to spoil you rotten.”

“But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow, darling.”

“Then I’ll spoil you tomorrow, too,” Crowley said with a big grin, “and you just wait until we get back to town. I’m really gonna do it up, then.”

Aziraphale tittered. “You’re so silly, dear.”

“So I hear,” he replied, grinning, then kissed the back of his hand. “What is her name?”

“Whose?”

“Nanny’s.”

“Her name is Nanny.”

“I can’t just call a woman I’ve never met ‘Nanny’, angel. What is her surname? She’s Mrs. What?”

“Ashtoreth, but I’m telling you, if you try to call her Mrs. Ashtoreth, she is going to correct you immediately.”

“If she does, I’ll call her whatever she prefers. But I’d rather not be overly familiar with the woman who raised you, at least not at first.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Aziraphale said indulgently.

Crowley had a sudden thought. “Does she know you’re gay?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Darling, she knew before I knew.”

“And she’s alright with it?”

“She is. Nanny and Brother Francis are the only two people in the world that I believe love me unconditionally. Well,” he amended, “and Fergus, of course. He’d be quite cross if I left him out.”

Crowley was a little disgruntled by that. He wanted to be counted amongst those numbers. But there wasn’t time to talk about that at the moment, because they were coming to the door of a charming little cottage. “Are you ready, darling?” Aziraphale asked.

He nodded, even though he was nervous in spite of himself. “I am, yep. Looking forward to it.”

Aziraphale gave him a look that made him believe he’d spotted the lie, but he didn’t comment. He just raised his hand and knocked on the door. Crowley was gratified that he didn’t let go of his hand.

The door was opened a moment later by a tall, reedy woman with angled features and thin lips. She was a very handsome woman, but she looked imposing and stern - until her eyes fell on Aziraphale. And then her face bloomed into a smile, as if nothing had ever made her happier than to see him.

Crowley could relate.

“There’s my little crumpet,” she said, her voice warm - and Scottish. “Come to see your old Nanny, did you?”

“I did, Nanny,” Aziraphale said, and his smile was huge. “And I brought my boyfriend.”

She raised a brow and looked at Crowley for the first time. “A boyfriend, you say?”

“Yes. My name is Anthony Crowley, Mrs. Ashtoreth,” he said, extending his hand. “How do you do?”

“I do very well, Mr. Crowley,” she said, shaking his hand. “But if you don’t mind, we’ll dispense with the ‘Mrs.’ bit right now. You’re my crumpet’s partner, you can call me Nanny.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Crowley said smiling.

“Oh, heavens, where are my manners? You must be freezing! Come in, come in,” she said, stepping to the side. Crowley followed Aziraphale in, still holding his hand, and let himself be led to a little lounge.

“You two just make yourself at home, I’ll be back in just a moment with some tea.”

“Have you got any of your cherry scones?”

Nanny smiled at Aziraphale. “I’ve had them ready, just in case you came by. A little early birthday present from Nanny. I’ll bring them out, too. You two sit,” she said, then left the room.

Aziraphale sat down on the couch, and pulled Crowley to sit beside him. “You wait until you taste Nanny’s cherry scones. They’re absolutely to die for.”

“I believe you,” Crowley said, trying to get comfortable on the couch.

“Here we are,” Nanny said, coming back into the room a moment later and setting down a tea service on the table between them. Crowley was amused when Aziraphale showed less decorum than he’d ever seen and immediately reached for a scone while Nanny poured the tea.

“So,” she said, after she’d made both of them a cup the way they requested. “How did you two come to be an item?”

“Fergus introduced us,” Aziraphale said.

“Such a good lad. He’s always had your best interests in mind, and I love that about him.”

Crowley was warmed for a couple of reasons.

“He’s coming to the wedding, he should be here in the morning, I think.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell him to save a dance for this old Nanny. And that goes for both of you, too,” she said, waggling her finger.

“How could I not dance with the woman who taught me to dance?” Aziraphale said. “Besides that, I’m sure you’ll be the most beautiful woman there. It’ll be a feather in my wing to dance with you.”

Nanny was blushing attractively. “Oh, stop. So, Mr. Crowley, what do you do?”

“Just Crowley, please, and I’m a mechanic,” he said. “I own a garage that specializes in luxury and high-end cars.”

“Oh? That sounds like a good, steady job.”

“It is,” Crowley said. “I do very well for myself. Not well enough to own an estate…”

“No, I imagine not.”

“Can I ask you something?” he asked on impulse.

“Of course, dear.”

“Can you tell me a little bit about what my angel was like as a child? His family doesn’t seem inclined to talk about him much - at least not in a pleasant way.”

“Oh, darling, you have opened a can of worms now,” Aziraphale said.

Nanny looked tremendously chuffed by the question. “My crumpet is right, you have opened a can of worms, because I’m just like any other parent in that I love talking about my children more than anything. Now, let’s see… what can I tell you?”

“Just… what was he like? Was he naughty?”

“Oh, no,” Nanny said, raising her hands in a little warding-off gesture. “Aziraphale had the sweetest spirit of any child I’ve ever known. His sister Muriel was almost as sweet, but not quite.” She got a fond smile on his face and said, “For example, when he was, oh, five or so, he decided that we needed to buy a gift for Father Christmas and leave that out instead of milk and cookies. His reasoning was that Father Christmas only got cookies, and was likely to be sad. He wanted to make him happy, so we went out and bought a pair of gloves with Aziraphale’s allowance money to give to Father Christmas.”

“Oh my God, that’s the sweetest thing I ever heard,” Crowley said.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg! One time, I was down with the flu, and this sweet boy gathered up all of his favorite stuffed animals, bringing them to me in a big bag to help me feel better. He sat each one up on and around my bed, so they could watch over me. It was so incredibly touching.”

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale, delighted. “I knew you were an angel.”

“Only you and Nanny think so,” Aziraphale rejoined.

“Did he ever get into trouble?”

“Occasionally,” Nanny allowed. “He tended to follow the letter of the law - but not always the spirit of said law.”

“Well that just proves how clever he is!” Crowley said.

Nanny laughed. “Oh, you would have been a simply terrible influence, I’m afraid.”

Crowley grinned at her. “I like to think still am.”

Her eyes were twinkling. “Undoubtedly. I do remember one time, when he was about seven or eight, he’d gotten quite a scolding for picking strawberries from Francis’ garden. Francis was always very generous and let him have plenty of goodies, but Mrs. Eastgate wanted more strawberries than usual that year. He had been told in no uncertain terms to steer clear of those berries - but he couldn’t resist.“

“What did he do?” Crowley asked, almost on tenterhooks.

“Obviously, I obeyed,” Aziraphale said teasingly.

Nanny gave him a fond smile. “He did, but again, he followed the letter of the law. He conscripted Anathema into picking the berries for him, and they were sharing them! But he hadn’t touched a single bush, just as he’d been told.”

Crowley was laughing. “Why, you sneaky little thing! You got Anathema to do your dirty work?”

“Oh, she was happy to help,” Aziraphale assured him with a haughty expression.

“I just bet she was,” Crowley replied, charmed out of his wits.

“I have oodles more stories,” Nanny said, “If you’d like to stick around for a little while, I’d love to share them with you. And I’ll make lunch.”

“Do we have time, angel?” Crowley asked, hopeful that he would say yes.

“Oh, I think we could spare an hour or so.”

“Excellent,” Nanny said. “I’ll just go make us some sandwiches.”

A few hours later, Aziraphale was content. Happy. He and Crowley had spent a couple hours with Nanny, and it had been grounding for him. Visiting with Nanny always was. They’d come back to the manor and spent a little time with Anathema, Newt, Muriel, and Ella, which was incredibly fun. The six of them made plans to meet up after dinner, and it gave Aziraphale something to look forward to.

Crowley was his mischievous best over dinner, making most of the table snicker into their hands while his parents, brother, and future sister in law looked furious. Their anger just made the whole thing funnier, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to get through a meal without bursting into laughter that would have been very inappropriate and earned a tongue lashing from his parents.

After dinner, as planned, the ‘young people’ gathered in one of the lounges, sipping beverages and chatting lightly. It was easy, it was comfortable, and Aziraphale felt truly content. That was not something he’d expected to feel on this trip. And the reason for that -the only reason for that - was Crowley. Falling in love with Crowley hadn’t been a decision, it wasn’t something he had control over, but he was very, very glad that he -

“Aziraphale?” came a voice, and he looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway. “A word with you, please?”

Crowley’s hand on Aziraphale’s knee tightened. “I’ll go with you, angel,” he said, his voice much more tight than it had been.

He thought quickly, then patted Crowley’s hand. “It’s quite alright, dear. I’ll just step outside and be right back.”

“Are you sure?” Crowley asked in a low voice.

Aziraphale smiled at him, then pressed a little kiss to his lips, just because he loved him so much. “I’m entirely sure. Be back in a moment, darling,” he said, then got up and went to the doorway to meet his mother.

“Thank you for speaking to me,” Frances said. “Shall we go in the blue room?”

“Alright,” Aziraphale said, “but I don’t want to be gone long.”

“I won’t keep you a very long time,” she said, gesturing to a spindly chair.

Aziraphale sat, then looked at his mother expectantly. “What can I do for you, Mother?”

“Aziraphale,” she said in a measured tone as she sat down on the settee across from him. “Are you absolutely sure about this… man?” He started to protest, and she leapt ahead. “I’m only asking because you seem very… mismatched.”

“We are mismatched, Mother, but that’s what makes us a perfect fit. Haven’t you ever heard that opposites attract?”

“Yes, I admit that I’ve heard that, but I can also tell you that in nearly all successful relationships, the people have things in common.”

“Like preferring men?” he asked brightly, and she glowered at him.

“You need more than that, Aziraphale, and you know it. But there are quite a few nice young men with respectable backgrounds who also have the same… proclivities.”

He bristled. “It’s not a proclivity, mother. It’s a part of me.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “Be that as it may, we would just like to see you settled with a nice person who is of your caliber. And this young man that you’ve brought home is nowhere near your caliber, dear.”

Aziraphale was growing more angry. “I think he’s perfect for me. He is kind, and clever, and wonderful, and he cares about me.”

“Don’t be so naive, Aziraphale! He doesn’t want you,, he wants your money.”

“That is blatantly false. He’s too good for me.”

Frances scoffed. “He couldn’t possibly be,” she said. “But if you’re going to insist on living this way -”

“I’m living the only way I can and be happy, Mother,” he said. “My sexuality is not a choice, and I’m not interested in living in a closet. Nor am I interested in settling down with someone you approve of, just to make you happy.”

“Are you saying that your happiness is more important?” she asked in a snooty tone.

“I am, yes, because this is my life. These are my decisions, and I’m the one that has to live with them.”

“Dear, don’t you understand that if you take up with a… a gold-digging ruffian, we’re all going to have to live with that embarrassment? With the social stigma of having someone connected to us like that? And the shame we’ll endure for you making such a foolish choice? End it now. Send him on his way. I’ll introduce you to several young men of quality who happen to enjoy other men, and you can settle down with one of them.”

Aziraphale stood up, trembling with rage. “I’ve had enough of this discussion, Mother. I will not be giving Crowley up to make you happy. I don’t intend to ever give Crowley up. I love him tremendously, and if you cannot find it in your heart to be happy for me, then you are welcome to very fuck off,” he spat, then turned on his heel and stormed out.

How dare she? How dare she insinuate that Crowley wasn’t good enough?! She didn’t even insinuate it, she stated it outright! How could anyone possibly think that about Crowley, who was the most amazing man Aziraphale had ever met? It just went to prove, yet again, that his parents didn’t know him at all - and that they didn’t care to know him. And that hurt almost as much as the slight against the man Aziraphale loved. Nowhere in her considerations were his happiness taken into account, or actual love, and certainly not sexual compatibility, or having anyone look at him like he hung the moon… all of which was absolutely vital to Aziraphale. And all of which he’d found in Crowley.

He hadn’t gotten far before it occurred to him that he’d just told his mother to fuck off. Oh, God, what was he thinking? But she had provoked him, she had really and truly poked the bear, so to speak. Now he had to go back into the lounge with Crowley and the others, when he was so angry he couldn’t see straight. What on earth was he going to tell them had happened?

Aziraphale took a steadying breath, trying to exhale all the anger he felt, then breezed back into the lounge.

The moment he saw Crowley, he felt lighter and happier. His smile was genuine, and he felt good. But the moment Crowley saw Aziraphale, his face fell, and Aziraphale knew he had done a poor job of masking how he really felt.

“What happened?” Crowley asked as soon as Aziraphale sat down beside him, in a lower voice.

There was absolutely no way Aziraphale could tell Crowley about what his mother had said. To be honest, he didn’t even want to think about what she’d said. So he patted him on the leg. When that wasn’t enough, he leaned over and kissed him. “We’ll talk later,” he promised. Then he reached for his glass and threw back the scotch in it.

Crowley accepted that, albeit begrudgingly, but he kept his arm around Aziraphale for the rest of the night. And Aziraphale spent the time drinking, mainly in an attempt to relax and unwind. He felt very keyed up, and wanted to get out of that mindset.

Before he knew it, it was getting late, and everyone was saying their goodbyes. Aziraphale was personally very excited about this development, because now he and Crowley were going to go to bed - and make love. He was very, very excited for that, and on the way back up the stairs, he was a little handsy.

Crowley was laughing because Aziraphale was feeling him up as they walked up the stairs. “You need to behave, angel.”

“But darling,” Aziraphale said, a little unsteady on his feet. “I’m not in the mood to behave. I’m ready to misbehave.” When Crowley opened the door to their room, he grabbed Crowley by the lapels and kissed him while he pulled him inside, backing him up. “Matter of fact,” he grumbled while he worked on Crowley’s buttons. “The thing I’m most in the mood for is your hard cock up my arse.”

Crowley let himself be kissed for a minute, and Aziraphale was rubbing his hands all over him, until his love put his hands on Aziraphale’s biceps and pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked.

“You’re drunk.”

“M’not drunk, just tipsy.”

“If you’re not entirely clearheaded, you’re too drunk for what I want to do.”

“But darling,” Aziraphale whined, walking his fingers up Crowley’s shirt. “It’s not a matter of consent, because we bought the lubricant in preparation for this.”

“No, you’re right, it’s not consent. It’s that I want you to remember every single moment of what I’m going to do to you.”

Aziraphale shivered in spite of the fact that he was crestfallen. “If I sober up, can we?”

“I think you and I both know that we’re going to wake up randy in the morning, just like every other morning. Why don’t we just sleep for now, and then tomorrow morning, we can reassess.”

He pouted for a second. “Yes, alright, but will you hold me?” he asked, feeling vulnerable.

Crowley growled and kissed him quickly. “Aziraphale Eastgate, you’d better believe I’m going to hold you.”

Aziraphale accepted that with a smile and another kiss, and they stripped off their clothes quickly, until they were in their pants, then got into the bed. Crowley got there first, lying on his back, and Aziraphale rolled into his side, putting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. It took everything in him not to tell Crowley how he felt. But he held back - he knew that Crolwey felt tenderly for him, but there was no way -

“Angel?”

“Yes, darling?”

“What did your mother want?”

Aziraphale felt himself get a little tense, and he sighed. “Do you remember when you told me that you didn’t want to keep secrets, and that you’d tell me, but you needed to process?”

“Yes.”

“I find myself in the exact same boat. Please give me a little time to wrap my mind around it, and then I can tell you everything.”

Crowley kissed his forehead. “Alright, sweetheart. I trust you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Aziraphale said, rubbing a circle on Crowley’s bare chest. “I appreciate that.”

They were quiet for a moment, until Crowley said, “Fergus said he was coming tomorrow.”

“Yes, he did, he said before lunch.”

“Are you excited to see him?”

“I am, quite.” He paused for a moment. “What do you think he’ll say?”

“About us?”

“Yes.”

“He’s the one that told me to ask you out.”

Aziraphale raised his head. “Really?”

“He did, yeah. He told me yesterday that he thought you liked me, and if I made a move, you’d say yes. So I made my move and kissed you last night.”

“That was a move?”

Crowley gave him a lopsided grin. “It was meant to be, yeah.”

“Well, I’m so very glad you did, darling.”

He kissed him sweetly. “I’m glad too, angel. Now sleep, and we’ll see how we feel in the morning.”

Aziraphale drifted off to sleep feeling Crowley’s heartbeat under his cheek, and Crowley’s fingertips stroking his back.

Chapter Text

Sunday, 3 March

Aziraphale woke up to Crowley kissing his shoulders, his arms around him, singing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my angel, happy birthday to you…”

He sighed happily, then rolled over to face Crowley and kiss his boyfriend (his boyfriend!) sweetly. “Good morning, darling.”

“G’mornin’, birthday boy,” Crowley rumbled with a grin, running his hands all over Aziraphale’s skin - that was left bare because they’d slept in their pants last night. “How’d you sleep?”

“Oh, like a dream next to you,” Aziraphale said with a smile, just before he leaned forward and kissed Crowley’s lips. Again. “Thank you for singing to me for my birthday.”

“That’s just the beginning, sweetheart.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes a bit, although he was still smiling. “What on earth more could you possibly do? We have a wedding to attend today.”

“We do, yes.”

“So we really can’t do much of anything for my birthday. Which is fine.”

“You may think it’s fine, but I don't. I do recognize that we can’t do much to celebrate you today - but we can do something next weekend. And I intend to spoil you completely fucking rotten.”

Aziraphale tittered a little, then ran a hand down Crowley’s bare chest. “Just how do you intend to do that, Mr. Crowley?”

“Well, a lot of that depends on what you’d like to do. But just off the top of my head, I thought I could take you to a play on the West End.”

“What show?”

“I dunno, whatever the hot ticket is that seats are hard to come by.”

“Won’t they be hard to come by for you, too?”

“You forget, angel, I have connections.” He kissed Aziraphale’s nose while he giggled. “Then, after the show, I’ll take you to dinner at some posh restaurant, where a glass of wine is thirty quid.”

“Well, there might be a little problem with that plan,” Aziraphale said teasingly.

Crowley was still running his hands all over him. “What’s that then, hmm?”

“I was just thinking that perhaps we could stick to somewhere a little less fancy. Somewhere without a Michelin star.”

“And why would we do that?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were twinkling. “I’ve seen your table manners, darling.”

Crowley laughed, full and loud, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Well now I’m between a rock and a hard place,” Crowley said, grinning. “I can’t prove that I have better table manners, because your parents would like that. But I promise I do, and I really want to take you somewhere nice to celebrate you.”

“What’s a man to do?” Aziraphale teased.

“I think I might just have to ask you to trust me a little,” Crowley said. “I know all the evidence is that I’m a boor, but I really do know how to conduct myself.”

Aziraphale kissed him lightly. “I’m absolutely certain you do, darling. And I’m only teasing. But in seriousness, we don’t have to go do anything special.”

“Of course we do. It’s your birthday, and your shithead family is completely ignoring it.”

“I’m quite used to that,” Aziraphale said. “But I specifically meant that you don’t have to do anything special.”

Crowley cocked a brow. “Am I not your boyfriend?”

“I certainly hope so,” Aziraphale grinned. “But what I was trying to say is that I’d be very happy just to spend a quiet evening at home, either yours or mine.” He had a curious look on his face, and Aziraphale asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just realized that you haven’t seen my flat at all, and I only saw yours long enough to pick up your bags.”

“Well, darling, you can rest assured that I intend to change that. I’d like for both of us to get very used to visiting each other’s flats. Often.”

“I’d like that too, angel. I’d love that,” Crowley said. “Well, alright, then, if you want to spend a quiet evening at home-“

“I’d like to keep my options open.”

“We can stay in, as an option. I can make dinner -”

“You cook?”

“I do, yes. So I would be happy to make you a nice meal, and then we could… sip wine in front of the fire? Watch a movie, or some telly? Both?”

“All of that sounds wonderful.”

“Good. That’s what we’ll do, if that’s what you want. What kind of movies and TV do you like?”

“Probably not anything that you’d like,” Aziraphale laughed.

“Oh, I feel sure we could find common ground. Do you like comedies?”

“I do, yes.”

“What about romcoms?”

“I do like them. I know that some people don’t, that they find them formulaic, but I rather like that. There’s a comfort to it.”

“Alright, we’ll cuddle up on the couch and watch romcoms.”

“Darling, really, you don’t have to-”

“Ah, ah, ah! Stop that, angel. This is not a matter of ‘have to’, this is entirely, one hundred percent ‘want to’. I want to make you happy - all the time, but especially when we’re celebrating your birthday.”

“Well, don’t you think I should know these things about you, so we can celebrate your birthday in June?”

Crowley’s eyes were soft. “You remembered my birthday?”

Aziraphale gave him a slightly puzzled look. “Yes, of course I do. It’s 20 June. Is it not?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Are you going to stay with me that long?”

Now Aziraphale was a little alarmed. “I was intending to, yes. Did I misread things? Do you not want me to -”

“No! No, that’s not it.” He was blushing. “It’s just that I want you with me for…. a lot of birthdays. I’d like for this one to be the first in a series.”

He nearly melted into the mattress. “Then I’ll pick the movie for my birthday, and you can pick the movie for yours.”

Crowley grinned. “You might not want to tell me that, angel. I like action movies… films where shit is blowing up and there are car chases. James Bond type of stuff.”

“Oh, I love the Ian Fleming novels! They’re fantastic! But I’ve never seen the movies… we could do that together, if you wanted.”

Crowley looked completely delighted. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“It’s a date,” Aziraphale said, satisfied. Then his smile grew a little mischievous and he said, “Of course, we’re forgetting something very important…”

“What’s that?” Crowley said, his hands sliding all over Aziraphale again, feeling so very soft…

“All of this is subject to Fergus’ approval, of course.”

Crowley’s ginger brows rose, but he was smiling. “Fergus? Why do I have to run anything by him?”

“Well, darling, he is my best friend, and he’s usually the one to celebrate my birthday with me. At the very least, he likes to spend time with me… he might have something planned.”

“Hmmph,” Crowley said, pulling Aziraphale close, his smile quirked. “I suppose he can come over while we’re having our quiet night in, but I’m not going to be making out with him. Only you.”

Aziraphale giggled when Crowley started kissing his neck. “I’m sure he’s going to be quite devastated to hear that…”

Crowley kissed a trail down his tendon, then his shoulder. “If he wanted to make out with me, he shouldn’t have introduced me to the most amazing,” he kissed Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Beautiful,” another kiss. “Clever,” yet another kiss, “wonderful man who ever drew breath.” He nibbled his collarbone. “This whole thing is entirely his fault.”

Aziraphale was already getting hard, and squirming a little. He had his hands on Crowley, sliding over smooth skin. “Really, darling, I don’t know if ‘fault’ is the word I’d use…”

Now Crowley was nibbling his adam’s apple. “Remind me to tell you how I threatened to kick his arse.”

He opened his eyes at that. “You did what?!”

Crowley raised his head to look at him, and there was the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I did. Told him I was going to beat him up next time I saw him.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“For not introducing me to you sooner,” Crowley said, grinning. “I could have had this years ago, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”

Aziraphale let out a loud, happy laugh, and Crowley was grinning when he covered his mouth and kissed him, slowly. He exulted in the kiss, feeling very much like he was flying. He felt like this kiss was full of promise, and tenderness, and something he was a little afraid to name, but absolutely reciprocated. If there had been any doubt that he was in love with Crowley, he no longer harbored said doubt. He was absolutely certain, and the knowledge that he was in love was simply joyous.

It wasn’t long before Crowley started kissing his cheek, then down his neck, murmuring sweet nothings and precious everythings as he descended. Aziraphale was relishing the attention, still giving his hands permission to explore Crowley, loving how silky his skin was. He slid his hand down into the back of Crowley’s boxer briefs to touch his arse, and Crowley reciprocated by putting his hand over Aziraphale’s hard cock, petting it lightly through his pants.

“Darling,” Aziraphale said, his voice a little bit of a whine.

“Yeah, angel?”

“I was wondering… would you be willing to have sex with me?”

“No,” Crowley said succinctly.

Aziraphale felt like he’d had a glass of cold water thrown in his face. “No?”

“No,” Crowley said, putting his hand inside Aziraphale’s pants now, wrapping it around his cock. “I’m going to make love to you, I’m going to drive you insane, I’m going to make you feel like the most precious thing in the world. I’m going to make sure you know that you’re beautiful and stunning and amazing and sexy. I’m going to leave no doubt in your mind how fucking crazy I am about you.”

Aziraphale whimpered a little, his hips moving involuntarily to thrust into Crowley’s hand. “And if I tell you that I’m already sure of those things?”

Crowley hummed, pumping Aziraphale lazily. “I’m not so sure you’re convinced.”

He sought out Crowley’s cock, wrapping his own hand around it, pumping slowly. Crowley made a little noise of pleasure when he used his thumb to play with the piercing. “But darling, I’m so eager for you. I want to feel this,” he said with a little twist of his wrist that made Crowley groan, “inside me.”

“Is that you want? You want me inside you?” Crowley teased, taking a break from stroking Aziraphale’s cock to push his pants down. Aziraphale released Crowley’s cock to help.

“Yes, please, that’s what I want…”

“Do we have time?” Crowley asked, now kissing his way down Aziraphale’s belly.

“I don’t care about the time. Please, darling…”

Crowley pressed one more kiss to his belly, then said, “Be right back.” He reached for the lubricant that was on the bedside table, and Aziraphale took the opportunity to pull down Crowley’s pants. Oh, goodness, they were going to have sex in just a moment, and he was almost beside himself with the thought…

He came back with the lubricant in hand, and kissed Aziraphale again, slow and worshipful. Aziraphale wrapped his hand back around Crowley’s cock and worked him while their tongues swirled. Crowley wasn’t stroking him, and he realized why when he heard the click of the lubricant bottle opening. The next thing he knew, Crowley was sliding two fingers between Aziraphale’s cheeks, seeking out his rim, massaging. Aziraphale made a filthy sound into his mouth.

“Do you want me to finger you, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, still kissing Aziraphale’s throat.

“Yes, please, I want your fingers, and then I want your cock. Please…”

“My pleasure,” Crowley crooned, then eased a finger inside his arsehole.

Aziraphale let out a low groan, his whole body arching a little. Crowley was sliding the finger in and out slowly, fucking him with it gently. “Is that good, angel?”

He nodded, eyes still closed. “It’s so good. It’s so very, very good. Please, give me another one.”

Crowley did as asked and eased another finger in beside the first, stretching Aziraphale just a little, but not nearly enough. He wanted to cry with how good it felt. His kisses all over Aziraphale’s neck and face were soft and worshipful, and Aziraphale loved them, but he was quickly becoming desperate for more.

“Darling, please,” he whined, moving his hips on the bed, wanting more, needing more. “Please, I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me. Please…”

“Anything you want, angel,” Crowley crooned, then kissed Aziraphale and moved, coming to lie between his legs. He grabbed the lubricant with his free hand - the other still fucking Aziraphale slowly - and slicked his cock quickly. Once he was satisfied, he tossed the bottle to the side. Aziraphale heard it clatter on the hardwood floor, but didn’t care. What he cared about was the fact that Crowley had withdrawn his fingers and was now lining his cock up with Aziraphale’s entrance.

“Yes, please,” Aziraphale begged, his hands on his love’s back. “Please, yes…”

Crowley lowered his body so he could kiss Aziraphale, then pressed in slowly - agonizingly slowly. Every millimeter felt like a miracle, made Aziraphale feel like he was going to explode from love and joy. He looked up to see that there was a look in Crowley’s eyes that took his breath away. It was tender, it was warm, it was fiery, it was intense, but more than anything else, it was loving. For the first time. Aziraphale thought that the depth of his feelings might be reciprocated.

“Are you alright, angel?” he asked, his voice tremulous.

Aziraphale nodded up at him. “I’m good. I’m wonderful. Please, darling, please…”

Crowley withdrew slowly, then pushed back in, also at a snails pace. It felt good, so good, but Aziraphale was about to explode, wanting more.

He was just about to ask when Crowley lowered his body and captured Aziraphale’s mouth while he rocked into him at a pace that Aziraphale felt was glacial. Aziraphale kissed him with ferocity, hoping that he would break his leash and fuck him like a madman, but Crowley seemed perfectly content to take his time and drive Aziraphale insane. Which was exactly where he was headed, and quickly.

When the kiss broke, Crowley went to nibble and suck at Aziraphale’s throat, again murmuring the sweet nothings. “You feel so good, angel… you make me so hot. You just… everything about you is so wonderful and lovely… you’ll never know… Jesus, sweetheart…”

Aziraphale was digging his fingers into Crowley’s back, feeling like he was on the verge of doing something rash. “Crowley, please. I need you… I need you to fuck me harder. Please…”

He sped up a fraction, and Aziraphale knew that he was never, ever going to be able to come this way.

So, making a decision, he put his hands on Crowley, wrapped his leg around his love's, and flipped him bodily onto his back, then clambered on as fast as he could.

Crowley was very, very sure he was in heaven. Nothing in his life had ever felt as good as being surrounded by Aziraphale, having his love’s arms around him, his heat wrapped around his cock. He felt connected in a way he’d never felt with any other lover. This was - this was heaven, and he wanted to keep this feeling for the rest of his natural life.

He was just leaving a mark on Aziraphale’s neck while his angel begged for more, unsure whether he wanted his family to see it or not - and not really caring - when all of the sudden, with no warning at all, he found himself flat on his back.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but things finally clicked into place when he saw Aziraphale coming to straddle his waist, taking his cock in hand and lining it up with his arsehole.

“Did you just flip me over?”

“I did,” Aziraphale said simply, easing back to take Crowley’s cock with a groan. He wasted zero time before he started bouncing on Crowley, making the bed creak. “I loved what you were doing, darling,” he said, his hands planted on Crowley’s chest and his cock bobbing in front of him. “I loved it. I really did. And I would very much like that some other time, when I’m not so keyed up. But for right now, I need it like this.”

“You can have it any way you want it,” Crowley promised, his voice strained.

Aziraphale leaned his head back and used one hand to start stroking his own cock. “Oh, God, Crowley, you feel so good inside me… I could ride you like this for hours…”

Crowley was running his hands all over Aziraphale’s thighs, before he batted Aziraphale’s fist away from his cock and started fucking him with his own hand. “You… fuck, sweetheart. You feel like a dream to me. And you look like a god sitting up there.”

“Do you want more?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I do. Ride me, sweetheart, take your pleasure from me. Fuck me the way you want.”

That was apparently the right thing to say, because the next thing Crowley knew, Aziraphale was riding him unlike anything Crowley had ever experienced, seen, or even heard of. The whole bed was shaking, making godawful noises. Aziraphale was also making loud noises, giving pornographic moans of pleasure, but Crowley didn’t care. Couldn’t possibly care. He felt himself inching closer to orgasm, and he could see a flush darkening on Aziraphale’s chest, leading him to believe that -

There was a loud crack in the room, and it felt like the world shifted. Crowley had a panicked moment, sure he hadn’t come, but unsure what had happened. He realized, when the bed dropped a few inches on one side, that the bed had broken. That was confirmed when one of the four posts clattered to the ground.

All motion on the bed had stopped, frozen in action, so Aziraphale was still sitting on Crowley’s cock, although Crowley’s grip on Aziraphale had gone protective. The bed was tilted now, one side apparently lying on the ground, and the other still hanging on for dear life.

“Are you alright?”

Aziraphale was wide eyed, but nodded. “I’m alright. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. But I need you to brace yourself.”

“Brace myself for what?”

“For this,” Crowley said, then grabbed him by the hips and started fucking into him like that was the only way to save both their lives.

Aziraphale howled with pleasure, his head thrown back, and grabbed his own cock again to stroke it wildly. “Yes, Crowley! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Ah! Ah! Yes!”

He was incredibly loud, but Crowley gave nary a shit. He was using all of his willpower to keep from coming like a freight train in Aziraphale’s arse.

“Come for me, angel,” he ground out. “Shit. I need you to come. I need it. Come for me, fucking cover me with your come. Please, please…ah! Please!”

“Yes! Yes! God! Yes! I’m coming! Oooh!”

Aziraphale released with a sound that could only be described as ‘unholy’, and Crowley felt pure satisfaction as he saw - and felt - hot ropes of come fly out, painting his belly.

But he only had a very quick second to be satisfied. This was a tricky position, given that they were tilted, and he was a little afraid of sliding off the bed. More than that, he was so fucking close to his own orgasm, he thought he’d die if he didn’t come soon. So he concentrated all his effort into seeking his own release, gratified by the way Aziraphale was wailing above him.

It only took a few seconds before he tumbled into his own bliss, his cock emptying deep in Aziraphale’s arse, and he grunted through gritted teeth while he felt like every cell in his body was exploding.

Crowley had no idea much time had passed while he lay there in a (crooked) fog of pleasure. All he knew was that he was happier than he’d ever been in his life. This was what sex was supposed to be, this is what it was meant to be like, this was everything he’d ever wanted in his whole life. And he’d do anything and everything to keep it forever.

For now, he was panting for oxygen, completely spent, lying on his back with his eyes closed. He didn’t have the strength in his trembling arms to reach up and touch Aziraphale, so they were sprawled out beside him while his chest heaved. He did smile at nothing when he heard Aziraphale groan, and then felt him collapse onto the bed beside him, on his arm. Aziraphale seemed equally out of breath, and if he was feeling anything like Crowley was feeling, he was still tingling -

There was another loud, inhuman groan, and then the bed, which had been tilted, finally fell the last few inches with a terrific thud, so it was lying flat.

Crowley opened his eyes when the bed dropped, and turned to look at Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked just as shocked, then their eyes met. At the exact same moment, they dissolved into laughter, and Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, holding him close, completely ignoring the mess on his belly.

“Well,” Crowley said a moment later. “That was a thing.”

“It was.”

“Far and away the most eventful sex I’ve ever had. I’ve never even come close to breaking a bed before.”

Aziraphale tittered. “No, I have to admit that I haven’t, either, but I’m not sorry to have done it this time.”

Crowley raised his head to look at Aziraphale. “Seriously, angel - where the hell did you learn that?!”

“I was an equestrian for several years.”

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.”

“What?” Aziraphale asked with a wicked look.

“I just… I hope you’re ready for a lot of birthdays, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting go of that anytime soon.”

Aziraphale grinned mischievously. “Is that why you keep me around? My sexual prowess?”

“Why I keep you around? No, no. I have other reasons for that. But it’s sure as hell a nice bonus.”

Aziraphale laughed delightedly. Crowley kissed him gently, then cuddled him a little. “In all seriousness, angel, I’m not sure our second run is gonna live up to -”

Both of them jumped a mile when there was suddenly a loud pounding on the door.

“What the devil is going on in there?!” came Derek’s voice.

“Fuck!” Aziraphale said, a little quieter. “It’s my father! He can’t see me like this!”

Derek was pounding again. “Aziraphale Eastgate, you have ten seconds to open this door or I am coming in there!”

Crowley pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll handle this. Don’t worry about it,” he said, then rolled off the bed quickly and put his feet on the floor - which was a little difficult, owing to the detritus of the bed. He used the corner of the sheet and halfheartedly wiped the semen off his belly, smearing it more than anything, then grabbed the spare blanket and wrapped it around his waist, holding it with one fist. He glanced back when he got to the door, even though Derek was pounding on it again, to see that Aziraphale was on his feet, scrambling around, looking for his clothes. As much as he liked looking at Aziraphale while naked, he turned back to the door and opened it just a couple of inches, putting his face in the crack.

Derek was standing there, looking absolutely livid, and behind him was Furfur, looking somewhat diminished.

Crowley gave both of them a smile. “We didn’t order room service, but thanks.”

He made to shut the door, and Derek’s hand stopped him from doing so. “You will tell me what is going in there right this instant,” he commanded.

Crowley grinned again. “Well, you see, Dad, we were just sitting around, playing tiddlywinks…”

Furfur made a little noise that Crowley couldn’t characterize, covering his mouth, and Crowley only had a moment to feel proud of that before Derek had bodily pushed the door open with surprising strength, coming into the room.

Crowley turned to see what he was seeing, and there was Aziraphale, pulling his trousers up over his bare arse - that had a pink handprint on it. The bed was utterly destroyed, lying in several pieces. The bottle of lubricant was lying open on the floor and there was the unmistakable smell of sex.

He couldn’t help his smirk.

Derek just looked around the room, his face growing more and more purple with every second, and Crowley could see that he was shaking with rage. Just to rub it in a little, Crowley walked over to Aziraphale and put his free arm around his waist, kissing his cheek.

“Both of you. Downstairs. In my study. Ten minutes,” Derek ground out.

Crowley put on a fake pout. “Awh, no brekkie? And we worked up such an appetite - playing tiddlywinks.”

Derek gave him a glare that might have killed another man, but Crowley just grinned back blandly.

“Ten minutes,” he said in as menacing a tone as Crowley had ever heard, then turned and stormed out. Furfur gave a little incline of his head, then followed Derek out - blessedly shutting the door behind him.

He held still with his arm around Aziraphale for a moment, then when he felt sure Derek and Furfur were gone, he let out a sigh and kissed the side of Aziraphale’s head. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked tenderly.

“I’m alright. A little anxious. I never enjoy my father’s wrath.”

“We’ll make up a story, and you can blame it on me. I was jumping on the bed or something. He already hates me, and he doesn’t like to think of you being gay. He’ll be willing to accept any platonic excuse that he can pin on me.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No. No, I’m not going to lie about you. I never, ever want to lie about you. I’m - I’m done being afraid of him, I think. We’ll face it together, and it will be fine. In the worst case scenario, we can just go home.”

Crowley felt a swelling of hope in his heart. “Home?”

“London. Your place, my place, I don’t care. We’ll just go there together.”

“Home,” Crowley said, the word filling his heart with love.

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Good. But for now, I need a shower. There’s standing up to my father, and then there’s wandering around reeking of sex.”

“Ah, yeah. Good point.” He glanced over at the clock beside the bed. “We’ll have to be quick, but I’m with you. Let’s do it.”

Chapter Text

The study was exactly what Crowley would have expected from someone like the Eastgates. All of the furniture looked to be some kind of red wood, perhaps cherry or mahogany, and there were some stunning built-in bookshelves lining the walls. It was stately - and a little imposing. Crowley was quite sure it had been planned as such. The walls that weren’t taken up by built-in bookshelves were a deep burgundy color, and had been adorned with paintings - as well as the heads of several hunting trophies. Crowley also didn’t miss the three long rifles that were hung up, nor the antique swords. He didn’t really fear any physical violence from a blowhard little man like Derek, but he almost respected the attempted power play of sitting Crowley in this room with the evidence of the fact that Derek was capable of killing. It was a psychological maneuver, and Crowley spotted it for what it was.

Pity for Derek, Crowley didn’t give a shit.

Right now, he was feeling a lot of things as he sat on the couch in Derek’s study. On one hand he was blissfully happy - how could he not be? He had a fantastic boyfriend that he had fallen in love with very rapidly, and he’d just made love to that boyfriend - and gotten ridden into oblivion, good lord. It had been years since he’d had sex like that. It wasn’t because of what they’d done - although what they’d done was amazing - it was because of the sheer enormity he’d felt while they were making love. Honestly, he’d called it making love before, but he hadn’t been prepared to have his world rocked like that, emotionally.

But he really needed to get his mind off of that immediately and focus on the problem at hand. Right at this moment, he had only a vague idea of what they were about to be dealing with - Derek had obviously been very, very upset, but he didn’t know how that anger would manifest. And all he cared about, the only thing in the world that he cared about, was keeping Aziraphale safe, both physically and emotionally.

Aziraphale’s palm was clammy against his, and his fingers that were threaded through Crowley’s were tense. There was tension written on every line of Aziraphale’s face, like he was walking into battle, and Crowley supposed that really, they were.

“Angel?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Yes, darling?” Aziraphale replied, and his voice had a quality to it that Crowley had never heard before. He wasn’t sure what he thought of it.

“I was wondering two things. The first is most important: are you okay?” he asked, reaching up to touch Aziraphale’s face tenderly.

Aziraphale seemed to melt a little under the touch, and the expression on his face grew much softer. His small smile was genuine when he said, “I’m alright, darling. Really. This is going to be unpleasant, but I’ve had other unpleasant moments with my parents. This is just the latest in a long line - and perhaps the last, depending on how this goes.”

“Well, that leads me to my next question. How do you want me to play this? What do you want me to do here? I can keep silent, I can be myself -”

“I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable doing, but I’d very much like for you to keep up the way you have been. I see no reason to be contrite in front of them.”

“I’d like to keep fucking with them, yeah, but I also don’t want to do anything that jeopardizes your relationship with your family.”

“Don’t worry about that, darling. You have at it, as they say.”

“How do you want me to be towards you?”

Aziraphale was opening his mouth to answer when the door to the study opened. Derek walked in stiffly, followed by Frances. Both of them looked more sour than Crowley had ever seen them. He chanced a glance over at Aziraphale, and he had expected Aziraphale’s face to go back to the stony look he’d had, but now it was a bit different. His sweet, gentle face was hard now, anger etched subtly on every inch. It terrified and thrilled Crowley in equal measure.

Derek came to sit behind the huge desk, and Frances stood beside his chair, her hand on the back of it. Crowley was reminded suddenly of the royal family portrait in Coming to America and had to stifle his laugh. He didn’t dare laugh at this moment.

It was quiet for a long moment while Derek and Frances looked disapproving, his fingers steepled in front of him. It was obvious that they were in some manner of standoff, and it was a question of who was going to crack first. Aziraphale’s expression and hand like granite in Crowley’s led him to believe that he wouldn’t be the one, but Derek and Frances didn’t appear eager to start the conversation. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner was almost deafening, and Crowley was a little afraid it was going to drive him crazy before someone -

“Explain yourself.”

It was showtime, and Crowley knew it. So he launched into some bullshit that sprang to mind.

“You see, one night in the eighties, there was a young woman named Lucy who went to a bar. She met a bloke and they hit it off -”

“That is not what I’m asking,” Derek said, with pure venom in his voice. In spite of himself, Crowley felt himself recoil a little from that kind of vitriol.

He was just thinking of what to volley back when Aziraphale said, “You know exactly what that was, Father. We were making love.” His voice was steely, and it was unbelievably sexy. Crowley wanted to hear that voice directed at him sometime. Some other time. Before he had a moment to process that thought, Aziraphale went on. “And if you think I’m going to apologize for it, you are sorely mistaken.”

A muscle ticked in Derek’s jaw. “You were asked to abstain from such… activities while under my roof.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have given us a room with only one bed to share. I know that you were hoping that I would insist Crowley sleep on the floor or in the chair, to ‘respect your rules’, but more to show him that he’s beneath you - and me. However, you seriously underestimated how we feel about each other.”

Crowley’s heart soared, and he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale squeezed back.

“Would you rather we put him in the servant’s quarters?” Frances asked testily.

“I’d have found him,” Crowley promised while Aziraphale’s parents glowered.

Aziraphale squeezed his hand again. “No, I’m quite happy with what you did. I find that I sleep much better in his arms, and waking up beside him is a unique joy.”

Crowley was trying not to vibrate into another plane of existence from glee. Frances looked distressed, and Derek was clearly growing angrier.

He was surprised when Aziraphale released his hand and put it on his leg, in an effort to stop it from bouncing. He murmured a tiny apology, and Aziraphale gave him a quick, tender look. Crowley smiled at him, then picked up Aziraphale’s hand and brought it to his lips to kiss, smirking at Derek the whole time.

Derek did not miss the gesture, and apparently, that was what pushed him over the edge. At once, he was on his feet and began to lecture angrily, staying just on this side of outright shouting. Crowley figured his role in this play right now was just to sit there and hold Aziraphale’s hand.

Derek ranted about propriety, and how this incident was going to make the entire family look bad, and how they’d violated decorum. Aziraphale just sat there beside Crowley, his hand on his knee, looking completely uncontrite. In fact, he looked as if Derek’s words weren’t registering with him at all.

“And what’s more,” Derek blustered, “that bed was two hundred and sixty years old! It’s been in the family for generations! And -”

Crowley butted in then, unable to help himself. “Two hundred and sixty years?” He let out a low whistle. “Guess they don’t make them like they used to, eh? Still, she had a good, long life, and she died in battle. May she rest in pieces.”

Derek seemed to have hit his limit. He wheeled around and shouted at him, “Young man, would you kindly shut the fuck up?”

Before Crowley could react, Aziraphale had jumped in. “Father, you may speak to me any way you choose. But if you speak to Crowley like that again, we are walking out of this room and you will never see or hear from me again. Do you understand?”

All eyes turned to look at Aziraphale, who looked downright deadly in that moment. Crowley had never loved a human more than he loved Aziraphale right then.

“Angel,” he said quietly, unable to help himself.

Aziraphale didn’t even get a chance to turn and look at him before Frances had chimed in. “You wouldn’t, dear. You wouldn’t choose this… this man over your family.”

“You may test that assumption at your convenience, Mother,” Aziraphale said coolly.

Crowley nearly proposed on the spot.

“How could you do this?” Frances asked. “How could you do this to us? How could you do this to the good God above? We raised you better than this -”

“Mother, I would like to caution you against proselytizing at the two of us. I really don’t think you quite realize how close you are to never seeing me again, right at this moment. What’s more, if it’s wrong for us to be together, to make love here, then it’s wrong everywhere. Is that what you want me to take away from this? That you see my relationship and myself as wrong and against God?”

Derek and Frances both looked angry at that, and Crowley knew that Aziraphale had just scored a point. He was itching to say something, anything, but it looked like he wasn’t going to get a chance. There was a knock at the door, and Derek barked, “What?!”

Furfur stepped in, looking apologetic, and Derek snapped again. “What is it, Furfur? I told you we weren’t to be disturbed.”

“I understand that, sir, and I’m sorry, but Mr. Fitzgerald is here, and he’s looking for Mr. Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley. Also the Earl was searching for you.”

“I’m coming, Furfur,” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet. Crowley jumped to stand up with him, and grabbed his hand again. He was soothed when Aziraphale held his hand just as surely and the two of them started towards the door.

“We’re not done here-”

“Oh, I think we are, Father,” Aziraphale said coldly, turning to look at him with flinty eyes. “You seem to be under the impression that you can dictate how I act, and I am done with that. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but if I’m staying, it will be with Crowley.” Crowley thought his heart was going to swell out of his chest, and he also thought Aziraphale was done, but then Aziraphale got a truly bastard glint in his eye and said, “I’m quite sorry that you two don’t enjoy the rods you’ve had up your arses for all these years, but that is not going to stop me from enjoying the rod up mine.”

Crowley’s laughter was like an explosion, but not fast enough that he didn’t hear the horrified gasps from everyone else in the room. Aziraphale looked totally smug at their reaction, then said, “Good day, Father. Mother. I’ll see you at the wedding. Come along, Crowley.”

Crowley came one way, but he damn near came another.

He was still cackling for a minute after they left the study, and Aziraphale’s eyes were sparkling.

“Furfur,” Aziraphale said blandly, “where did you say Fergus was?”

“In the rec room, sir.”

“Thank you, we’ll take it from here,” Aziraphale said, then pulled Crowley into a room to the right. Crowley followed obediently, ready to check on Aziraphale and see how he was.

“Sweetheart, are you -” was all he got out before Aziraphale grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him, hard. Crowley accepted the kiss, and gloried in it, his arms wrapped around this man he loved, this man that made his heart smile.

When the kiss broke a moment later, they put their foreheads together while they caught their breaths - and Crowley managed to get his thoughts together. He reached up to touch Aziraphale’s face gently, struggling to keep his thoughts together. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

“My darling, I’ve never been so wonderful in my life!”

Crowley gave a small smile. “Really?”

“Yes! Really! Don’t you see? I’m with you, and I just told my father off! Fergus is here! This is the best birthday I ever, ever had, and it’s all down to you! I feel so free, and I never would have had any of it without you…”

He grinned at him. “Well, maybe the Fergus bit…”

Aziraphale laughed and kissed him again. Crowley gloried in the kiss, gloried in the way this made him feel, in the way Aziraphale made him feel. But he was reminded suddenly that they had been on the way to someplace.

“Sweetheart, I love kissing you more than anything else in the world, but Fergus is waiting…”

“He can wait another minute, dear,” Aziraphale said, then kissed him again. Crowley wasn’t about to argue with that. Kissing Aziraphale was already his favorite thing to do, and he wanted to get really, really good at it. It felt like he was on his way.

After a moment, Aziraphale broke the kiss and smiled at him, which made Crowley’s heart flutter more. God almighty, he was just so beautiful…

“Come on, darling,” Aziraphale said, tugging at his hand. “Let’s go see Fergus.”

Crowley followed him, just like a puppy.

It occurred to him, though, as they walked, that Fergus didn’t know that they were properly together now. That that they were in a relationship. And he had no idea if Aziraphale had told him.

He was just about to ask Aziraphale whether he’d told him when they rounded the corner and went into what Crolwey privately called ‘the cozy room’. Fergus was standing on the far side of the room, looking out the window at the snow that was just starting to cover the ground, and Crowley got the distinct joy of seeing Aziraphale light up even further when he spotted his best friend.

“Now, Fergus,” Aziraphale said in a voice that Crowley recognized as his bastard tone. “I simply refuse to be seen with you in that.”

Fergus turned around and smiled at both of them. “Happy birthday, Az!”

Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand to go to his friend and hug him tight. It warmed the cockles of his heart.

“Oof,” said Fergus playfully. “You’re not usually so excited to see me. What’s going on?”

“I need to thank you,” Aziraphale said.

“For what?” Fergus asked.

“Pretty sure he means for me,” Crowley said, at the same moment Aziraphale stepped back beside him. He put his arm comfortably around Aziraphale’s waist.

Fergus raised a brow, but he was smiling. “Does this mean I’m off the hook for an arsekicking?”

Aziraphale giggled and Crowley scoffed. “Pfft. I could kick your arse, but this is the best thing that ever happened to me. So…”

He gestured to the two of them. “So this is a real thing?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale said, looking up at Crowley dreamily. “This is very much a thing.”

Crowley couldn’t help it, he had to press a soft kiss to his love’s lips at that moment.

“Well, I have to tell you that I didn’t envision this happening,” Fergus said, looking pleased.

“I didn’t either,” Aziraphale said.

“I did,” Crowley said. “From the night we met, I was determined to ask him on a date. How could I not be crazy about this man?” he asked, squeezing Aziraphale a little.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Fergus said, extending his hand for Crowley to shake. Crowley took it and shook it, but when he went to release, Fergus held on. Tight. He was smiling but his hazel eyes were glinting when he said, “You should know, though, that as happy as I am, and as much as you and I are friends, Az is my best friend. If you hurt him, I will murder you with my bare hands, and no one will ever find you.”

Crowley grinned at him. “You do not ever have to worry about that. I promise.”

“Good,” Fergus said, looking satisfied.

“I’m so sorry we were late to see you,” Aziraphale said. “Father was giving us… well he was attempting to give us a dressing down, for breaking the bed -”

Fergus’ brows were near his hairline. “You broke a bed?”

“We did, yes, but that’s not the important part right now. Fergus, I told him off,” Aziraphale said proudly.

“You did not.”

“I did!”

“He did,” Crowley confirmed proudly. “Derek told me to shut the fuck up, and Aziraphale told him that if he ever spoke to me like that again, he’d never see his son again.”

Fergus’ eyes were wide. “You did not.”

Aziraphale sounded giddy. “I did! And I meant it, too!”

“You should have seen his face,” Crowley said, squeezing his waist. “I’m a little surprised he didn’t have a stroke right there in front of us.”

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s not a great deal more to tell, really.”

“I want the play by play. Gimme.”

Crowley nudged him. “Tell him about the rod up his arse, angel.”

Fergus looked like if he’d had pearls, he’d have been clutching them. “You didn’t.”

“I did, yes.”

“Tell me everything.”

There was the sound of people coming from down the hall. “Later,” Aziraphale said. “For right now, there’s too many people around, and I’m afraid I must break your heart.”

“Oh yeah?” Fergus asked. “How are you doing that?”

“Because I know you wanted to do something for my birthday next weekend, but I’m afraid Crowley has staked his claim.”

“Damn right I did,” Crowley said, grinning.

Fergus looked amused by this. “Oh, I see how it is. Throwing me over for the new boytoy, eh?”

“I’m not throwing you over, you drama queen,” Aziraphale teased.

“Sure sounds like it!” Fergus teased right back. “Seriously, what has he got that I don’t?”

Crowley said, “Well, to start with, I have a willingness - and eagerness - to hmmph…”

Aziraphale cut off the rest of what he was going to say with a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t think he needs to know all of that, darling, now does he?”

He kissed Aziraphale’s hand before the angel withdrew it. “Fair enough,” he said to Aziraphale, loving him so much. Then he looked at Fergus. “I guess the only thing I have to tell you is that we just broke an eighteenth century bed, so you can draw your own conclusions.”

Fergus laughed. “I’m perfectly fine doing that. Well, since you’re spoken for now, maybe we can arrange some kind of throuple date.”

“You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m sharing him,” Crowley snorted.

“You’d better!” Fergus insisted. “I had him first!”

Aziraphale tittered and stepped in. “Now, boys. There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Crowley pretended to be considering. “Well, I guess I can share him,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple.

“And I can tag along sometimes,” Fergus said cheerfully.

“Of course you can, dear,” Aziraphale said, “just don’t be surprised if we start making out without warning. We do tend to be very drawn to each other.”

“Just keep your genitals in your pants while I’m around and we’re good,” Fergus said genially. “Seriously, I’m looking forward to this. Hanging out with both of you at the same time - sounds like a winner to me!”

Just then, Crowley heard the sound of Aziraphale’s stomach growling. It occurred to him that he had not eaten, either, and now that he thought about it, he was pretty hungry. So he smiled at Fergus.

“Now that we’ve got that settled, are you hungry? Because Aziraphale and I haven’t eaten anything yet, and I hear my sweetheart’s stomach growling.”

“I had a donut before I left London, but that was two hours ago. So yeah, I think I could handle a brunch.”

“Excellent,” Aziraphale said. “Let’s head that way.”

Chapter Text

The whole manor was in something of a tizzy, getting ready for the wedding that evening. Crowley had noticed that most of the servants tended to stay hidden - probably to avoid unnecessary contact with the masters of this house - but today, on the way to the breakfast room with Aziraphale and Fergus, he saw more of them scurrying around, doing odd jobs to prepare for guests. Crowley had a great deal of respect for anyone who worked in service, and especially anyone who worked in service to a family like the Eastgates. It had to be a miserable job. So he made a point to smile kindly at every person he encountered in service. He felt like it was the least he could do.

He was holding hands with Aziraphale, walking down the corridor and chatting with Fergus, when he heard, “Fergus!”

All three of them looked up to see Muriel a little ways away, smiling at them. Muriel had broken away from Ella, who was looking a little shocked, and was running to Fergus. He met her with a big hug and a smile.

He spun her around while she laughed, then sat her down on her feet and squeezed her shoulders. “There you are! How’s the little sister I never had?”

“I’m way better now that you’re here! Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” She gestured towards Ella. “Fergus Fitzgerald, this is Ella Osgood. Her father is the Earl of Benedict, and her sister is marrying our brother in a few hours. Ella, this is Fergus Fitzgerald, Aziraphale’s best mate. And my honorary big brother,” she said proudly.

Crowley hardly noticed what she said, because he was looking back and forth between the two people being introduced. Ella looked a little like she’d seen a ghost - she was slightly pale and her eyes were wide. When he looked at Fergus, he was downright shocked at the look on his friend’s face. He looked like he’d been hit over the head with something hard, and as Crowley watched, a huge, dopey smile unlike anything Crowley had ever seen spread across his face.

And then he watched in amazement as Fergus gave her a smile that was absolutely devastating just before he stepped forward.

“Fergus Fitzgerald, miss,” he said, extending his hand.

“Petronella,” she said, offering her own hand. “I mean, Ella. Everyone calls me Ella.”

“That is an absolutely gorgeous name,” Fergus said, then bent over her hand to kiss it.

Crowley glanced over to see Aziraphale’s reaction to all this, and found him with a look not unlike his bastard look. He looked pleased… and smug.

“Ladies, we were just about to go to the breakfast room and have a spot of brunch. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, yes,” Fergus said at once. “Please do join us.”

“I’d love to!” Muriel said. “What do you think, Ella?”

“Huh? Oh, sure. Yeah. That’d be great.”

“Then by all means,” Fergus said, giving her another smile that seemed to hit her between the eyes. “Let’s head that way.”

They started walking in that direction, and Crowley noticed that Fergus was still smiling like a loon when he walked a little faster to catch up with the ladies, leaving he and Aziraphale behind. He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, and Aziraphale turned to him.

“Are you seeing this?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale said quietly. “He just deployed the knickerburner.”

Crowley gave him a curious look. “The knickerburner?”

“I’ll explain later,” Aziraphale said, “we’re at the breakfast room.”

He was delighted when Aziraphale pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as they rounded the corner to go into the room.

They found Anathema and Newt in there, just sitting down with the plates they’d made themselves from the buffet. “Oh, yay!” Anathema said. “Fergus is here!”

“Wotcher, Ana,” Fergus said with a grin. But it was a completely different smile than he had given Ella, and Crowley wondered again about ‘the knickerburner’.

He followed Aziraphale over to the buffet with Fergus and the ladies, making himself a plate of food. He thought seriously about instigating some sort of shenanigans, but thought better of it after the scene in the study a little while ago. He’d give it a rest for the next few hours - unless he was provoked.

It didn’t take long before they all had plates full of food and sat down. Fergus seemed almost crestfallen when Ella sat down beside Crowley, and then Muriel immediately took the seat on her other side. It was amusing to see him nearly pout as he sat down on the other side of Aziraphale, next to his best friend that Crowley knew he loved very much. For his part, Aziraphale seemed even more amused than Crowley was.

“Are you lot ready for the wedding?” Fergus asked genially, apparently having rebounded.

Anathema scoffed. “Not remotely. But we’ll start getting ready in about an hour.”

“What does that entail?”

Muriel piped up. “The three of us, Ana, Ella, and I, have to report to the Webb room at ten thirty to have our hair and makeup done.”

“It’s a whole thing,” Anathema said. “A day of beauty or some shit like that.”

Fergus grinned at them. “Not like any of you need it.”

“Hear, hear,” added Aziraphale.

Muriel looked proud. Anathema was smirking like she knew what Fergus was up to. Ella was blushing almost violently.

“There’s a photographer that will be there, taking our pictures all day while we get dressed,” Anathema volunteered.

“There’s actually a photography team,” Ella said, speaking for the first time. “I think there are three of them.”

“Well that’s just fantastic,” Anathema snarked.

“Oh, it won’t be so bad,” Muriel said. “It could be a lot worse!”

“I just hate when people mess with my hair,” she said. “And I don’t like it up, but I guess it’s the bride’s day,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

“Why are you getting ready so early? The wedding isn’t until five, right?”

“It’s not, no, but we have to get all prettified and then have a bunch of photos made.”

“That’s true,” Aziraphale said. “I have to report for photos at three, myself.”

“I thought photos were taken after a wedding,” Crowley said.

“They are,” Muriel said. “But only some of them - the ones that include the bride and groom together.”

“Because they’re not supposed to see each other until the big moment,” Anathema supplied, using jazz hands to illustrate her point. “So we will take all the photos we can with them individually, all the family photos and whatnot, and then after, we’ll take all the ones with them together.”

“It’s to hopefully streamline things,” Ella said.

“Yes, but it still takes at least an hour after the wedding.”

“Well, that sucks,” Fergus said.

“It’ll be alright,” Crowley said bracingly. “Me and you and Newt can just hang around at the bar while we wait. Right?”

“Sounds good to me,” Fergus said.

The conversation moved on to other wedding-related topics, and Crowley was happy to just let the people around him who all knew each other talk. But he was surprised when he felt a nudge from beside him and turned to see that Ella was trying to get his attention.

When he acknowledged her, she leaned over and, in a very quiet voice, asked, “Is that really Fergus Fitzgerald, or is this some sort of elaborate prank with a body double?”

Crowley gave her a little smile and spoke in an equally soft voice. “No, that’s really him. Aziraphale and I are friends with him. Aziraphale is actually best friends with him. He’s the one that introduced us.”

“Does he… is he…” She was blushing wildly again. “Is he a nice man?”

Crowley put as much gentleness and sincerity into his voice as he could. “He’s the nicest man you could ever hope to meet. An absolute prince.”

She seemed to digest that for a moment, then asked, “Is he, um, is he seeing anyone?”

“If he is, I haven’t heard anything about it.” He leaned a little closer. “And what’s more, I think you’ve caught his eye.”

Her face was beet red again. “Do you really think so?”

“I absolutely do. And you should probably know that he’s not the sort of man who will flirt with someone while he’s seeing someone else. He would never do such a thing.”

Ella looked quietly pleased by that, and murmured a thank you before she sat up and returned to her plate. Crowley grinned to himself and was about to stab a kipper with his fork when he was nudged from the other side. He turned to see his love trying to get his attention.

“What was that about?” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley couldn’t resist the temptation to tease. “My, my, angel, aren’t you a little gossiphound?”

“Oh, hush,” he said sourly, although he was smiling. “Is everything okay, really?”

He leaned a little closer. “I think we might have a little love connection on our hands, angel.”

“Oh, jolly good,” Aziraphale said, looking pleased. “Fergus will be happy to hear that.”

“We can tell him in a bit,” Crowley said, then pecked Aziraphale quickly, just because he couldn't help it, and went back to his kipper before it got cold.

A little less than an hour later, when the ladies had been bundled off to do whatever beautification things they were supposed to do (but as Fergus had pointed out, didn’t actually need), Aziraphale was walking back down the corridor towards the rec room holding hands with Crowley, with Fergus and Newt coming along. Newt had been fairly quiet all through brunch, even more quiet than usual, and Aziraphale was wondering about it. He wasn’t that fussed over it, though. Newt wasn’t exactly talkative, anyway.

Aziraphale was feeling ebullient, just so very happy, as they sat down on the couch in the rec room. Crowley sat down beside him without hesitation, draping his arm around him. The fact that they could even do that, that it was a thing that they could do, was novel and wonderful, and he hoped the shine never wore off of it. He didn’t realistically think it would.

“So, Newt,” Aziraphale said, trying to be friendly. “Tell us about how you met Anathema.”

“Oh. Um, I met her at her house.”

“Her house?” Fergus said.

“Um, yes. I was… I was lost, see, and I looked down at my map for just a moment, and the next thing I knew, I had wrecked. I was thrown out of my car.”

“Shit, mate.”

“That’s terrible, but how did you meet Anathema?”

“I, um, well, she came and helped me. Took me into her house. She - she told me that our meeting was foretold by a prophecy.”

The other three men laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like our Ana,” Fergus said.

Newt still looked uncomfortable. “So, um, yeah. That’s how we met.”

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, concerned.

“Fine!” Newt said brightly, in a voice that was almost squeaky. “Just fine!”

Aziraphale gave him a pitying look. “It’s alright, dear. He’s just a normal person.”

Newt looked confused. “What? Who?”

“Me,” Fergus said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of or whatever, just because I’m famous...”

Newt still looked confused, and then he looked embarassed. “You’re famous? I, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

A gigantic laugh erupted out of Crowley. “Oh, God, Fergus. That’s rich.”

“What?” Fergus defended. “It happens sometimes.”

Crowley was still laughing fit to burst, and Aziraphale was having a hard time fighting down his snickers. “You’re not living that one down, mate,” Crowley promised.

Fergus rolled his eyes, smiling. “Arsehole.”

“Well, dear, if I may ask, if it’s not that Fergus is famous, what is it?”

“It’s just… you’re all so cool, aren’t you?”

Crowley snorted again. “You think we’re cool?”

“Well you are!” Newt defended. “And I can deal with everyone being proper and all that, I know how to work with proper, but you guys… it’s intimidating.”

Aziraphale felt for him. “My dear, that’s entirely understandable that you would be intimidated by people you don’t know. And these two should bear that in mind,” he said with a mock-stern look for Crowley and Fergus.

“Okay, change of subject: I have a question for the room at large,” Fergus said. “Do any of you guys know anything about Ella?”

Aziraphale was smug, his suspicion confirmed, and Crowley piped up. “I think Newt has spent the most time with her.”

Fergus turned to him eagerly. “Can you tell me about her?”

“I don’t know her well,” Newt hedged, looking to be on the spot.

“I’ll take any info you have, mate,” Fergus said eagerly.

“Well, um, she’s twenty seven, and she just finished up a graduate degree.”

“In what?” Aziraphale asked, figuring he’d jump in and do a little of the work for his best friend.

“Neuroscience.”

“Fuck,” Fergus said.

“What?”

“I know diddly shit about brains.”

Crowley snorted. “You can say that again.”

Aziraphale tittered, while Fergus said, “Oi. Don’t make me rescind my blessing on you two.”

“You can try,” Crowley said with a grin, tracing his fingers up and down Aziraphale’s arm.

“At any rate, I know nothing about brain chemistry.”

“Well, dear, you have about six hours to learn,” Aziraphale teased.

“I’ll go to the library after this. But first, Newt, my main man, tell me more.”

“Ah, yes. Um… Her mother was opposed to her going back and getting more education, and she was opposed to Ella getting an education in something so ‘manly’.”

Fergus scoffed. “There’s nothing manly about her.”

Aziraphale smiled at him.

Newt seemed to be slipping into his role as the giver of information rather easily. “She took her gap year in Europe, and then she majored in biology. When she finished, she worked some kind of job, I don’t know what it was, but her mother disapproved. Then her mother also objected when she wanted to go back for a grad degree. So Ella went to the US and studied at UCLA.”

“Her mother didn’t want her to get a degree?”

“Not in something so masculine. She was encouraging a bachelors in English Literature, but Ella went her own way.”

“Good for her,” Aziraphale said proudly.

“Now she is living in London, working for one of the universities, I forget which. Her mother is pushing her to get married.”

Fergus leaned forward with an intense look on his face. “Mate, if you tell me she’s single, with no boyfriend, I’m going to throw this tosser over and you’re going to be my new best friend.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Aziraphale remarked, amused. “But yes, Newt, that news would be welcome, if you have it.”

“Ah, yes. She is single with no boyfriend.”

Fergus punched the air. “Yes!”

“And,” Crowley chimed in. “I have even better news for you.”

“How could it possibly get better?”

“She was asking about you at brunch.”

Fergus’ eyes were dancing. “Careful, Crowley, because depending on what you tell me, I might just kiss you right the mouth.”

“You will have to get through me first, dear,” Aziraphale said mildly, and Fergus shot him a grin before he turned back to Crowley.

Crowley was also grinning. “She asked me if you were really Fergus Fitzgerald, and I confirmed that you were. She asked if you were a nice guy, and I informed her that you’re a giant ponce with bad breath.”

Everyone laughed. “You did not!” Fergus accused.

“No, I didn’t. I told her you were an absolute prince. And…” he said, drawing it out to raise suspense. “She asked me if you were single.”

Much to Aziraphale’s surprise, Fergus gave a yelp of joy and jumped out of his seat to grab Crowley by the face and plant one on him.

“Oi!” Aziraphale laugh-squawked, swatting at his best friend. “Get your own!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized as he retook his seat, while Crowley and Newt laughed. “That’s just… the best fucking news.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said with a grin. “It looks as if you used the knickerburner to great effect.”

“What the hell is the knickerburner, anyway?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale smiled at him. “At uni - and then after - Fergus sussed out that if he smiled at ladies just the right way, they would fall all over him. And we used to joke that when he smiled at them, he would set their knickers on fire.”

“Panties au flambe,” Fergus said with a cocky grin.

“And to be fair to him, it’s almost entirely effective. I’ve never seen him smile that way at a woman who wasn’t immediately enamored with him.”

“I imagine that for most of them, it didn’t take setting their knickers on fire for them to be enamored of him,” Crowley said dryly.

“Well, no, that’s fair,” Aziraphale said. “It’s most effective when the woman is already attracted to him.”

“But it certainly helps,” Fergus added, grinning.

“It should be categorized as some sort of weapon,” Aziraphale replied fondly. “But really, he doesn’t use it very much anymore. He was throwing it around all over the place at uni, but I think he’s learned to be more selective.”

“I have,” Fergus said. “In fact, I haven’t smiled at a woman like that in, fuck, probably a year or two.”

“So Ella must really be special,” Newt said.

“I intend to find out, mate,” Fergus replied. “Thank all of you very much for your help. Now, if I may change the subject…” He gave Aziraphale and Crowley a look. “I absolutely demand to know more about this bed situation.”

“Bed situation?” Newt asked.

“Yes,” Fergus said while Aziraphale blushed. “Apparently, these two broke a bed.”

“Wait, you mean that was true?” Newt said incredulously. “Ana just thought it was gossip!”

“No, it’s true,” Crowley said proudly, tightening an arm around Aziraphale while Fergus looked smug.

Newt, however, looked confused. “Aren’t you a little old to be jumping on the bed or whatever?”

Fergus laughed through his nose and Crowley made a choking sound. Aziraphale turned to look at him, and his eyes were streaming. “Darling, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Marshmallow went down wrong.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at him playfully, largely because Crowley was drinking coffee, then turned to Newt. “To answer your question, I personally find that bouncing on the bed has some fantastic rewards, when it’s done right.”

Newt’s face cleared as the penny dropped, and he stammered. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, that was -”

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” Aziraphale said. “It was a perfectly logical conclusion to draw.”

Fergus began to pepper Newt with more questions, and Crowley took the opportunity to turn around and murmur, “Poor Anathema.”

Aziraphale scoffed a little and murmured back. “Don’t worry, love. She’ll straighten him out.”

“I have no doubt about that, angel,” Crowley said, then kissed Aziraphale’s temple.

He was a little afraid he was going to die from the sheer amount of love he felt.

They chatted for a while longer while sipping coffee and cocoa, and Aziraphale was pleased that Newt was warming up. He rather liked Newt, and thought that it would be nice to -

“Hey, Az, where’s the bathroom?” Fergus asked.

Aziraphale gave him a look. “Right down the corridor, second door on the right.”

“I’m thinking I might get lost. Would you show me?”

Aziraphale cottoned on immediately. “Absolutely, dear.” He kissed Crowley’s cheek. “Be back in a minute, darling.”

“I’ll be here,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale got up.

He had a fairly good idea of what Fergus wanted, and he was proven right when they got in the corridor and Fergus said, “So this is really a thing. You and Crowley.”

Aziraphale beamed. “It is, indeed, a thing.”

“I take it you’re happy about this?”

“Oh, Fergus, I’m absolutely over the moon about this. I couldn’t possibly be happier.”

“So you two are, what? Official?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, smiling. “He actually got down on one knee in the shower and asked me to be his boyfriend.”

Fergus raised a brow. “In the shower?”

“Yes! Isn’t that silly? He got down on his knee right there, and he barely got a word out because the water was hitting him in the face,” Aziraphale laughed. “He’s so funny, but I love him so much.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fergus said, hands raised. “A big word has just entered the chat.”

Aziraphale felt himself blush and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby. “I didn’t mean to tell you that quite in that way, and probably not right now. But it’s true. I’m madly, desperately, arse over teakettle in love with him. I truly believe that I’m destined to spend a long, long time with him. And he feels the same way!” he said, giddy.

“Isn’t it a little soon? I mean, you just met him last week.”

Aziraphale laughed, “My dear, you just kissed my boyfriend on the mouth because he told you that Ella asked about you. You have no stones to throw.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a crush on her, but I’m not throwing around heavy words,” Fergus said. He pulled Aziraphale to a stop. “Listen, Az. You’re my best friend, and other than my mum, you’re the person I love most in this entire world. And I love Crowley, too. He’s a fantastic friend. I could not possibly be happier that the two of you have hit it off and are together. Truly. But I think it would be wise for you to check the depth of the water before you dive in headfirst, know what I mean?”

“I think I do, but tell me more.”

“If you’re in love with him and meant to spend forever with him, it’s going to happen. But I would encourage you to let things happen in their own time. Okay? I’ve had friends who met women that they were madly in love with after a couple of days or weeks or whatever, so they make huge life decisions very quickly, before they truly know the other person, and they nearly always regret it.”

“What are you saying? That I should back off?”

“No, I’m not saying back off. But I am saying that I would refrain from taking any major relationship steps in the first few weeks or months of your relationship. Especially legally binding ones. Let yourself grow into things a bit. There’s no need for you to sell your flat or anything, and you certainly don’t need to be getting married right now.”

“Honestly, Fergus, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. The concept of us being together for a long time is something that I want very much, but it’s also nebulous. We haven’t talked about it a great deal.”

“Just… do me a personal favor and don’t propose or anything like that for a while. Let things just happen, at least for a few months. Can you do that for me?”

“I can, yes. I will try to be a little less enthusiastic.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I want you to be enthusiastic, because I’m enthusiastic about it. But I want you to let things develop naturally. This is a high pressure, very intense situation. Let yourself spend some time with him when you’re not united against an enemy. Okay? I’m only saying this because I love you, and I love him, and I truly would love it if you were together for a long time. I don’t want you to mess it up.”

Aziraphale reached out and hugged him. “Thank you, Fergus. Thank you for introducing me, thank you for this wisdom… thank you. I feel very lucky that you were such a rotten student.”

Fergus laughed and clapped him on the back. “Me, too. Now, in all seriousness, would the library have any books on brain stuff?”

“Neurobiology,” Aziraphale supplied helpfully. “And any books we have on the topic would be antiquated, but you know where the computer is, and you know my password.”

“Thanks, man,” Fergus said, clapping him on the shoulder again. “I guess it’s time for me to go learn about brains.”

“You do that, I’m going to go see my boyfriend,” he said, with a grin.

“See you in a bit?”

“See you in a bit,” Aziraphale agreed, then gave Fergus a smile and turned around, headed back to the rec room and his love.

Chapter Text

Crowley was lounging on the bed (that was now simply a mattress and boxsprings on the floor) in the bedroom he and Aziraphale had been given. And even though the room was still as jarringly hideous as ever, he was feeling quite content and peaceful with… just about everything. He honestly couldn’t think of anything to complain about at the moment. There were things that he objectively knew were not great about the situation he was in. To be honest, as he’d said, he was in a den of vipers in a lot of ways. But he was in a den of vipers with Aziraphale. There was no one else he’d rather be facing adversity with.

Speaking of his love, Aziraphale had gone into the bathroom to change into his suit for the wedding, although Crowley didn’t quite understand why. He had an hour and a half before he had to be anywhere for pictures, but he’d insisted on getting dressed now. Crowley didn’t question it, he just went along with whatever Aziraphale wanted. He didn’t really have anything better to do, since Fergus had been holed up on the computer cramming like he was about to take a life-changing final exam. But if he was being honest with himself, it wouldn’t have mattered if Fergus was available. Crowley would rather be with Aziraphale, anyway. No contest.

“Is there anything I need to know about this shindig?” he asked, knowing his voice would carry through the bathroom door that had been left somewhat ajar.

“What kind of things?”

“I dunno,” Crowley replied. “Relatives to avoid - or suck up to. Stuff like that.”

“Well, I do have an Aunt Davina that’s almost certain to get drunk and pinch you.”

“Oh, is she a cheek pincher?”

Aziraphale’s head appeared around the door, and he was wearing his bastard smile. “Not those cheeks, dear.”

Crowley laughed loudly, full of joy, and Aziraphale winked before he ducked his head back into the bathroom. God, Crowley loved him.

"Try to stay away from Father, if you can,” Aziraphale advised.

He snorted a little. "Don't need telling twice."

"And ...well, I've several relations who will probably not look fondly on you, but a few who may flirt outrageously, if you don't mind being flirted with by elderly women."

“Oh, that sounds fun.”

“Now, darling, please don’t be ugly to my elderly family.”

“No, no. You misunderstand me. Have I told you about how much I love the Golden Girls?”

Aziraphale poked his head back out of the bathroom. “You’re joking!”

“I am not. It’s my favorite show.”

“I never would have expected that, but it’s terribly charming.”

Crowley chuckled and Aziraphale withdrew again. “At any rate, being flirted with by octogenarians sounds like a damn fine time to me.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to keep up with them?”

He scoffed. “Obviously you’ve never seen me in action.”

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, sounding horribly amused. “If there’s more to your ‘action’ than what I’ve seen already, I’m in danger of losing you to my Aunt Davina.”

“Depends on how many times you dance with me, angel,” Crowley teased.

“I think I might be able to spare you a dance or two,” Aziraphale teased right back. “I'm going to ask you to have a dance with Ella, so she's not lonely."

He scoffed. "Like Fergus is going to let go of her that long. Did you see how he looked at her?"

“I did, yes. I’m quite excited by it.”

“Have you ever seen him like this?”

“Yes, but not in a good, long while. Fergus was fairly capricious with the opposite sex in uni, and for a couple of years after he signed to the league, but he settled down a great deal about ten years ago. He’s been looking for the right woman since then.”

“And he’s decided on this woman?”

“He’s at least decided to try, it seems.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Oh, I’d love if he took up with Ella. She’s wonderful, as far as I can tell. I was thinking, when I met her, that she would be a breath of fresh air in the family. If Fergus dates her, then that’s just more I get to be around her, and I rather like that. I just hope she can keep up with him.”

Crowley snorted. “I was just thinking he might have trouble keeping up with her. She seems like a firebrand.”

“Yes, that’s true. From what I know about Ella, I think he might have met his match. I do hope so,” Aziraphale said, and his voice sounded like he was bent over to the mirror, making faces. “I’d love to see him find happiness.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, feeling warm. “We all deserve that.”

“Indeed we do, darling,” Aziraphale said. “And she really does seem like the nicest young woman. I wish I had thought to play matchmaker.”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t really get a chance.”

“No, that’s true.”

“And it crossed my mind, but just as a flitting thought, and more of a ‘I wish I could pay him back’ sort of way.”

“That would have been nice, yes. Darling?” Aziraphale said, his voice a little lilting.

“Yeah, angel?”

“Can you tie a bow tie?”

“Sure can,” Crowley said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing. “Come on out here and let me - ngk.”

His words were stolen out of his mouth when the bathroom door opened and Aziraphale walked out. He was wearing a traditional, bespoke tuxedo, including the jacket, which was open, and the tie was dangling loose around his neck, making him look like Tony Bennett. He was giving Crowley his bastard smile and striking a little pose. Crowley loved him so much, he thought he’d die on the spot.

He also felt his cock suddenly straining against his jeans, but mostly the lovey dovey stuff.

“Angel,” he breathed, looking Aziraphale up and down, letting his eyes feast on him.

“Yes, darling?” Aziraphale said, still grinning like a bastard. Crowley was speechless for a moment, and Aziraphale said, “Won’t you come do what you said you were going to?”

“Well here’s the thing with that, angel,” Crowley said, stepping over and putting his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, plucking the fabric there, while he ducked his head and started applying kisses to Aziraphale’s neck. “I’ve said I was going to do a lot of things to you, and some of them are more interesting to me at the moment than others. Fuck you smell good.”

Aziraphale tittered and put his hands on Crowley’s chest, but it wasn’t a pushing away, it was a caress. However, he said, “Darling, I have somewhere to be...”

“Yeah, you do. Where you need to be is with me,” Crowley said, nibbling his adam’s apple.

Aziraphale had slid his hands down to caress Crowley’s arse. “My sweet, we have obligations...”

Crowley was heedless, now sucking on Aziraphale’s earlobe. “Just a few minutes, angel. It won’t take me long. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll take you apart, I swear.”

Now Aziraphale was lightly petting Crowley’s erection through his trousers. “While I’m quite convinced of your ability to take me apart, dear, I’m afraid my family needs me...”

He was rolling his groin into Aziraphale’s hand, seeking more friction. “Fuck your family. Fuck the whole lot of them. Let me make love to you. Please.”

Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s chest and pushed him away gently, still giving him a coy smile. Crowley didn’t entirely understand and wondered if he was genuinely being shot down, but Aziraphale didn’t say anything. He just walked a few steps away, his back to Crowley and said, “Oops! Looks as if I dropped my cufflink. I suppose I’d better get it…”

Then he bent at the waist, so he was almost touching his toes, looked over his shoulder at Crowley, grinned, and wiggled his arse.

“Oh, you bastard,” Crowley breathed, right before he pounced.

Aziraphale was upright and giggling when Crowley grabbed him by the waist and dragged him onto the bed, kissing him the whole way. As soon as he had Aziraphale on his back, he went up on his knees, grabbing the loose tie and tossing it to the side, then getting to work on Aziraphale’s buttons - before he stopped. “Wait. Shit.”

“What’s wrong, darling?” Aziraphale asked, looking puzzled.

“We should… fuck. We should keep the tux clean and pressed, right?”

On anyone else, Crowley would have called Aziraphale’s smile ‘devilish’. “Look on the wardrobe door, darling.”

Crowley did, and there was a garment bag hanging there. Realization dawned. “Don’t tell me -”

“That’s my suit for the wedding. I brought this tuxedo in case there were any unexpected formal events. But this is not what I’m wearing.”

“Oh, you magnificent bastard,” he marveled, right before he attacked again.

Crowley’s hands were flying to get Aziraphale’s clothes off as quickly as he could, and Aziraphale was giggling, working to help him. Once he got the superfluous tux off and tossed into various directions, so his love was naked, he took just a moment to appreciate how stunningly gorgeous Aziraphale was. He was a dream come true, just the most beautiful man, and Crowley never wanted to see another man naked for as long as he lived.

Aziraphale was apparently unhappy lying there naked and alone, so he sat up and started pressing kisses to Crowley’s chest while he worked on getting his clothes off. Crowley jumped in to help as best he could while also showering Aziraphale with kisses, and he let out a moan when Aziraphale got his hand around his cock.

“Fucking hell, angel, your hand feels so good…”

He had finally gotten Crowley’s jeans down over his arse and around his thighs, petting him. “Let me show you how good my mouth feels,” he said, diving for Crowley’s cock.

Crowley maneuvered out his way, pushing his jeans all the way down, kicking them free. “Oh, no, angel. No, no. This is about you,” he said, just before he got to work kissing Aziraphale’s chest, pumping his love’s cock.

Aziraphale let his head rock back on the pillows, and his chest was flushed already where Crowley was kissing him. “Darling, please… I want to suck your cock…”

“Maybe some other time,” Crowley said, ringing his nipple with his tongue.

For the second time that day, without any warning, Crowley found himself flat on his back with Aziraphale hovering over him.

“Jesus fuck, angel. Are you going to throw me around every time we have sex? I’m not opposed, just trying to manage my expectations.”

Aziraphale was straddling his waist, one hand on Crowley’s chest and one hand wagging a finger. He looked stern but his eyes were sparkling.

“You listen to me, Anthony J. Crowley. Today is my birthday, and as such, I should get whatever I want.”

“Oh, we’re playing it this way now?” Crowley teased, running his hands all over Aziraphale’s smooth skin.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, leaning over to nibble and suckle on Crowley’s neck. “We’re playing it my way.”

“And what is it that you want, hmm? What can I do for the birthday boy?”

“I want to suck your cock until you’re begging me to let you come, and then I want you to fuck me.”

Crowley was grinning. “Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so,” Aziraphale said, kissing his way down Crowley’s chest.

“Then by all means, carry on, but might I make a request?”

“What’s that?”

“Sit on my face. I want to finger you and suck you while you suck me.”

Aziraphale gave him the filthiest look anyone had ever given. “If that’s what you want…” he said, turning his body around so he could straddle Crowley’s head.

Crowley was practically salivating by the time he got Aziraphale in his face, and he wasted no time before he put his mouth to work, kissing, licking, and nibbling everything he could reach, while Aziraphale started sucking his cock with gusto.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Crowley praised, reaching out blindly for the lubricant that was meant to be on the bedside table. He was pleased when he found it. “That’s it. Show me how bad you wanted to suck me.”

Aziraphale moaned when Crowley took one of his bollocks into his mouth and sucked on it, swirling his tongue around. He had both of his hands on the globes of Aziraphale’s arse, massaging, while he mouthed all over him and murmured filth.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, nipping at Aziraphale’s arse. “I could devote hours to worshiping you with my mouth. And you know what? I intend to.”

He was bobbing his head on Crowley now, making garbled noises and a terrific mess. Crowley felt his hands on his hips, urging him to thrust into his mouth, and he followed the directions - just a little. He didn’t want to overwhelm his love - and he didn’t want to come yet.

But he needed to get Aziraphale ready, if they were going to fuck. So he got the lubricant from where he’d dropped it beside his head and slicked up his fingers whileAziraphale sucked on his cock, then used the fingers to massage Aziraphale’s rim.

Aziraphale moaned around him, vibrating him, then moaned harder when Crowley eased first one finger, then two into his arse, fucking him gently.

“Is that good, sweetheart? You like when I finger you?”

Aziraphale gave a garbled ‘mhm’, and Crowley fingered him more.

“You like having me inside you?”

Another garbled ‘mhm’.

“Then it’s about time for you to let me fuck you,” Crowley said, a little breathlessly, because he was getting closer to the edge.

Aziraphale made a sound of denial and sped up, sucking harder.

Crowley ground his teeth, throwing his head back, the tendons on his neck standing out. “Angel, I’m serious. I’m getting close. You have to stop.”

He made another sound of denial and continued to make a gigantic mess of Crowley.

It took about three seconds of thought before Crowley came to a decision. “You wanna know a secret, angel?”

Aziraphale made an inquisitive sound, and Crowley struck. In a very rapid, very smooth series of motions, he withdrew his fingers and flipped Aziraphale over, so he was on his back. “I’m stronger than I look,” he said, as he pinned Aziraphale’s hands above his head.

Aziraphale looked stunned, his mouth (with full, pink lips that were swollen from sucking his cock) in a round O, his eyes wide. “My darling...”

“You have approximately seven seconds to get into whatever position you want me to fuck you in, and I’m counting. One. Two…”

He pushed Crowley off quickly, then flipped onto his front, on hands and knees, his arse to Crowley, and put his head down on the bed. “Like this.”

Crowley didn’t hesitate a moment before he grabbed the lubricant and slicked up his cock while he kissed Aziraphale’s freckled back. “You are so gorgeous, angel. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen… You’re all I want…”

Aziraphale waggled his arse a little. “Please, darling, I need you. Please…”

He raised up on his knees and lined his cock up with Aziraphale’s arsehole, pressing in slowly. Aziraphale made a noise that seemed to come from the darkest recesses of his very soul and arched his back, pushing back against Crowley to take him deeper. Crowley was moving as slowly as he could stand, until he was buried as deep as he could go, his hips pressed against Aziraphale’s arse, his body draped over Aziraphale’s. Once he was bottomed out, he went back to pressing breathy kisses to Aziraphales’ shoulders. “Are you alright?” he murmured.

Aziraphale looked over his shoulder and nodded. “I’m good. I’m so good. Please, darling, please fuck me.”

“God,” Crowley said as he followed the directions and started rocking into Aziraphale. “I have no idea what I did to get so lucky. You are the sexiest,” a little kiss, “the most beautiful,” another little kiss, “the most amazing human.” And I love you.

Aziraphale was rocking his hips back, pushing them against Crowley, fucking him. “Please, Crowley, more… your cock is so big, it’s so fat and it fills me just right… Nothing has ever felt better…”

“I agree with that,” Crowley said, speeding up a bit, gripping Aziraphale’s hips tighter and raising up. “Nothing in my life has ever felt better than making love to you. Nothing. Ever.”

His love was clutching the pillows with a white-knuckled grip, and his head was turned to the side, so Crowley could see the tortured ecstacy on his face. “Darling, please… please…”

“I like it when you beg, sweetheart,” Crowley said, a little labored. He was enchanted by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of his love’s arse. “Fucking hell, you’re so beautiful.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whined. “Crowley, darling…”

Crowley decided that there wasn’t enough skin touching for his taste, so he grabbed Aziraphale under the armpits and pulled him upright, so he was standing on his knees, still fucking into him. Aziraphale leaned his head back on Crowley’s shoulder, and Crowley started mouthing his neck at the same time he reached around and took his cock into his hand, pumping him at the same speed he was fucking him.

“This is mine, isn’t it? This cock, this arse… it’s mine. No one else can have you. Can they?”

“No!” Aziraphale cried, one hand clutching Crowley’s arm around his chest, the other fisted in his hair. “No one can have me! I’m yours! I’m all yours forever!”

Crowley felt himself scooting closer to the edge and sped up both his hips and his hands. “Forever is a long time, angel, and they say nothing lasts forever.”

“That’s a lie!” Aziraphale cried. “Oh, God, Crowley, right there! Yes! Yes! Ah! Ah!”

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Crowley crooned as best he could, while he was mouthing his neck and fucking him. “Are you gonna come for me? I want you to.”

“Crowley! Crowley! Ah! Ah!” he shouted, then his whole body went tense, and Crowley got the satisfying sensation of Aziraphale’s semen erupting all over his hand.

Aziraphale was delightfully noisy in his orgasm, and it drove Crowley higher. He continued to stroke him and fuck him, doing everything he could to extend Aziraphale’s release, until Aziraphale seemed to be spent.

“Do you need me to stop?” Crowley asked, willing to do whatever Aziraphale asked but frantically hoping he wouldn’t ask him to stop.

Aziraphale shook his head, out of breath. “No, darling. I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me.” Crowley obliged, pummeling him with his teeth bared. Aziraphale’s hands were like claws on him and drove him higher. “Ah! Yes! Like that! Oooh, darling…I want you to fuck me and stake your claim on me. I want you to come in my arse, fill me absolutely full of your come, so while I’m standing at the front of that crowd, I feel you trickling out of me…”

“Oh, fuck,” Crowley managed, right before his brain and cock both exploded. He came and came seemingly for what felt like hours, his body turning inside out with pleasure, while he made inarticulate sounds and clutched Aziraphale like a lifeline. Aziraphale murmured soothing nonsense, thanking him and praising him, telling him how wonderful he was and scratching his nails lightly on Crowley’s scalp. Crowley shuddered with aftershocks until he was limp against Aziraphale’s body. He had no idea how they were still upright, and he didn’t have the brain cells to devote to that question at the moment.

Very soon, though, he and Aziraphale had eased themselves down onto the bed, and within seconds they were wrapped up in each other’s arms. Crowley couldn’t help but nuzzling him, and delighted when Aziraphale cuddled into him. God, he loved this man.

“Mmm, how was that, darling?”

Crowley kissed the side of his head. “Angel, that was hands down the most amazing sexual experience I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, come now, I’m not that good in bed…”

“Whoever told you that was a damned liar. But I’m glad they have a shit opinion. Otherwise, they might have tried to keep you, and then I wouldn’t have you.”

“You do have me, darling,” Aziraphale said, rubbing his hands on a circle on Crowley’s chest, then looking up at him with soft eyes. “I’m absolutely mad about you. And I meant what I said. I’m yours, for as long as you want me.”

Crowley nearly melted through the floor. “I’m yours, too, sweetheart. Body and soul. I don’t think there are adequate words to describe how crazy I am about you.”

“Well, I can tell you that words are my specialty, and I don’t think I’ve ever come across any that were appropriate for the way I feel about you.”

“Good to know,” Crowley said, grinning, then kissed him lightly. “Now, I have two serious questions.”

“Ask away, my darling.”

“My first question is: How long does it take for you get dressed? How much time do we have?”

Aziraphale raised his head and looked over at the clock. “I am supposed to be available for photos in about forty-five minutes, and it takes me about ten minutes or so to get dressed.”

“So we have about thirty minutes to hold each other?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Good,” Crowley said, snuggling him closer. “I want to take every minute with you I can get.”

Aziraphale giggled and rubbed his hand over Crowley’s chest again. “What was your other question, love?”

He felt a thrill at that ‘love’. “I was wondering if you intend to throw me around every time we have sex, or if you’re ever going to let me make love to you all slow, gentle, and romantic.”

His answer was an impish grin. “Is that what you want?”

“Well, yes and no. I’m happy to make love to you any way you want me to, and I have no problem with you throwing me around. It’s honestly sexy as hell. But I was thinking that slow and worshipful might be fun.”

“Make you a deal,” Aziraphale said.

“What’s that?”

“We can do slow and worshipful tonight - if you promise to let me worship you.”

“Hey now,” Crowley protested with a grin. “It’s your birthday….”

“Exactly,” Aziraphale said serenely. “And what I want is to make you fall apart. Will you let me?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you do anything you want to me. I’m a slave for you, I hope you know that.”

“That feeling is entirely mutual,” Aziraphale said with a grin, just before he kissed Crowley.

Crowley’s heart shot across the sky like a shooting star.

Chapter Text

The dressing room - if that’s what it was called - that Gabriel and his three groomsmen had been given to wait in before the wedding started was very nice, but Aziraphale would expect any room associated with the Eastgates to be nice. It was very elaborately decorated, and equipped with a couch, a couple of chairs, and, of course, a mirror. There was plenty of room to spread out, which Aziraphale appreciated , because he didn’t particularly want to spend a lot of time in close quarters with Gabriel and his brother’s two best friends. There were a couple of very nice plants, which Aziraphale smiled at, thinking of Crowley. And by all rights, it should have been a very comfortable, pleasant room. But to quote Fergus, the vibes were rancid.

At the moment, Gabriel’s two best friends were sitting together on the couch, involved in some discussion that they apparently didn’t care to share with anyone else. It was just as well to Aziraphale - he didn’t particularly want to talk to them, anyway.

But he was concerned about his brother. Gabriel was standing by the window, looking out onto the church’s graveyard which the snow had blanketed, and the look on his face was difficult to describe. There was a sadness to him, a defeatedness, and he looked very much like a man who was about to be led to the hangman’s noose.

Aziraphale’s heart broke for him. For all his faults, for all his bad traits, Gabriel was his brother. And even if he wasn’t his brother, Aziraphale would still want to help someone who was in such obvious distress. He debated for a few minutes about whether he should do it, whether he should go over and talk to him, and when Gabriel gave a sorry sigh, Aziraphale squared his shoulders, going over there to do his best.

“Pardon me, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said.

Gabriel turned to look at him, and his violet eyes were nearly haunted. It stiffened Aziraphale’s resolve.

“Listen, I know that you and I haven’t been close, historically, and I know we’re still not close. But I do love you, and I want what’s best for you. As such, I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I do,” Gabriel said. “Everything’s paid for, the people are all here, it’s all but a done deal.”

“It’s not a done deal until you say the vows and the papers are signed. Until that moment, there is still time to back out. And, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, I really think you should.”

Gabriel sighed. “You don’t like Michael.”

“No, that’s not it. She’s lovely.” Gabriel gave him a look and he amended. “Well, I may have misspoken. I’m sure she is lovely, once you spend a little time with her.”

“She’s not,” Gabriel muttered.

Aziraphale wasn’t about to defend a woman that he couldn’t stand, so he waved that to the side. “At any rate, I don’t think you should go through with this.”

“I have to.”

“But you don’t,” Aziraphale insisted. “Gabriel, if I have learned anything in my life, it’s that everyone has to be true to themselves. And you are not being true to yourself by marrying Michael.” Gabriel looked away, and Aziraphale plowed on. “When you get married, it should be because the sound of the other person’s voice makes you light up inside. It should be because you want to wake up beside them every morning. Because the touch of their hand soothes you more than anything else ever could. Because when they smile, your heart smiles, too. It should not be because you feel obligated.”

Gabriel shook his head sadly, and Aziraphale stepped closer. “Listen to me. You can’t possibly know how it pains me to say this, but if you want out, I will get you out. If your heart is telling you not to do this - and I believe it is - I will come up with some kind of plan to rescue you. You do not have to do this. I will help you if you want me to.”

He looked at Aziraphale with hope in his eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile. “You’d really do that?”

Aziraphale was thrilled that he’d apparently made progress. “I’d be honored. Isn’t that what a good brother would do?” he said with a smile.

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, and Aziraphale thought for one shining moment that maybe he’d done it, maybe he’d saved his brother from a lifetime of misery, when he saw Gabriel look over his shoulder and his face fall. Aziraphale didn’t have to turn around to know what he saw, but he did anyway.

Derek was coming in, dressed to the nines, accompanied by a grizzled old vicar who frankly looked very unkempt. He was talking to Derek in a Scottish accent that didn’t sound entirely real.

“Have to tell you, Mr. Eastgate, that I’ve not been this excited to do a wedding in a fair few years.”

“Yes, well, it must be a great honor for you to officiate a wedding for the gentry, Rev. Shadwell,” Derek said in a voice of strained politeness.

“Nae, that’s not it. It’s just that most couples I marry are poor as church mice, so I’m barely scraping by, you see.” Rev. Shadwell patted his pockets, apparently under his vestments. “Speaking of which, I haven’t received payment for this wedding as of yet, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“You’ll get your money.”

“Aye, we signed a contract, after all.” He leaned a little closer. “But it’s customary to give a wee tip to your officiant.”

“I’ve never heard of such,” Derek huffed.

“It’s quite a common phenomenoneon.”

Aziraphale turned away from his father and the vicar bickering and said in a very, very low voice to Gabriel, “It’s not too late. We can make an excuse and run away. I’ll be happy to help you.”

Gabriel was giving him a look that was on the verge of pleading, and Aziraphale hoped with his whole heart that he would take him up on it. He was already planning on texting Crowley to ask him to bring the car as fast as he could -

His thoughts were broken when Derek turned to them. “Gabriel, is there something you need to tell me?”

Aziraphale watched him intently, wondering what he was going to say, how he’d deflect, what he could possibly say… and Gabriel looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Aziraphale had never seen his brother look frightened, but he did now.

Derek spoke again, his eyes - and his voice - flinty. “You aren’t having second thoughts, are you, Gabriel?”

Aziraphale saw the exact moment the shutters fell on Gabriel’s eyes, and he was lost to Aziraphale. “Of course not, Father,” he said. Then he added, snidely, “No thanks to Aziraphale.”

His father gave him a look that would have killed anyone who wasn’t accustomed to earning that look, then turned to Gabriel, dismissing Aziraphale. He put his hand on Gabriel’s arm in what would have been comforting from any other parent, but was simply patronizing in this case.

“Don’t let your brother get in your head, son,” Derek said with what probably passed for warmth from a man with a soul. “Cold feet happen to every groom. Nobody goes into their wedding truly wanting to go through with it. This is a rite of passage!”

Aziraphale wanted very much to argue with that line of thinking, but he knew better. Not only would it land him in even more trouble than he was in, it would be completely futile. But he couldn’t imagine going into a marriage and not wanting to join his life with the other person’s. That wasn’t what marriage was meant to be.

“Come on, son,” Derek said, leading Gabriel towards the door. “It’s time for you to go marry that lovely young woman, and make her the happiest girl on earth.”

Aziraphale tried to cover his scoff with a cough, but it apparently didn’t fool Derek or Gabriel, who turned to glare at him. “I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the duration of this wedding, and if you think you can’t, you are welcome to walk out the door right now.”

“I’m not leaving,” Aziraphale said, although he was tempted. He wanted to be able to get Gabriel out in case he changed his mind.

Derek and Rev. Shadwell led Gabriel into the front of the church, with Aziraphale and the other two groomsmen following behind. All of them took their places at the front of the church and smiled for photos, but Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s eyes on him. He had always heard people say that, and assumed it would be a creepy feeling, but this wasn’t creepy at all. He felt Crowley’s eyes like a caress. And as soon as he was able to divert his attention from his duties, he stood at the front of the church and searched the (rather large) crowd for his love.

It didn’t take him long to find his boyfriend. He was sitting about eight rows back, on the groom’s side, and he was smiling at Aziraphale like no sight had ever made him happier. As soon as Aziraphale’s eyes landed on him, he felt himself light up, and suddenly, it was like they were the only two people in the world. He was just so… so beautiful, so charming, so wonderful. While Aziraphale was standing there, looking at him like the besotted fool he was, he noticed Crowley lean over to his right and speak to the person sitting next to him, never taking his eyes off Aziraphale. Aziraphale was surprised when he realized the person Crowley was talking to was Fergus - he had entirely missed his best friend in the crowd. Well, that was a lie. He’d missed his best friend because he only had eyes for Crowley.

While he watched, Crowley murmured something else to Fergus, who rolled his eyes and grinned. Aziraphale was absolutely certain that Crowley had just said something about him, and he was equally certain that whatever he’d said had been lovely and glowing. It made his heart burst into brilliant rainbows, just thinking about it, and he loved Crowley so much he thought he’d explode, right there at the front of the church.

He did notice, though, after a minute, that quite a lot of people looked concerned. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, until he saw Gabriel’s face. He was standing at the end of the aisle with his hands clasped in front of him, his feet shoulder width apart, and that was all fine - but he again looked very much like a man who was about to be executed. There was no hint of a smile on his face, and he almost looked to be on the verge of tears. Aziraphale was given to understand that some men cried on their wedding day, but these were not even close to being tears of joy. He looked condemned.

Gabriel kept that stony face while the attendants walked in, and Aziraphale couldn’t stand looking at him any longer. He turned his head to look at Crowley, who was still looking at him, still smiling. Just as he had before, Aziraphale’s whole face lit up when he saw Crowley, and he maintained that smile until he scanned the crowd quickly and his eyes landed on his parents, who were glowering at him. Just to be a bastard, Aziraphale gave them a sunny smile and a tiny wiggle. Both of them intensified their glare, then they turned to look at Gabriel - and smiled.

The music changed, and the doors at the back of the church opened. Everyone in their seats stood up, and all heads turned to look at the bride as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. The Earl looked pleased as punch - his cheeks were ruddy and his smile was brilliant. And Michael looked absolutely beautiful. Her gown was stunning, her hair was done up elegantly, and she really would have been an absolutely beautiful bride - except for her face. She looked dour, as if she had never been more miserable in her life - like she was trying to murder every single person in the room with her mind alone. Aziraphale cast a look at Gabriel to see that the muscles in his jaw were working, and he was clutching his own hands so tightly, his knuckles were white.

The entire crowd looked horrified as they looked back and forth between Michael and Gabriel. Aziraphale was put in mind of people who were forced to watch some sort of violent crime being commited. Everyone looked shocked, and appalled, and some looked terrified.

The exception were the parents of the bride and groom, who looked terribly pleased with the situation at hand. Aziraphale hated them all in that moment, for doing this to his brother. His brother was an arsehole, but he didn’t deserve this. This was a life sentence, and Aziraphale very much wanted to stop it. But he was fairly sure that his parents would put a contract on him if he did so. He was forced to stand there and watch this train wreck happen in slow motion.

There was one other person in the crowd who was smiling - just one other person. Crowley was still smiling brilliantly, looking at Aziraphale, and he wondered for a moment how Crowley could smile while this was happening, how he could look so brilliantly happy when this tragedy was occuring. Then it hit him - Crowley hadn’t seen the looks on anyone else’s faces. He was focused solely on Aziraphale, didn’t seem to want to look away, and Aziraphale nearly melted into the floor.

He realized suddenly this was the feeling he’d been describing to Gabriel as the way it should be. This was the way things were supposed to feel when you committed your life to someone. He’d been able to accurately describe it to his brother because he felt that way. And oh, God, it felt like a miracle.

He couldn’t help, though, but to think that knowing this about how he felt, knowing that he was in that type of love with Crowley, was going to make it much more difficult to do what Fergus had counseled him to do. Now that he knew he felt this way, he didn’t know if he even wanted to follow Fergus’ advice. Which was likely to annoy his best friend.

The feel of Crowley’s skin under his hands sprung to his mind, and the taste of Crowley’s lips. Of his cock. The feel of Crowley sliding into him, making love, making him see stars filled his brain, and he decided that it was probably worth it to make Fergus temporarily angry, if it meant that he got the kind of joy he was feeling with Crowley for the rest of his life.

At the front of the church, Gabriel and Michael were facing each other with their heads turned towards Rev. Shadwell, who was speaking.

“Together, you will fight darkness in all ways. From avoiding the stains of a guilty heart, to a being harbor for each other in the trying days ahead - and oh, let me just tell you, there are trying days in every marriage.” Gabriel looked pale. “Sometimes our lives are attacked by the forces of evil - witches, if you will. You will likely spend a great deal of time thwarting witches in all ways. Avoid the occult and cleave to each other. Give your cats good Christian names, and make sure they don’t fall in with a bad crowd—cats with funny names are nearly always a gateway to witches. With your spouse by your side…”

Aziraphale knew it wasn’t funny, but it was funny, and he had to bring his fist to his mouth to stifle his laugh. One thing was for sure, though - he wouldn’t be hiring Rev. Shadwell to do his own ceremony, if (when) that day came.

“You should also strive to be financially generous. God doesn’t like stingy, and let that be a lesson to you. You should give of your bounty at every opportunity, say when an old man consents to perform a ceremony, although I’m sure the food will be quite lovely. I believe I heard something about lobster?”

Derek cleared his throat pointedly, and Rev. Shadwell seemed to snap back into it.

“Ah, yes. Do you have the rings?”

Aziraphale looked on pityingly while Gabriel made life-long vows to a woman he hated, and the woman who apparently hated him made the same vows. They slipped a ring onto each other’s fingers, then when Rev. Shadwell pronounced them man and wife, they shared the most chaste, passionless kiss anyone had ever shared.

The crowd clapped, just as all crowds do at a wedding, but it was listless and perfunctory. The only joy in the room came from the parents, and it made Aziraphale sick.

He’d had enough of this situation. He’d tried to help and hadn’t been able to, now the deed was done. Gabriel was trapped for the rest of his life, but Aziraphale told himself that he’d tried. He’d made a genuine effort to save his brother from this fate, but he hadn’t been successful - and it had been Gabriel’s own choice. Aziraphale could rest easy knowing that he’d done everything he could.

Out in the crowd, Crowley was leaned over, talking to Fergus, and Aziraphale was disappointed, because he very much would have liked a smile of encouragement right then. To be honest, he wanted to speak to Crowley, to be near him, to soak up the comfort that Crowley brought him, just by being close. And it pained him that he wouldn’t be able to be with him for the next hour. He’d have to resign himself to waiting, he supposed.

When the attendants began to exit the church, two at a time, Aziraphale was paired with Muriel. She put her arm through his, and he led her down the aisle, smiling at people - and hoping to catch a glimpse of Crowley. Crowley had changed places with Fergus, so he was on the aisle, and Aziraphale wanted to reach out and touch him, but couldn’t. He took comfort in Crowley’s smile and wink, and Aziraphale winked back.

He didn’t miss his parents staring daggers at him.

The bridal party formed the receiving line in the back of the church, and Aziraphale got into line, as he was supposed to, right next to Muriel. He greeted everyone who came by, shaking many hands, wishing it would be over so he could go be with Crowley. He was delighted when he spotted Fergus two people away, and right next to him was Crowley.

Aziraphale hugged Fergus, which was their standard greeting, and accepted a pat on the shoulder. “We’ll have a scotch ready for you,” Fergus said quietly.

“Make it a double,” Aziraphale shot back, and Fergus smiled.

Then Crowley was standing in front of him, looking so exceptionally gorgeous in his black suit with the red tie, and Aziraphale just loved him so much… he didn’t know what to say, but Crowley took care of that for him by leaning over and kissing his cheek, then murmuring. “I was right. You are the most beautiful one by leaps and bounds.”

Crowley kissed his cheek again and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, then moved down the line while Aziraphale tried very hard not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

Chapter Text

Crowley had come to the reception, intending to hang around with Fergus (and possibly Newt), to kill the time until Aziraphale would be able to join him. He hadn’t counted on Fergus being pulled in a bunch of different directions by people who wanted a little piece of his time, however. So, ever the intrepid one, he set out to entertain himself some other way. He inspected the cake and the gifts table and the various decorations - and then he found some mischief to make.

The tables, like the tables at many weddings, were marked with place cards, and people were finding their spots. It didn’t escape Crowley’s notice that the Eastgates had seated him at the complete opposite side of the room from Aziraphale, with a bunch of people he didn’t know. That absolutely would not stand, so he busied himself rearranging place cards, gathering all of the people he liked at one table and giving virtually no regard to anyone else’s card he was moving around. This, he figured, was a perfect way to sow a little minor chaos - and, most importantly, retain plausible deniability. He didn’t want to make trouble for Aziraphale, but he did want to make trouble for the Eastgates. He had a feeling that would be a joyous pursuit for him for the next several years. God willing, longer than that.

He spotted Fergus coming over just as he was putting the finishing touches on the cool people’s table, deciding it was a job well done. As soon as Fergus was close enough, he grinned at him. “If anyone asks, I was with you.”

Fergus was also grinning when he said, “Oh, lord, what have you done?”

“Nothing you won’t appreciate,” he said. “Come on, let’s go take advantage of the open bar.”

They walked over towards the bar, and Fergus nodded to a few people who spoke to him, until they got there to order drinks.

“I’d like to order one for my angel,” he said. “But I don’t know how long it’ll be before he’s done with the shit he has to do.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda anxious for them to be done, too.”

Crowley gave him a knowing grin. “Yeah, I’m sure you are, but it doesn’t have anything to do with Aziraphale.”

“Oi,” Fergus protested. “That’s my best mate you’re talking about. I’m closer to him than most of my family.”

“I know that, but you’ve also got the hots for one of the bridesmaids.”

“Wisearse,” Fergus muttered, taking a sip, and Crowley chortled. “So I hear you’re giving the Eastgates hell.”

“Absolutely,” Crowley said. “The way they treat him? I’ve been as awful and obnoxious to them as possible.”

“And yet you still managed to catch my best mate.”

Crowley grinned. “I’m not awful to him. I’m my authentic self with him. But seriously, I wasn’t prepared for the way they treat him. And it pissed me the fuck off within about two minutes of walking in the door.”

“Worse than the usual?”

“I don’t know what the usual is, but just in the first few minutes, they called him fat and made a couple of snide allusions to being gay. All of which rolled off of Aziraphale’s back, so I assume he’s quite used to the bullshit.”

“He is,” Fergus confirmed. “They’re never quite as bad when I’m around, because they think I’m, I don’t know. Special or something. But yeah, some of the things he’s told me have been horrendous.”

“Horrendous is right. And it’s that kind of passive-aggressive bullshit that I really hate. But his parents have been nothing but dismissive. ‘We gave away the second room, you'll have to share, but don't do anything God wouldn't approve of!' and 'are you sure you want that piece of cake?' and 'of course we accept you, we'll just try to change everything about you.' It’s fucking ridiculous. And then - you’ll like this - his mother tried multiple times to set him up with Ella.”

“With Ella!”

“Yep. And she did it right in front of me, while I had my arm around him. Wasn’t even subtle about it.”

Fergus was laughing into his drink. “Well that was a doomed effort, but you have to give them points for chutzpah.”

“I don’t have to give them points for anything,” Crowley countered. “I just have to give them hell. They could have been any kind of way to me and I’d have just taken it. But I can’t fucking tolerate the way they talk to him. Did I tell you what his father did? No, I don’t suppose I have. I haven’t had time.”

“What did that tosser do? There’s honestly no telling.”

“So the other day when I was on the phone with you and had to get off, it was because I heard someone coming. I went to investigate, and it was the butler, followed quickly by Derek. And that rat bastard tried to bribe me into leaving Aziraphale here alone.”

Fergus raised a brow. “You’re kidding? More than Aziraphale bribed you to be here?”

“I’m not taking that money and you know it. I’m here because I want to be here. But he started with ten thousand pounds. It was honestly the worst insult I’ve ever even heard of.”

“Wait, so all his son is worth is ten thousand quid?”

“Well, he did increase his offer over the next couple of minutes. But yeah, he started with ten grand and kept going up until he got to fifty grand and I told him to fuck off. There is no amount of money that could get me to leave him, and the fact that he thought that amazing, beautiful, wonderful creature - who is his own flesh and blood - is only worth fifty thousand pounds… I’ve never been so insulted.”

“That’s what pissed you off? Not that he tried to buy you?”

“No, because I would honestly expect a rich ponce to look down on me. You forget what I do for a living - rich ponces look down on me every day. But for him to treat Aziraphale that way…” Crowley growled a little, irritated with the subject.

Fergus was giving him a sizing-up smile. “You really are crazy about him, aren’t you?”

Crowley grinned at him. “Fergus, mate, I’m in love.”

One strawberry blond eyebrow raised. “You are, are you?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the P. “You setting the two of us up was the best thing that ever happened to me. I can never repay you.”

"You can start by forgetting I ever thought you were straight."

Crowley laughed, full and loud. "Anything but that, mate, that's too funny. I’m never letting that one die."

“Git,” Fergus said. “In seriousness, though…”

He gave a grin. “Oh hell. Is this if you hurt him I’ll kill you talk? Because you already told me that.”

“Not exactly, although I want to reiterate that I will do it without blinking and no one will ever find your body.”

“Well you never have to worry about following through. He is one hundred percent safe with me and will be for as long as he consents to stay with me. Honestly, Ferg, I’m so excited about the future right now -“

“And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Fergus said. “I’m going to lay it out for you the same way I did him. First, I am overwhelmingly happy about this. Az is beyond wonderful and has been longing for a good man. I think you fit the bill.”

He preened. “Thank you.”

“But I don’t want either of you to dive in headfirst. I want you both to take your time.”

Crowley grinned wickedly. "If you're telling me to take it slow, we already broke the bed."

"Not that. Shag each other all you want. Sleep over. I'm just asking you to take some time before you do something that's going to be really hard to step back from. Don't go straight to moving in together, or making, erm, legal arrangements."

“Fergus, man, I have to tell you that that’s going to be difficult. With the way I feel about him - I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life.”

“And that’s fine. Great. Perfect. I am so unbelievably happy about that fact. I’m not asking you to feel any different than you do. What I’m asking you to do is take your time and make absolutely sure you’re going to feel like that for a long, long time before you do something permanent. Wait a few months, or a year. If you’re still this crazy about him next year this time, make a move. But it’ll be better if you wait and make absolutely certain that this isn’t an infatuation.” Crowley made to protest that it was not at all an infatuation, and Fergus held up a hand. “It’ll be better for him. Think about it this way - you don’t want to hurt him, right?”

“That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Okay, then think about what will happen if you two move in together in two weeks and sell one of your flats or whatever, and then run off to Gretna Green or some shit - and then in six months, you wake up and wonder what the hell you’re doing?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Mate, it happens all the time. Footballers are notorious for it. They fall in love with some bird and move her into their pad within a few weeks, some of them marry them, and then all of the sudden, a few months later, they’re drinking at the pub every night, trying to think of ways to get rid of the girlfriend.”

“I say again, that is absolutely not going to happen. Not with me and him.”

“If you want the honest truth, I think you’re right. He’s been my best friend in the world for seventeen years, so I’ve seen him date around a bit. He’s never, ever been like this. I think you’re good for him, and I think he’s good for you. But I’m asking you as a personal favor not to make any drastic decisions for a while. Okay?”

Crowley wasn’t especially happy about this advice, but at the same time, he knew it was right. He didn’t think that there was any chance he would fall out of love with Aziraphale anytime soon - or ever - but he acknowledged that he would be taking a risk by moving too fast.

So he sighed. “I don’t disagree with you. And I would probably be giving the same advice to anyone I knew in my shoes. But I’m absolutely going to talk to him about it. I’m not going to make any kind of unilateral decisions. That’s not the kind of relationship I want with him.”

“Good,” Fergus said. “I like hearing that.”

“Yeah, I just bet you do.”

Fergus was looking around the reception, ignoring Crowley for a moment. “Have they come out yet?”

Crowley also looked around. “Doesn’t appear so, no.”

“Good, then I have a second to ask you this,” Fergus said, withdrawing his phone and pulling up a screen. “Pronounce this, please.”

“Medulla oblongata,” Crowley said with a smile.

“Medulla oblongata,” Fergus repeated, then pocketed his phone. “Got it. Thanks, mate.” He looked around again. “How long does it take to take some bloody photos?”

“With this lot? There’s no telling. So you’re making a play for Ella, huh?”

“I intend to, at least the start of one. I’d like to get to know her better.”

Crowley grinned. “That’s where I come in. You’re now sitting together whenever they get here.”

Fergus’ eyes were dancing. “You didn’t.”

“Bet your arse I did. They weren’t even going to let me sit with my angel. So I did you a solid. You’ve got her on one side and Aziraphale on the other.”

“Crowley, man, you’re a fucking saint.”

He snorted. “Says you.”

“How do I look?” Fergus asked, adjusting his jacket.

“You look fantastic. But you don’t need to make a big deal, she really likes you.”

“That’s the most exciting news I believe I’ve ever gotten,” Fergus said. “But I’m worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“What if her parents think I’m not good enough for her?”

Crowley gave him a grin. “Aziraphale’s parents hate me and everything I stand for with a burning passion, and we’re doing fine.”

“Yes, but Ella might not be Az. It might matter to her what her parents think.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be much of a problem. For one thing, Ella doesn’t seem to mind bucking her family. Especially her mother. Second, they were willing to marry Michael off to Gabriel, so I think their standards can’t be too bad. But at any rate, the Earl seems remarkably chill, to be a peer.”

Fergus looked a little anxious, still looking around the room. “Let me ask you a question, if I can.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Just how gay are you?” Crowley was deeply amused for a minute until he went on. “I mean, do you know anything about women?”

“I’ve dated a fair few of them in my time.”

Fergus looked at him disbelievingly, then shook his head. “Damn, man. I really just don’t know you at all.”

“Nah,” he said, accepting another drink. “You know all the important stuff.”

“I had no idea you were queer.”

Crowley shrugged. “It wasn’t important in context.”

“Yeah, but I could have introduced you to Aziraphale ages ago.”

“That’s crossed my mind,” Crowley agreed. “And not letting you know in some way might have been a tactical error on my part - although I didn’t deliberately keep it from you. But I had no way of knowing that your best friend was a literal angel that I was going to fall head over heels in love with within days. And we have decades ahead of us, he and I. I’m a little sad about the lost time, but I’m not unhappy with the way things happened. Honestly, would you really just have introduced us at a party or something and hoped we hit it off?”

“I truly don’t know,” Fergus said. “I’m somewhat protective of him, and tend to think nobody on earth is good enough for him.”

Crowley grinned. “You sound like his parents.”

“Oi, you take that back.”

“Wanting the best for someone you love is not a bad thing. It’s how you go about it that matters. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re the good kind of protective. Now you’re not alone in your protectiveness of Aziraphale, because I’m right there with you.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Crowley heard the sweetest voice in the world say from behind him at the same moment a pair of hands slid around his waist. He turned a little to find Aziraphale circling around, until he was standing beside him smiling, and Crowley felt his entire body light up with joy.

“Hiya, angel.”

“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale said, turning his lips up for a kiss. Crowley was happy to give it.

“And you brought Miss Ella,” Fergus said, putting on the smile that Crowley now knew was known as the knickerburner. He took her hand and bent over it to kiss it. “Seeing you makes my frontal lobe light up like a Christmas tree.”

Crowley and Aziraphale snorted to themselves. Ella looked charmed - but a little wicked. “You should probably have that looked at,” she teased with a bright smile.

Aziraphale nudged Crowley. “Really, darling? You let him lead with that?”

“In my defense, I had no idea he was going to lead with that. I’d have intervened.”

Fergus was cutting his eyes at him. “If you two don’t mind...”

“We don’t mind at all,” Aziraphale said cheerfully, his arm still around Crowley’s waist.

“Anything we can do to help,” Crowley chimed in.

Fergus rolled his eyes and turned back to Ella. “I was hoping to get to speak to you again.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Crowley said. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“That’s true, dear. Ella is wonderful, she deserves your best chat up lines.”

Ella looked deeply, deeply amused.

“I suppose you two think you could do better?” Fergus huffed, but not with any genuine irritation.

Crowley’s ‘yep’ stepped all over Aziraphale’s ‘of course’.

“My dear, I’m a gay bookseller in Soho who has a penchant for romance novels. I could woo rings around you without thinking about it at all.”

“It’s not a competition,” Fergus said.

“Yeah, and I’d personally appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to woo Ella,” Crowley added, grinning.

Aziraphale put on a mock surprised look. “You would? Oh, but it would make my mother so happy!”

Ella laughed. “It wouldn’t upset my mother, either. But I’m not at all displeased to have you flirting with me, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

Fergus looked like he was about to burst into light. “It’s Fergus. Actually, my name is Graham, but…”

“Which would you prefer?”

“I’ll answer to anything you call me,” Fergus promised.

“Laying it on a bit thick, dear,” Aziraphale advised, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ella said, although she was blushing madly. “I think he’s laying it on just right.” Fergus looked like he was about to fly to the moon. “I’m hoping to get to speak with you at some point after dinner.”

“That’s not necessary,” Crowley said proudly. “You guys will be plenty close enough to talk during dinner.”

Ella looked confused. “But I thought I was going to sit with my mother?”

“Are you disappointed you’re not?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and quirked grin.

“Oh, God, no,” she said. “I’m entirely grateful.”

“Then you have Crowley to thank,” Fergus said.

“Yup,” Crowley said proudly.

“And I helped,” Fergus added when Ella gave Crowley a grateful look, making Ella turn her eyes to him admiringly. He seemed to preen under her gaze.

“Wait just a minute,” Aziraphale said, playfully testy. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“With me, sweetheart,” Crowley said, squeezing his waist, then kissing the side of his head. “Want you close to me.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Crowley said. “Always want you close to me.”

Aziraphale gave him the softest, sweetest look, and Crowley just loved him so fucking much…

“Maybe we could go find our seats?” Ella asked leadingly. “I hate to be a bother, but these heels are killing me, and I’d like to kick them off under the table, if I could.”

“Allow me to show you to our table then,” Crowley said, then led the four of them over to the table he’d selected for them.

Chapter Text

Crowley was quite pleased with the way he’d seated the table. He had everyone all partnered up but Muriel, who seemed very happy to be sitting next to Ella. Everyone seemed pleased with where they were sitting, and he couldn’t help but be proud of himself.

On the other side of Aziraphale, Fergus was chatting up Ella, and as far as Crowley could tell, was doing a decent job of it. Ella seemed charmed, at any rate. Anathema and Newt had joined them, and they’d all tucked into their meals.

The only complaint that Crowley had, really, was that Aziraphale was still just a skosh too far away from him. So he scooted over a couple of inches. He was thrilled when Aziraphale smiled warmly at him.

“I want to thank both of you again,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley asked, “Who?” at the same time Fergus asked, “For what?”

“For getting me here, and away from the top table.”

“Hear, hear!” Muriel said, raising her glass.

“We’ll have to go up there for toasts,” Ella said reasonably.

“Yes, we will, but I’m glad I don’t have to spend the entire meal with them. To be honest, they’re probably glad about it, too. They don’t want me around any more than I want to be there.”

“Well, to look at them up there, it appears as if they don’t want anyone around them,” Crowley said.

“Yeah, they’re all looking really sour,” Anathema added. “More sour than usual.”

“That wedding…” Fergus said, then gave a low whistle. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Gabriel looks like he’s facing the torments of the damned, and I suspect if I knew her better, Michael would look the same,” Muriel observed.

“She does,” Ella volunteered. “She always looks sour, but she’s especially unhappy today. There is zero joy on her face.”

“I tried to help,” Aziraphale said, a little quiet. “I tried to save him. I told him he could walk away - and I offered to smuggle him out of the building myself. I was prepared to text Crowley and tell him to bring the car around. But then Father came in, and he just… it was like the light went out of his eyes in that moment.”

Crowley couldn’t express the depth of emotion he felt for this man. Aziraphale had tried to save the brother that had been torturing him for his entire life, even knowing that it would land him in tremendous trouble with his family….

“My God,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale looked at him curiously. “What, darling?”

“You really are an angel, aren’t you? To try and save him...”

“Well, yes. He is awful, but whatever else he is, he’s my family...”

Anathema spoke before Crowley could kiss him. “I’m impressed that you tried, honestly. Although, really, if I’d thought he’d go for it, I’d have packed him into the back of Dick Turpin.”

The entire table, save Newt, looked at her as if she was daft. “Pack him into the what now?”

Newt’s face was beet red. “That’s my car.”

“You named your car Dick Turpin?” Crowley asked.

“Yes. It’s a Reliant Robin.”

“Well, now, dear, you named your car ‘Mary’, didn’t you?” Aziraphale pointed out.

“Yeah, I did. And I know tons of people who have named their car. But Dick Turpin is a bit of an unusual name.”

“Ask him why he named it that,” Anathema said.

“Yes, why did you name it that?” Ella asked.

Newt’s face was still scarlet. “Because it’s always holding up traffic.”

There was laughter at the table, including from Crowley, and Newt looked proud. When the laughter died down a little, Aziraphale spoke up. “Well, Ana, dear, as your older cousin -”

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “By two years.”

Aziraphale went on, undaunted. “It’s my duty to look after you. And I’m afraid that I’m going to need you to work on his jokes before you marry him.”

Newt choked a little, and Anathema was grinning at him with a gleam in her eye. “We never said we were getting married.”

“You made a big deal about how people in this family get married quickly not two days ago,” Muriel reminded her.

“Yes, but I’m always breaking the rules. I think he and I are going to live in sin for a while. If for no other reason, just to get people’s noses out of joint.”

Crowley was chuckling into his drink, and Aziraphale gave her a mock-stern look.

“Personally,” Fergus spoke up, “I think you need to hang on to that man as long as you can, and don’t let go.”

“I intend to, but why do you say so?”

“Because he came with you and met this family, and he hasn’t run screaming. My advice is to hang on tight. You are clearly made for each other.”

Crowley was oddly heartened by that, although he knew Fergus hadn’t been talking about him. He felt like it still applied.

“Of course we are,” Anathema said, smiling. “We’re soulmates,” she added, with a squeeze to Newt’s hand.

Fergus spoke again. “So, Muriel, you’re in your third year of uni, is that right?”

“I am, yes,” she said brightly.

“How are things going?” Aziraphale asked. “I haven’t been able to talk to you very much, I’m afraid.”

“I understand. You’ve been busy.” Crowley shot Aziraphale a glance, and they shared a smile. “But things are going very well! My marks are good, and I’m on track to graduate this term.”

“Are you going to go for your masters?” Ella asked.

“I intend to, yes. I’m going to get my doctorate, actually, I believe.”

“What are you studying?”

“I’m going to become an archivist!”

“That’s fantastic!” Fergus said, proudly. “You’ll be great at it. Always been the most organized person I know.”

Muriel beamed under the praise.

“Tell me, dear, do you have Dr. Sulton for philosophy?”

“I did, yes. Last term.”

“God,” Fergus said cheerfully. “He’s got to be old as Methuselah now, doesn’t he?”

“He was old when we were there,” Aziraphale said. “And that was… oh, gosh, has it really been seventeen years?”

“We’re getting old, mate,” Fergus said with a smile.

“That’s a horrible thing to say to someone on their birthday,” Aziraphale replied.

“Enh, you can cope.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Speaking of horrible things, why don’t you tell the table about the prank you played in that module?” he said teasingly.

“Ah, no, nobody wants to hear about that.”

“Oh yes we do,” Anathema said enthusiastically, and everyone nodded, including Ella.

Fergus looked a trifle embarrassed, so Aziraphale piped up. “He had a habit of driving around to towns with risque names and stealing their signs.”

“What did you do with them?” Ella asked.

“Various things,” Aziraphale jumped in, before Fergus could say anything. “But for this particular story, he stole a sign from the little village of Twatt and propped it on the lectern, for everyone to see before Dr. Sulton came in.”

Once again, everyone was laughing, including Ella, and Fergus looked heartened. “If you like that one, my mates and I were forever stealing traffic cones and putting them on the statue of King Henry IV.”

“They still do that,” Muriel said. “It’s always hilarious. This year, they dressed him up for Halloween, too. He had a clown wig and a big red nose and everything.”

“Oh, I bet that was hysterical!” Ella laughed.

“It was, yes! I went to see what was going on with some friends, and they all kind of panicked when they saw me there.”

Crowley asked, “Why would they panic when they saw you?”

“Because I was dressed as a constable! And apparently, my costume was really convincing, too. So I walked up on them while they were painting his face white and said, “Ello, ello, ello! What’s all this then?” And a lot of them panicked.”

Everyone was laughing again. “That’s hilarious!”

“It was a good night,” Muriel said, smiling.

“We had a gigantic rock in front of one of the buildings, and the student body always painted it,” Ella said. “Eventually it became something of a sponsored event, and the school organizations took turns to paint the rock. I helped paint when it was my society’s turn.”

“Oh, you were in a society?” Fergus asked.

“Yes, for science. It was a bit more studious than others.” She grinned. “But we still knew how to party.”

“I wasn’t in a society, really,” Fergus said. “I have to admit that I still did a good amount of partying though. I was something of the stereotypical jock.”

“You were a little rambunctious,” Aziraphale said, “but you were never a hooligan.”

Fergus laughed. “You thought I was, though. You didn’t want anything to do with me!”

“Well, that’s because all I knew of you was that you were a meathead jock that liked to play pranks. I have not forgotten the time that you and your friends put hundreds of plastic forks in Dr. Taggart’s front garden during freshers.”

“Ha! You might not have forgotten about that, but I sure had! That was pretty great. But at any rate, once you got to know me, you realized that I’m not actually a bad person.”

“I realized that you’re the best person,” Aziraphale said warmly. “I’m very glad I scratched the surface, to get to know you and see the wonderful man within.”

Crowley knew exactly what Aziraphale was doing - he was hyping up Fergus in front of Ella. And even though he wasn’t the one pursuing Ella - he was quite happy in his own relationship, thank you - he was warmed that Aziraphale was doing this for Fergus. It made him love him even more, as impossible as that seemed.

“Yeah, I’m glad you did, too,” Fergus said. “Found my soulmate that way.”

“Platonic,” Aziraphale reminded him.

“Of course.”

“I never joined a society,” Anathema said. “I wanted to, but they wouldn’t have me.”

“They wouldn’t have you?” Crowley asked.

“They were wary of you because you kept trying to predict people’s futures and told everyone you met about their aura,” Aziraphale said wisely.

“Well, yeah, I was a little more likely to be in your face about the witchy stuff back then. I was trying to find my identity. And in my defense, it worked, because by the end of my time in uni, everybody wanted to be my friend.”

“Of course they did,” Aziraphale said indulgently.

“You are objectively the coolest,” Muriel added.

“Why thank you,” Anathema said, tossing her hair a little. There was another round of laughter.

“What about you, angel?” Crowley asked, turning to Aziraphale. “What kind of shenanigans were you into?”

“None,” Aziraphale said. “I was the quintessential wet blanket.”

Fergus snorted loudly. “Don’t believe his bullshit. He got into tons of exploits.”

“I really didn’t.”

“So I suppose it was your identical twin that was with me when we dumped boxes of powdered mashed potatoes on the front garden of the British History lecturer?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at him. “There is no need to go rehashing all of that, dear.”

“Oh, yes there is,” Crowley said, excited. “I love to hear about shenanigans. What else did he get up to, Ferg?”

“Honestly, not a whole lot more than that, while we were in school. And it was funny, because he was always the one that was reluctant to steal the trays from the cafeteria to sled with when it snowed, but he was also the one that got arrested in France that time in grad school.”

All heads at the table swiveled to look at Aziraphale with wide eyes, and Crowley was delighted. “You got arrested?”

“It was all a big misunderstanding,” Aziraphale insisted. “Un grande, um, mistake.”

“Tell them what happened, Az,” Fergus encouraged, grinning.

“Yes, please do tell us,” Crowley chimed in, smiling huge.

“Well, if you must know, I had a taste for a crepe. And you simply cannot get good ones in London…”

“So you popped across the Channel - because you got peckish?”

“You’d have done the same,” Aziraphale said simply. “But anyway, when I got to Paris, there was a gigantic protest going on, and the taxi driver dropped me off nearby. I didn’t speak enough French to make myself understood, and ended up in the thick of it, so to speak. And I got arrested.”

“I had to fly over and bail him out,” Fergus said.

“And then we went for crepes,” Aziraphale smiled.

“We did, yes.”

“And they were worth the trouble, weren’t they?”

“Oh, I don’t think that was worth the trouble, no. But having something to harass you about until the end of time definitely was.”

Aziraphale hmphed, although he was still smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah. Just improbable.”

Crowley had noticed that Newt had been largely quiet, and he remembered Newt thinking that they were all cooler than him. He didn't want him to feel excluded, so he asked, “What about you, Newt? Did you get into any shenanigans in uni?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. I was too busy working.”

“Ah, you had an internship?” Ella asked.

“No, I was a dancer.”

“Ballet?” Muriel asked.

“Exotic,” Newt said.

The champagne that Crowley had been sipping nearly made a reappearance.

“You’re joking,” Fergus said, with a wide, open-mouth smile of delight.

“He’s not,” Anathema said proudly. “He’s got a whole routine based on his occupation.”

“Which is?”

“He’s an accountant.”

Ella said, “Wait a second. You have an entire striptease based on the premise of ‘sexy accountant’?”

“I do, yes,” Newt said, his face red.

“It includes a pole,” Anathema said. “Honestly, I don’t know how he does it. That is hard to do.”

“You tried pole dancing?” Aziraphale said.

“Of course I did. I took a class for a few months. It’s a terrific workout.”

“Dear lord, don’t let my parents know about that,” Aziraphale said, taking a sip and smiling.

“Enh, it won’t -”

“If I may,” they heard, and all heads turned around to see Frances standing there, with a forced smile on her face. “Aziraphale, Anathema, Muriel, and Petronella, I need you to join us at the head table for a few moments. We have to deliver the toasts and perhaps cut the cake. Honestly, I have no idea how the seating chart got all messed up…”

Crowley thought for just a moment about telling her, just to piss her off, but Aziraphale seemed to anticipate him and put his hand on his leg. “We’ll be right there, Mother,” he said.

Frances looked satisfied and left - but not until she gave Crowley a glare. He just smiled at her.

“Well, I think we’ve been called to do our duty,” Anathema said, putting down her napkin.

“It seems so,” Ella said, putting her own napkin down.

“After the toasts and all that comes the dancing, right?” Crowley said.

“Yes. We have to cut the cake, I think, and do the toasts, but then the dancing will start.”

Crowley was turning to tell Aziraphale to save a dance for him, when Fergus turned to Ella. “Would it be forward of me to ask for a dance later?”

She blushed prettily. “Not forward at all. I’m looking forward to it.”

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed Crowley’s cheek. “I’m looking forward to dancing with you, too,” he said with a smile.

Crowley just loved him.

“Come on,” Anathema said, getting to her feet. “Let’s go before someone’s knickers end up in a knot.”

Crowley held onto Aziraphale’s hand as long as he could, until Aziraphale squeezed him, gave a wink, and went off to join the big table.

He was left at the table with Fergus and Newt, which was not at all unpleasant. The three of them sat there, sipping drinks when they were brought, critiquing the toasts that were given. Apparently, the cake was going to be cut later, because as soon as the toasts were done, the dancing began. It started, as was traditional, with the bride and groom - who looked as if they were being thrown into the fiery pit of hell. Crowley was reminded of preteen kids at their first dance, when they have their arms extended all the way to avoid any contact. And once again, he was struck by the abject misery on their faces. That could never, ever be him on his wedding day. Someday, he added to himself, thinking of what Fergus had said.

After the bride and groom’s dance, there were the dances with the parents. Crowley suspected it might have been a nice moment, except that the bride and groom looked like they were going for a root canal. Only the parents were happy. It was honestly a little painful to watch.

When the family dances were done, the floor was opened up to everyone. Fergus was off like a shot, going to find Ella, and Newt was quickly scooped up by Anathema. Crowley did not miss that Frances was doing her best to get Aziraphale to dance with a young lady, even while Aziraphale was trying to get away and come to Crowley. So Crowley downed the last of his drink and got to his feet to go rescue his love.

Aziraphale’s face lit up when Crowley stepped in and asked for his hand, and when he put his hand into Crowley’s, he thought he could fly.

He pulled Aziraphale out onto the floor, and, unlike Gabriel and Michael - who were currently avoiding each other - pulled him into his arms, as close as he could. Aziraphale came willingly, draping his arms around Crowley, and the song playing was achingly romantic. Crowley was absolutely certain that no one had ever loved anyone else as much as he loved this man.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Aziraphale asked with a smile of his own. “You look smug.”

“I am. Very.”

Aziraphale was playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck, making him a little insane. “Care to share?” he asked, in a very mischievous voice.

Crowley grinned. “Well, see, there’s about three hundred people here…”

“Yes?”

“And all of them see me here with you. They see you in my arms, and they see us dancing inappropriately close,” he said, pulling Aziraphale just a little bit closer for a moment. He giggled. “They see the way we’re looking at each other… and they’re all jealous.”

Aziraphale laughed merrily. “Oh, they are not.”

“Promise they are, sweetheart. Everybody here adores you. But I’m the one that’s going to get to hold you all night. So yeah, I’m smug.”

“You’re so silly, darling.”

“I’m downright stupid, yeah. Over you.” Aziraphale laughed again, and Crowley pulled him even closer. “Could come to like this, angel.”

“The dancing?” Aziraphale asked, coy.

“The dancing, the holding, the stepping out in front of everyone with you in my arms. All of it.”

Aziraphale was giving him a teasing smile. “Why, Mr. Crowley. If you keep this up, I’m going to start to get the impression that you like me or something.”

“Or something,” Crowley said with a quirked grin, dipping his head to kiss him, right here in front of everyone.

His moment was interrupted when the music stopped suddenly, with a loud record scratch. Everyone froze and looked around, confused, including he and Aziraphale, until another song started. He didn’t recognize it at first, and then the lyrics started.

“Every day, it’s a-getting closer, going faster than a roller coaster…”

At the back of the room, the double doors were thrown wide open, and a small, dark-haired figure was standing in the doorway, looking menacing.

Aziraphale gasped in Crowley’s arms. “Bee…”

“That’s Bee? The Bee?”

“Love like yours will surely come my way…”

Bee spoke, their voice clear and easily heard over the gasps and music.

“Hello, Michael. I believe you have my husband.”

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was sure there had never been a more romantic moment in the history of the world. At the very least, he had never experienced such a romantic moment ever in his life. He was currently in Crowley’s arms, and if they’d been holding each other any closer, they wouldn’t have been able to see each other. As it was, they were gazing into each other’s eyes, and Aziraphale was absolutely certain that Crowley could read all his thoughts and feelings on his face. There was no way his love was any kind of secret. He knew it was clearly visible. But the thing was, Crowley was looking at him just the same way, with a tenderness that was utterly ineffable. And Aziraphale had been in love before, of course he had, but he’d never felt quite like this - and he didn’t think he’d ever feel this way again. This, he felt sure, was a once-in-a-lifetime type of love, and he couldn’t get over that it had been given to him, unworthy as he was.

But for the moment, Crowley was teasing him about his reason for being smug, and Aziraphale felt like he should tease back a little. So he gave a smile he hoped was alluring. “Why, Mr. Crowley. If you keep this up, I’m going to start to get the impression that you like me or something.”

Crowley’s grin was lopsided and oh, so sexy when he said, “Or something,” then dipped his head to kiss Aziraphale. Aziraphale closed his eyes and waited for the touch of his love’s lips on-

There was the jarring sound of a record scratch, and both of them tensed in surprise, opening their eyes and looking at each other first. Crowley looked just as shocked as Aziraphale did, so he was sure he didn’t have anything to do with it. When he looked around at the crowd to try to figure out what was going on, everyone looked shocked and confused. From the far side of the room he heard a glass break. When he looked over he saw Ana frowning and Muriel and Newt trying to clean up the shattered remains of a champagne flute.

Then another song started. “Every day, it’s a-getting closer, going faster than a roller coaster…”

The doors at the back of the hall clattered against the wall when they were thrown open, and Aziraphale caught sight of someone he’d honestly thought he’d never see again.

He gasped. “Bee…”

Crowley looked around at Bee, then turned around to Aziraphale with wide eyes. “That’s Bee? The Bee?”

“Love like yours will surely come my way…”

The music wasn’t so loud, however, that Bee couldn’t be heard when they spoke.

“Hello, Michael. I believe you have my husband.”

There was a ripple of energy in the room, and murmurs, while every eye turned to look at Gabriel, including Aziraphale’s. His brother looked a fair amount like someone had clubbed him over the head with something very hard. His violet eyes were wide and his jaw lax - every line on his face was etched with shock. But Aziraphale didn’t miss the spark of joy in his eyes.

“I feel like I should be filming this,” Crowley said in a very low voice. In other circumstances, Aziraphale would have laughed, but he was caught up in the moment and ignored him.

The entire room seemed to be humming with tension, with Bee standing on one end of the room and Gabriel standing on the other. It was very clear to Aziraphale that they only had eyes for each other, but he felt compelled to say something, since nobody else was.

So he stepped forward, away from Crowley, with a smile on his face. “Bee, dear, we’re so glad you could -”

He was cut off by his father’s angry, shouting voice. “You can get the hell out right now!” he roared. “Do you hear me? Right this instant!”

Aziraphale was warmed when Crowley stepped up beside him and wrapped his arm around his waist protectively, even though Derek hadn’t been shouting at him - this time.

“You’re married?!” The Countess squawked.

Gabriel was stammering, and Bee didn’t wait for him to answer. “Legally, no. But he’s still mine.”

“He is no such thing!” Derek shouted. “Get the hell out of here! Now!!”

Bee barely favored Derek with a glance before they stepped forward, beetle-black eyes locked on Gabriel. “I’m not letting you do this, love.”

“It’s already done,” Frances said, in an arrogant, self-satisfied tone. “The wedding is over, the papers are signed -”

“Will you please shut the fuck up?!” Bee spat, and Frances recoiled. “I am done listening to you and your shitty husband!”

“Oh, I like them,” Crowley said very, very quietly. Again, Aziraphale didn’t acknowledge him. He was transfixed by the scene.

“Gabriel, you prat, you’re going to be miserable for the rest of your life if you stay with her, and you know it. Everything in your life will be misery, and for what? To please these arseholes?”

“Now see here -” Derek huffed.

“Can it, arsewipe,” Bee snapped, then wheeled around to look at Michael, who was inching over towards Gabriel, her eyes locked on Bee. “And you,” Bee snarled. She looked a little afraid when Bee singled her out. “How the hell do you even go through with this?! You don’t even like him!”

Michael seemed to regain her composure. “Clearly, you’ve never heard of duty,” she said coolly.

“Fuck duty,” Bee said, and Crowley huffed a little laugh. “Marriage isn’t about duty. That’s some archaic bullshit.”

“Gabriel,” Derek said, turning to his son. “Don’t listen to this… this person.”

“Think of your family!” Frances implored.

Aziraphale knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. “Gabriel, think of yourself!”

Immediately, both of his parents spun around to glare at him, and Derek roared, “Shut up!”

Aziraphale felt Crowley activate beside him, and he laid a soothing hand on him. His eyes were clear and on his brother. “This is your choice, Gabriel. Not anyone else’s.”

“I told you to shut up!” Derek shouted.

“Keep talking to him like that and you’re gonna fucking regret it,” Crowley promised in a voice that was absolutely deadly, pulling Aziraphale a little closer.

Bee spoke again. “Babe, you chose them once before. And I’m here because you made a mistake. You know you made a mistake. And you can fix it. Right now. Come with me.”

Out of nowhere, from the crowd, came a shout in a Scottish accent. “Away wi’ ye, harlot!”

They looked confused when Rev. Shadwell stepped out of the crowd, looking angry.

“Who the fuck is this clown?” Bee demanded.

“Thou shalt not commit adultery!” Shadwell shouted again.

Bee looked confused. “Is that your fucking name?”

Rev. Shadwell raised his hand and pointed his finger, as if to call down the A lmighty Herself. “Oh, mighty God…”

“Oh, eat a dick, old man,” Bee snapped, then turned back to Gabriel while the crowd gasped. Gabriel still looked stunned.

“If you do this,” Michael warned in a steely voice, “I will ruin your life.”

For the first time, Gabriel showed a little life. “There is absolutely nothing you could do that would ruin my life anywhere close to what being married to you would be like.”

Michael gasped, then scowled, looking livid.

“It comes down to this, babe,” Bee said, and all eyes - including Gabriel’s - turned to them. “Do you love her?”

Gabriel shook his head with no hesitation. “No. I don’t.”

“Then fuck her,” Bee said, waving their arm dismissively. “Fuck all of them. Every one of them. Because unlike them, I actually love your sorry arse, and I don’t want to live without you. Not for another minute.”

His eyes looked wet now. “I - I love you, too,” he said, his voice soft. Tentative.

“I will end you if you do this to me on my wedding day!” Michael shouted.

Gabriel whirled to face her. “Do you really think either of us would have been happy? At all?”

“This isn’t about happiness!” Derek shouted.

“Yes, it bloody well is,” Crowley rejoined.

Derek’s face was purple. “I don’t remember asking for your ignorant opinion!”

Bee and Gabriel were ignoring them. “Do you remember what you told me that night? That anywhere I was was your heaven?”

Gabriel nodded. “And you said that anywhere I was was your hell.”

“I meant that. I meant it, babe. Come with me now, and make my life hell forever.”

Aziraphale could see Gabriel wavering, teetering on the brink of the biggest moment of his life, and he would have been the worst brother ever if he hadn’t helped. “Gabriel, this is one of those watershed moments in your life where you have to make a decision. And you know the right one to make. Follow your heart.”

Gabriel glanced at him, then back to Bee. “Yeah,” he said, a smile breaking across his face. “I know what I need to do.”

There was general pandemonium at that, and quite a bit of shouting. Derek was apoplectic, Frances was weeping into her hands, but Aziraphale was smiling as he watched Gabriel cross the distance to Bee, pull them into his arms, and kiss them like he’d been starving for them. Aziraphale - as well as a smattering of other people - clapped approvingly.

“You’ll regret this!” Derek was shouting. “You’re never welcome in my house again, do you hear me! Never again! You’ll be disowned!”

“Fuck off, Father,” Gabriel said, still smiling, his arm around Bee. Then he shot Aziraphale a grateful look. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”

“You’re welcome,” Aziraphale said, heart full to bursting.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said to Bee, then the two of them left the hall while some people continued to clap and others - mainly Derek - raged. Frances was sobbing now, with a lace handkerchief in her hands and over her face. Aziraphale turned around to take stock of the rest of the crowd. The Countess seemed to have fainted and was now limp in a chair with someone fanning her. The Earl looked uncharacteristically subdued, not his usual jovial self, which was to be expected, Aziraphale supposed. When he turned to look at Michael, she rolled her eyes and threw back all the champagne in her glass, like a shot.

“Whatever,” she said, grabbing another glass. “I fuckin’ tried.” While Aziraphale watched, Ella left Fergus’ side to go be with her sister. He didn’t miss her brushing Ella off.

“Well,” Crowley said from beside Aziraphale, his arm still around his waist. “That was a thing.”

“Indeed it was,” Aziraphale said, still feeling tremendously happy.

“Kind of wish I’d filmed it now.”

Aziraphale laughed lightly. “To be honest, I kind of wish that, too.”

He was just about to suggest that he and Crowley get out of there when Derek whirled around at them, his face so red that Aziraphale was momentarily concerned about his health. “You,” he snarled at Crowley. “You did this.”

“I had nothing to do with anything,” Crowley said easily, sounding pleased as punch.

“Things were going fine until you walked into this house!”

Crowley grinned at him condescendingly. “Oh, my God, you really believe that, don’t you? The delusion runs deep here.”

“I know that you did something!”

“He didn’t do anything, Father,” Aziraphale spoke up. “He had no idea who Bee was until they walked in the door.”

“He’s right,” Crowley agreed. “I had nothing to do with anything. It takes years and years - decades - to make a fuckup this big. I’ve been here for ninety-six hours. This one is on you.”

Derek’s hands were clenched beside him. “I will destroy you!”

Crowley scoffed. “You’ll shit and fall back in it. Do you really think I’m afraid of you? Some nobody little man, puffed up on his own importance? You did this to yourself by treating Gabriel’s partner like trash because they’re nonbinary.”

“That was not the reason we disapproved!”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale asked in a snarky tone. “Then why was it?”

“That person isn’t good enough for our son! Leaving aside that they refuse to be what they are -“

“There it is,” Crowley said, sounding satisfied.

“They’re uncouth and uncivilized and rude and -”

“Well, Father,” Aziraphale said, cutting him off, “I am here to tell you that you do not get to choose who people fall in love with, not even your own children. And you’ve managed to alienate both your sons with this behavior. Perhaps you’ll come around sometime.”

Derek was shaking with rage. “You and your brother have both chosen people who are utterly unsuitable! They are beneath you!”

Aziraphale wanted very much to make a filthy comment, but refrained. He sensed Crowley about to speak, and stopped him.

“Crowley is not beneath me in any way. He is my partner, my equal. We are a pair. A group. A group of the two of us. And I choose him. Whether you choose to have a relationship with me or not is up to you.” Figuring he’d said all he needed to say, he turned to Crowley. “I’m suddenly feeling quite tired. Do you think that we could retire?”

“Absolutely,” Crowley said, looking delighted. He started to lead Aziraphale out of the room, his arm around him and called over his shoulder. “Thanks so much for a great party! It was a blast!”

“Go to hell!” Derek shouted.

“Probably will! And by the way, the buttercream was fantastic!” Crowley called back.

“We didn’t cut the damn cake!!”

Crowley grinned at him. “I’m well aware.” Then he grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and tugged him towards the door. “Come on, angel. Let’s make like a tree and get the hell out of here.”

Aziraphale was very, very happy to go with him.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale managed to contain his giddy giggles until he and Crowley exited the hall and were headed - hastily - towards their room. Once he was sure there weren’t any wedding guests around, he let them burst out, unable to control them anymore.

Crowley, who was holding his hand and practically speedwalking towards their room, turned and looked at him with a wicked grin. “You liked that, did you?”

“My darling, what’s not to like?” Aziraphale bubbled. “My parents don’t get what they want and my brother is happy. It’s a win-win.”

He made a mock-sour face. “I think I’d like it a little more if Gabriel wasn’t getting what he wanted. Prick doesn’t deserve it.”

“Now, Crowley,” Aziraphale chided. “He deserves to be happy, just like anyone else. And I know you don’t believe me, but for the nine months he was with Bee, before my parents torpedoed it, he was downright pleasant - most of the time. They temper him, and make him more…they make him softer. Kinder. And I’m very much hoping that he will go back to the Gabriel he was when they were together before now. But I don’t wish to talk about that,” he finished, with a little wave.

“What would you like to talk about then, angel?”

Aziraphale pulled him closer, so he could speak into his ear quietly. “When I get you behind closed doors, I’m going to fuck you senseless,” he murmured, and kissed the shell of Crowley’s ear.

Crowley shivered, then sped up. Aziraphale also sped up, smug.

When they got to the room, Crowley opened the door and let Aziraphale pass him to go inside. Aziraphale did so, and turned around to see Crowley shutting the door with his foot. Without a word, they came together, arms wrapped around each other, kissing almost violently. Aziraphale was hard as a rock within seconds, and when he rutted against Crowley, he was rewarded with his love shoving him against a wall and kissing him even harder, his tongue invading, while he ground his cock against Aziraphale. Aziraphale welcomed it, gloried in it, his hands roaming all over Crowley, messing up his hair and gripping his arse, before he wedged his hands between them and started working on Crowley’s clothes.

They managed to get their jackets off and tossed to the side, and were working on each other’s waistcoats and shirts when there was a knock at the door. Both of them turned towards the sound, but Aziraphale turned back to Crowley quickly, kissing his neck.

“Just ignore it,” he implored, nibbling.

“Shit. I forgot.”

“What did you forget?” Aziraphale asked, making headway on his shirt.

“I made arrangements for something,” he said, then stepped back from Aziraphale. He had a little smile on his face. “Go answer the door, angel. It’s for you.”

Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look. “For me?”

“Yep. Go answer the door.”

His brows knitted in confusion a bit more, then he walked to the door, pulling his shirt tails out to cover his erection. That done, he opened the door just a bit. “Yes?”

Furfur was standing there with a white box on a silver tray. “For you, Mr. Aziraphale, with Mr. Crowley’s compliments.”

Aziraphale stood there for a moment, looking back and forth between the box and Ffurfur, then took the box wonderingly. He was so distracted by it, he forgot to thank Furfur before he shut the door.

“Darling? What’s this?”

Crowley was grinning. “It’s for you. Open it.”

He did so, and let out a little gasp when he saw what was inside. It was an oversized cupcake that looked like it fed two, piled high with icing in various shades of blue, pink, and purple. It had some of those little silver balls on it, and a single candle sticking out of the top. It was frankly the most beautiful cupcake Aziraphale had ever seen.

“Is this for me?” Aziraphale asked, voice full of awe.

“Well I don’t have any other boyfriends whose birthday is today,” Crowley teased. “So I reckon it must be for you.”

Aziraphale’s mind was still reeling. “In the middle of all this drama and hubbub and… everything, you made arrangements for me to have a cake on my birthday?”

“Of course I did,” Crowley said, as if it were simple. “Aren’t you going to ask about how it’s decorated?”

“Like space?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is it decorated like space?”

“Because, angel, I’d give you every star in the sky, if I could.”

Aziraphale felt tears prick his eyes, tears of love and joy and the overwhelming happiness he’d found. He was weighing what to do when Crowley produced a lighter out of his pocket and lit the candle, with Aziraphale still holding the cupcake. The tears nearly escaped when Crowley sang ‘happy birthday’ in a soft, sweet voice.

“Blow out your candle, sweetheart,” he encouraged when the song was done.

He blinked at him for a moment, then used two fingers to extinguish the flame.

Crowley looked confused. “What’d you do that for? Don’t you want to make a wish?”

Aziraphale took a couple of steps over to the bedside table and sat the cupcake down, then came back towards Crowley. “No need, darling. All my wishes came true when I met you.”

Crowley stepped forward and started plucking at the fabric covering Aziraphale’s hips. “Surely not all your wishes.”

“The important ones did,” Aziraphale said. “Crowley, darling?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I need you to take your clothes off, please. As fast as you can. If I don’t have you, I’m going to explode.”

Crowley’s eyes darkened and he kissed Aziraphale quickly, then set about disrobing rapidly. Aziraphale was also taking off his own clothes, but a little slower. Mostly, he was enjoying watching Crowley’s body as it was revealed to him. He really was the most perfectly formed man Aziraphale had ever seen, so lean and sexy, every line intersecting with another one, creating beauty unlike anything Aziraphale had never even contemplated before.

“You really are the most beautiful of God’s creations,” Aziraphale marveled while he unbuttoned his shirt and Crowley pushed down his trousers, baring himself.

“I think you are,” Crowley rejoined, pulling off his socks one at a time. “Do you need help getting naked?”

“No, I don’t think so. What I need for you to do is lie down on the bed, please, and wait for me.”

Crowley went to the bed after he stole a quick kiss, and laid down, propped on his side, his hand idly petting his cock. Aziraphale eyed that cock with hungry eyes, but he knew he’d be getting it into his mouth very soon.

“Do you know what I think, Crowley?” he asked as he tugged his vest off, tossing it aside carelessly.

“Goddamn you’re gorgeous,” Crowley said, eyes dark. “What do you think?”

He walked over to the side table. “I think I’m going to have my cupcake now.”

Crowley raised a brow. “Now?”

“Well, perhaps just the icing,” Aziraphale said, sitting down on the low bed beside Crowley. He retrieved the lubricant and put it on the bed, so it would be ready, and then he dipped a finger in the icing and, with a wicked look, put it on Crowley’s neck. Crowley looked a little stunned for a moment, then let out a loud moan when Aziraphale leaned over and started licking and sucking the icing off.

“Oh, God, angel,” Crowley groaned, putting his hands on Aziraphale, encouraging him to climb on.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale said, making a production out of cleaning off the icing. “You always taste wonderful to me, but I have to admit that this extra sweetness is very, very nice.”

Crowley’s hands were flexing and releasing on his skin, and Aziraphale could almost feel his climbing desire. “Angel…”

Aziraphale raised up a little, took another fingerful of icing, then smeared it down his sternum. “Such a big heart you hide in here,” he said, just before he started cleaning it up with big licks and lots of sucks. “No one would ever know that you’re as wonderful as you are, would they? But I know. I know that you’re an amazing human, inside and out.”

“Angel… fuck. What are you doing to me?”

“Anything I want,” he said simply as he kissed his way lower. “After all, it’s my birthday, isn’t it? What else could I possibly ask for than to have the man of my dreams laid out naked, on a bed, and be able to worship him properly?”

Crowley was frantically trying to unfasten Aziraphale’s trousers to get to his cock, and he moaned when Crowley was successful. He couldn’t help but thrust lightly into his love’s hand.

“My darling, your hand feels so very, very good on my cock. It makes me unspeakably happy for you to touch me. But tonight, I want you to let me touch you.” He swirled his tongue around Crowley’s flat nipple, making it pebble, then bit it gently. Crowley keened and stroked his cock a little more. “You know, darling, if you keep that up, you might make me come. And we can’t have that. Plus, I can’t concentrate when you’re touching me.” He took Crowley’s wrists and raised them above his head. There was no headboard to hold, but Crowley instinctively grabbed the edge of the mattress. “Good boy,” he said approvingly.

Crowley whimpered, and he smirked as he went back to work.

“You know, my sweet, I have been remiss in asking you about your tattoos.”

“You want to talk about that now?” Crowley croaked.

“Yes, I think so, while I’m exploring you. What do they mean?”

Crowley’s voice was strained. “The right sleeve is astronomy themed, because I like space.”

“Mmm, a good choice,” Aziraphale said, grinding himself against Crowley and kissing him all over. “What about the left sleeve?”

“It’s… oh, God. It’s from the bible story of Eden.”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale said, between licking his pectoral muscles with the flat of his tongue. “I do seem to recall something about a snake. What about the rest of them?”

“I’ll tell you all about them. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I’ll tell you where Jimmy fucking Hoffa is buried, if you want me to, angel, just please...”

Aziraphale smiled to himself and kissed his way south. “Oh, darling, your body is so responsive to me. Look at the way your muscles jump when I kiss you, like you’re eager for me…”

“Oh, God, angel…” Crowley groaned.

He trailed his mouth lower, circling his navel and then dragging his tongue down the little trail of hair that led from his belly button to his cock. He could hear Crowley gasp when he got close, then whimper when Aziraphale bypassed his cock and started pressing kisses to his hips.

“Are you aware of how you walk, dear?” Aziraphale asked, almost casually.

“I… I walk funny?”

“Oh, no. It’s not funny at all. You walk like a sex god, and when I see you walk, all I can do is watch your hips and think about how they feel when you’re between my legs, fucking me.”

Crowley bit his lip and groaned, arching his head back while Aziraphale lavished his thighs with praise.

“You’re so lean, my sweet, but you’re exceptionally well built. You are, quite frankly, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life. And for some reason, you’re mine. Aren’t you?”

He was writhing on the bed now, his whole body taut with the effort of being still. “Angel, angel… please…”

“I asked you a question, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, a little touch of steel in his voice. “I’d like an answer.”

“What - oh, God - what was the question?”

Aziraphale nuzzled his bollocks, darting his tongue out to taste every now and then. “Are you mine?”

“Yes! Yes, God, yes, I’m yours, I’m entirely yours, I belong to you, just please...”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I am going to go up in flames if you don’t touch me, angel. I’m going to fucking die right here on the spot if - oh fuck!”

He had shouted because Aziraphale had opened his mouth and taken his cock into it, swirling his tongue around the tip, gathering his taste, flicking his piercing. He wondered at the feeling of the jewelry rolling around on his tongue, and then wasted no time before he took him deeper into his mouth, setting up a steady rhythm.

“Oh God, oh God… angel… It feels so good… Ah! Ah!”

Aziraphale pulled off for a moment and replaced his mouth with his hand, pumping him quickly. “I’m going to suck you, Crowley,” he said, reaching for the lube. “I’m going to suck you until you explode in my mouth.” Crowley groaned, and Aziraphale smiled while he got his fingers slick. “But I want something from you.”

“Anything. I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you to talk to me. Tell me everything you’re thinking, no matter how dirty it is. In fact, the dirtier the better. I want to hear all your filthy fantasies. Everything you’ve imagined us doing. Alright?”

Crowley nodded, his eyes wide and his face slack. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Very nice,” Aziraphale said, then bent to take Crowley’s cock back into his mouth at the same time he slid his fingers between Crowley’s cheeks and circled his rim.

His love let out a downright filthy sound that Aziraphale wanted to hear more and more. “Oh, fuck, angel… You’re so good at this. You suck my cock like you were born to do it. And I’m starting to believe that you were. I’m starting to - oh fuck - I’m starting to believe that I was made for you. Fucking… yes, please… give me a finger.”

As requested, Aziraphale eased a finger into his arsehole, and relished the way Crowley’s whole body responded by curling in on itself for a moment. He slid the finger in and out while he bobbed on him, making a terrible mess. He didn’t care at all.

“Fucking… shit angel. Your finger is so thick… but it’s nothing compared to your cock. And that’s what I want. I want you to fuck me with your fat cock. Will you? Please?”

Aziraphale pulled off to speak to him again, using his left hand to pump him. “I’m afraid we’re at an impasse, darling, because I very much want you to come down my throat. But you want me to fuck you. Shall we paper-rock-scissors for it?”

“Hnngh,” Crowley said, still squirming. “Please, angel… Please, I need you… I need you to fuck me…”

“So you don’t want me to suck your cock until you explode? That’s a pity…”

“You can fuck me after,” Crowley said suddenly. “You can do anything you want to me, you can suck me all night, but please, please promise you’ll fuck me after.”

“Is that what you really want, my sweet?”

Crowley nodded, his eyes screwed shut and his face looking tortured. “Yeah. I want you to do whatever you want to me, just please, please fuck me.”

“I’ll be happy to - but I want to bring your attention back to what I told you I wanted to hear. And while I’m on the subject, I want to hear more about how you were made for me. How about that?”

“Whatever you want. I’ll do anything. Please…”

“My pleasure,” Aziraphale said, then went back to sucking Crowley’s cock greedily.

Crowley let out a cry that was not remotely human, and Aziraphale was gratified when he felt Crowley’s hands come to fist in his hair tightly. “Oh, fuck, angel… I’ve never felt anything like this… give me another finger.”

Aziraphale eased another finger in beside the first and set to work fucking him with them, slowly and carefully.

“Goddamn, sweetheart… yeah. You were meant for me. I know it. I’ve never believed in any kind of great plan or anything, but I’m so, so sure of it now. I was born to be yours. I was made for you. God made me for you. Oh, right there… fuck…”

Aziraphale began to apply pressure to his prostate, and was delighted when Crowley bucked up into his mouth involuntarily.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Oh, fuck… that’s right, sweetheart. Suck me. Suck me like you’ve never had anything better. Fuck me with your mouth… God, you’re good at this…”

Crowley’s thighs were beginning to tremble, and Aziraphale was very sure that he was getting close. So he sped up the motions of his head and sucked harder, taking him into the back of his throat.

“Oh, God, angel,” Crowley moaned. “You’re letting me fuck your throat… shit. I’m getting close. I’m going to come. Do you want me to come down your throat? Is that what you want? Ah! Ah! If I come down your throat, does that mean it’s mine?”

Aziraphale made an affirmative humming noise, then curled his finger to stroke Crowley’s prostate more.

His hands tightened to almost painful levels in Aziraphale’s hair. “Fuck! Fuck! Angel, I’m getting close. You’re gonna make me come… oh, God, it feels so good… I’m gonna come…”

He sped up, sucking him voraciously, making an unspeakable mess, while Crowley writhed on the bed - and then went perfectly still. Aziraphale was tingling with excitement.

“Oh, God, oh fuck, I’m gonna come. Are you ready? Shit. Shit. I’m gonna come… I’m coming! Ah! Ah!”

Crowley thrashed on the bed while Aziraphale sucked him and fucked him with his fingers. His mouth filled with the salt-musk tang of Crowley’s spend, and Aziraphale sucked harder, hoping to get more of that taste. Crowley shouted incoherently - and loudly - things that didn’t even resemble any language. But Aziraphale understood perfectly. Those sounds meant he’d done a good job.

He continued to suck and stroke Crowley while he jerked around on the bed, getting all of Crowley’s taste he could, until his love collapsed onto the bed, limp, pushing at Aziraphale’s head.

“Stop, angel, please. I’ll die if you keep going.”

Aziraphale chuckled to himself while he pulled off and swallowed the wonderful taste of Crowley, stilling his fingers inside of him. He very slowly and deliberately licked Crowley’s cock clean while he trembled with aftershocks, until Crowley asked him breathlessly for a kiss. He was only too happy to comply.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, making Crowley groan, then came to hover above his boyfriend, feeling pure contentment at how wrecked Crowley looked. His chest was heaving with his breaths, he was flushed, and his mouth was open to facilitate his harsh breathing.

Aziraphale loved him so much he’d thought he’d die, and couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss him.

Crowley opened his eyes to look at Aziraphale. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

He grinned at him. “My dear, I went to an English boarding school. I know all sorts of delightful things.”

Crowley gave him a disbelieving grin. “I want you to show me everything you know, multiple times, for the next six thousand years.”

“Six thousand?” Aziraphale asked, amused.

“That’s just a start. But for now,” he said, wrapping his hand around Aziraphale’s cock and stroking. “I need you to do what you promised.”

Aziraphale’s eyes darkened, and he was thrusting into Crowley’s hand. “You really want me to fuck you?”

He nodded up at Aziraphale, then used his hand to reach up and grab Aziraphale by the head and haul him into a fierce kiss. Aziraphale was very much enjoying the way Crowley’s tongue swirled with his, and the way his fingernails scraped his scalp, when Crowley broke the kiss and looked up at Aziraphale with amber eyes blazing.

“You said you were gonna take me apart, and you did. Now I want you to take me, angel.”

Something almost primal welled up inside Aziraphale, and he raised up on his knees, his eyes locked with Crowley, to push his trousers and pants down. His gaze never wavered from Crowley’s until he kissed him, hard, while he went up on his hands to kick his trousers down. Crowley was clutching him with both hands, and even wrapped a leg around Aziraphale’s waist, like he was afraid Aziraphale was going to get away. But Aziraphale had no intention of going anywhere.

They were both panting for air when the kiss broke, and Aziraphale went back up on his knees, grabbing Crowley’s legs and pushing them towards his trunk. “Here, darling,” he said, voice rough. “Hold these.”

Crowley grabbed his legs behind his knees and pulled them to his shoulders, his eyes locked on Aziraphale and smoldering. Aziraphale sat back on his haunches and looked at Crowley, his eyes hungry.

“Look at you,” he praised, running his hands all over Crowley’s thighs, his bum, then massaging his rim a little, gently. “You’re laid out like a feast for me. Whatever will I do with you?”

“I’m hoping you’ll fuck me until I can’t walk. Please, angel, I want to feel that fat cock in me…”

He was still massaging Crowley’s rim with one hand, and the other reached for the lubricant. “Do you want me to finger you some more, or do you feel ready?”

“I feel like I’m going to fucking explode if you don’t fuck me already.”

Aziraphale chuckled while he used the lubricant to slick his cock. “My, my, aren’t we mouthy?” He moved so he could line his cock up with Crowley’s arsehole. “Let’s see if I can’t reduce you to moans and grunts. What do you think?”

Crowley’s eyes were wild. “Please, sweetheart….”

“Patience,” Aziraphale chided while he increased the pressure of his cock on Crowley’s arsehole. He watched his love’s face carefully while he pushed forward, alert for any signs of distress, but Crowley looked utterly blissful. After a moment, he felt himself breach, and both of them took a shuddery breath.

“Oh, my lord,” Aziraphale moaned as he sank deeper. “My darling, you feel… I don’t think there are words to describe it.”

Crowley was biting his lip, his eyes etched with pleasure/pain. “Oh, fuck, angel. You feel so good… your cock stretches me so much… hnngh…”

He murmured soothing nonsense while he continued to bury himself in Crowley, until he was bottomed out. When he did, he paused, looking at Crowley’s face.

“Are you alright, darling?”

Crowey opened his eyes and nodded up at him. “Please, please, angel…”

He withdrew slowly, gently. “How do you want me?”

“Hnngh,” Crowley groaned. “Can I - Can I be honest with you?”

“Please,” Aziraphale asked, sawing in and out, still slowly and gently.

“I want you to fuck me senseless. Please…”

“My pleasure,” Aziraphale said, then started fucking Crowley like some sort of maniac. He was almost wild in his taking of Crowley, on the verge of brutal, and he was doing his best to watch Crowley’s face to make sure his love was alright.

Crowley was wailing his pleasure below him, his head thrown back, exposing his long neck, and his eyes closed. His whole body was rocking with every powerful thrust, and he was making little impact noises - that were actually word fragments - while Aziraphale fucked him.

“Angel! Angel! Oh, God, your cock feels so good in me! Ah! Ah! Fucking - please! Fuck me!!”

Aziraphale’s breath was a little choppy, but he put that steel back in his voice that Crowley had reacted to. “Whose arse is this, Crowley?”

“Yours!” Crowley wailed, pulling his legs back farther, letting Aziraphale go deeper.

“That’s right,” Aziraphale said, voice a little broken. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. I won’t share you with anyone… I’ve waited too long for you to share you… oh, fuck, darling, you feel so good…”

The tendons in Crowley’s neck were standing out, and Aziraphale was desperate to taste him, so he lowered his body and started sucking on his lover’s neck, with the half formed idea to leave a mark of possession on him.

“You’re mine!” Crowley shouted. “Oh, God, you’re mine! Please! Please!”

Aziraphale felt himself sliding closer to the edge. “Can you come again, darling?”

Crowley shook his head, eyes still closed. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. But you feel so good… hnnngh… please…”

“I’m getting close, darling,” Aziraphale managed to say. “I’m… fuck. I’m getting close to the edge, darling…”

“Come in me!” Crowley shouted. “Please! Come in me! Fill me with it! No one else can have me! Ah! Ah! Please!”

Aziraphale was slamming into him now, their bodies making an utterly obscene noise, while Crowley begged and sobbed beneath him. He was teetering on the brink, so very close, and then Crowley opened his eyes to look at Aziraphale. Their eyes met, a wealth of emotion passed between them, and Aziraphale gave over, coming into Crowley’s arse like a bloody freight train with a loud cry of his love’s name.

When he floated back down to earth, he was collapsed on top of Crowley, who had released his legs and was caressing Aziraphale’s back, kissing the side of his head. “Oh, fuck, angel, that was so good… I’ve never experienced anything like that… you’re so good, so fucking good…”

Aziraphale raised his head wearily and looked down into Crowley’s eyes again. Crowley looked utterly blissful, and Aziraphale gave a tired smile before he kissed him softly, gently.

They were still kissing when Aziraphale softened enough to fall out of Crowley’s arse, and both of them made a little sound of displeasure at that before Aziraphale collapsed onto the bed beside his love. He was still out of breath, still tingling with aftershocks, and Crowley snuggled up to him, showering his shoulder with kisses.

“Thank you, angel. Thank you for that. Oh, God, that was so good, thank you…”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “You don’t have to thank me, darling.”

“But I feel like I should.”

He was smiling when he turned his head to catch Crowley’s mouth in a kiss, and within a few seconds, they were tangled up in each other’s arms, under the duvet, snuggled in and ready for sleep.

Aziraphale sighed contentedly as he settled in, and Crowley kissed his cheek again.

“You’re a dream come true, angel, except I didn’t know to dream of you.”

He smiled. “Well, to be fair, I didn’t know to dream of you, either. But I rather think the reality would have blown away any daydreams I had. You’re incredible.”

Crowley kissed him sweetly. “I think you are.”

“You’re allowed to be wrong,” Aziraphale teased.

They held each other in the quiet for a while, and Aziraphale felt more at peace than he ever had in his life. This was what he had been searching for, this was -

“Angel?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Tomorrow morning, when we wake up, I am going to absolutely rock your world.”

Aziraphale tittered. “I’m quite looking forward to it, darling.”

“And then, after that, can we get out of this house full of crazy arseholes?”

“Well, I would like to see the people we love for a few minutes, but yes, I think we could leave around lunchtime, if you wanted.”

“Perfect,” Crowley said, then kissed him again. “After Ii fuck you senseless.”

“Oh, yes, of course. And hopefully after you hold me all night.”

“That’s a given, sweetheart.”

I love you…

Aziraphale laid there, content, and was coming dangerously close to drifting off, when a thought occurred to him and he broke the silence. “Crowley, darling?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“This has been the best birthday I ever had.”

Crowley smiled and kissed his forehead. “From now on, angel, you’re going to have the best birthdays anyone ever had.”

“I can’t wait, darling.”

Chapter Text

Monday, 4 March

Crowley woke up on Monday morning slowly. He knew, even before he opened his eyes, that he was content. Happy. At peace. And it only took a split second for him to realize that the reason for his joy was snuggled into his side, snoring gently.

If you had sat Crowley down two weeks ago and told him that he was going to be a stranger’s date to a wedding, he’d probably have believed that. But if you’d told him that he was going to fall in love with the man he was going with, he’d have scoffed. And if you’d told him he was going to fall in love in a matter of two days, he’d have laughed outright. Crowley had generally guarded his heart carefully, and the times he had fallen in love had been slow and gradual. He wouldn’t say that it had been instant with Aziraphale, but it had been very, very rapid. It had been as natural and easy as falling asleep. He figured there were a couple of factors at play there - first, the two of them were in something of a high-stress situation, and there was a fair amount of ‘us against them’ going on, which tended to bond people. But that wasn’t all of it, and he knew it. Aziraphale was everything Crowley had ever hoped for in a partner, and much more. He was funny, he was brilliant, he was witty, he was gorgeous, he was kind. Crowley was still blown away when he thought about the fact that Aziraphale had helped his awful brother find happiness. That was a level of kindness that he had never seen before, in any person he’d ever known. He suspected that it was a unique trait to Aziraphale.

Crowley smiled to himself as he nuzzled into his love. Every time Aziraphale had accused him of being silly, he’d told him that he was silly over him. But that was a dramatic understatement. Crowley was so in love he was downright stupid with it. It honestly seemed like he loved Aziraphale more with every passing minute, and he couldn’t think of a single thing he wouldn’t do for the man he loved. He was ready to commit his whole life to this angel - but he hadn’t forgotten what Fergus said yesterday.

There was a war being waged within him: on one side, his brain was telling him that he needed to listen to Fergus and not make any legal entanglements until he was absolutely, one hundred percent certain that Aziraphale was The One. There was a part of him that believed that if he did something like propose or move into Aziraphale’s flat or something, there was a better chance that things might go south. He was superstitious enough to think that doing such a thing would be tempting fate. He’d had more than a couple of friends who had thought they were going to be with their partner forever, so they got the partner’s name tattooed on themselves. In nearly every case, the couple had broken up within a year, and Crowley felt like moving in together or getting married was basically the same concept. He knew very well that he needed to be cautious and wary. Love takes time, he knew, and he had time. He had the rest of his life, and he’d wait for the time to be right. He’d wait for Aziraphale.

That’s what his brain said.

His heart, meanwhile, disagreed completely. His heart was telling him that he had never been so sure, that he didn’t need time - and in fact, he didn’t want to waste time waiting. His heart knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that Aziraphale really was The One, the person he was meant to sail into his golden years with, and he was eager to get started on that. He wanted to be with Aziraphale every moment he possibly could, he wanted to integrate his life into Aziraphale’s, he wanted to make it so they’d never, ever have to be apart. And his heart was adamant that, although he’d never believed in soulmates before, Aziraphale had come along just to prove him wrong. Aziraphale was the other half of him, he was sure. He hadn’t been shooting off at the mouth when he told his angel last night that he believed God had made them for each other. He really believed that, with his whole heart. He was ready to start his life with Aziraphale right now, today, as soon as they left this godforsaken place.

He couldn’t help but think, though, as he lay there, that there had to be some sort of happy medium. There was nearly always some middle ground to be found, and what he needed to do was devote his energy to finding that middle ground. Fergus had told him not to slow down, really, just not to create any situations they couldn’t get out of easily. That left a lot of wiggle room, to his mind.

At the moment, he wished he was home, so he could talk to his plants. And that idea was appealing for about five seconds, until he realized that what he needed to do was talk to Aziraphale about all this. He knew Fergus had had the same talk with Aziraphale yesterday, so this wouldn’t be a surprise when Crowley brought it up. And he’d told Fergus yesterday that he wasn’t willing to make any decisions without talking to Aziraphale, so they could make the decision together.

The problem with that was that he didn’t see a way to tell Aziraphale about it without telling him that he was in love with him, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. And while he was somewhat confident that his feelings would be returned, that was still a huge, huge thing to tell someone. Aziraphale deserved a moment, he deserved to be swept off his feet. What was more, Crowley felt like he might get a better outcome if he told Aziraphale in some big, romantic way.

One thing was for sure, though - he was absolutely not going to tell Aziraphale while they were at his fucking parents’ house. He didn’t want to tell him in the car, on the way back to London, either. What he wanted to do was get Aziraphale home, then maybe cook him dinner tomorrow night - and tell him then. He could buy some flowers, make the place look pretty. Or, another option, he could take Aziraphale to a big, showy, romantic dinner and tell him there. Maybe the Savoy, or even the Ritz. Aziraphale seemed like the type of man who would appreciate fine dining, and there would be gentle music playing there, plus champagne and fine food - yeah. That was more like it. That’s what he should do.

Aziraphale was stirring next to him, making sleepy little mewling sounds, and Crowley felt himself light up. He was going to get to talk to Aziraphale, to kiss him, to hold him, and he could never get enough of that. Not in a million years.

He decided to kiss Aziraphale awake, and dipped his head to catch his sweetheart’s mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. Aziraphale seemed to wake up while Crowley was kissing him, and it wasn’t long before they were caressing each other.

When the kiss broke, Aziraphale blinked his eyes open, and as soon as he saw Crowley, he smiled. “Good morning, darling.’

Crowley smiled right back. “Good morning to you, angel. How did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept like a dream,” he said, then his eyes twinkled. “No singing today?”

“You want me to sing?”

“Well, it is rather nice being serenaded awake…”

Crowley was grinning. “Well, I sang to you twice yesterday, and today’s not your birthday, but I think I can work something up. One second.”

He cleared his throat theatrically while Aziraphale was looking on, and then he burst into song.

“IIIII’m ‘Enery the Eighth I am, ‘Enery the Eighth I am I am…”

Aziraphale burst into musical laughter while Crowley sang, then kissed him to shut him up. “You really are ridiculous, my darling.”

“Funny you should say that. I was just thinking before you woke up about how right you are, that I’m totally ridiculous.”

“Oh? Care to share?”

He thought for one quick moment, then kissed Aziraphale’s nose. “No. Not right now. But very soon, I promise.”

Aziraphale put on a pretty little pout, and Crowley grinned. “You’re cute as hell when you stick your lip out like that, but it won’t work. I’m heartless and cruel and mean and a demon.”

“Oh, I disagree most stridently. I think you’re the best person in the world.”

He grinned and kissed him again. “You’re allowed to be wrong.” Then he settled down into the bed again, Aziraphale still in his arms. “So we’re getting out of here today, yeah?”

Aziraphale’s face changed. "God, yes, thank you. Let me get packed and we can, what's the term? Lick this popsicle stand?"

"Okay, first: That is not the term. That is never the term. But second, I want you to wait a minute. Don’t go pack yet.”

“Why not?”

“Two reasons. One, I am very much enjoying this snuggle, and once you get out of bed, I won’t be able to hold you for several very long hours.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale said, nuzzling in. “That’s a valid point.”

“The second reason,” Crowley said, moving to kiss Aziraphale’s pulse point and nibble his neck, “is that I believe I promised you something last night.”

Aziraphale’s hands had already started roaming over Crowley’s skin softly. “Hmm,” he hummed, sounding content. “I believe you did, yes.”

Crowley nibbled his tendon. “Would you like for me to follow through?”

“I think you should refresh my memory as to what you promised,” Aziraphale said, coy, now grinding against Crowley a little.

“I believe I promised to rock your world, unless I’m much mistaken.”

Aziraphale was petting his chest, sliding lower towards his already-straining cock. “You did, yes. And I believe you were going to do it with this cock?”

“I was, yes,” Crowley agreed, rolling his hips forward a little. “What would you think of that?”

He was kissing Crowley’s throat when he answered. “I’d like that a very great deal, and I’ll tell you why.”

Crowley reached between them and wrapped his hand around Aziraphale’s half-hard cock. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me everything.”

He was moving involuntarily, rolling his hips into Crowley’s hand. “Because I like to feel you inside me,” he said, kissing Crowley’s shoulders. “When you are buried in me, that’s the most complete I’ve ever felt as a human being. I feel whole in a way I’ve never felt before, every time you make love to me. And I want that again. I want it all the time, forever.”

Crowley went back to nibbling Aziraphale’s collarbones. “I’m more than happy to oblige you, sweetheart,” he crooned. “But I have to tell you that I feel the exact same way about you fucking me last night. Something in my soul shifted when you did that, and I want that again sometime.”

Aziraphale’s breath was getting choppy. “Do you not like fucking me?”

“Oh, no, angel,” Crowley assured him, sucking a mark over his jugular. “I love making love to you any way we do it. And when I’m inside you, I feel like I’ve found my purpose.” He nibbled his earlobe. “Every moment with you makes me feel like I’ve found my purpose. And I want that all the time, forever.”

The angel shivered and tightened his hand around Crowley’s cock, twisting it. “It sounds as if we’re on the same page, then.”

“It does, indeed,” Crowley murmured against the hollow behind his ear. “Angel?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“We’ve had sex a few times now, and I have loved every moment of every time. Nothing has ever, ever been better. But I was wondering…”

Aziraphale was thrusting into Crowley’s hand a little more now. “Wondering what, my sweet?”

“I was wondering if you’d let me make slow, worshipful love to you.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” he rumbled against his skin. “I want that very much.”

Aziraphale craned his neck to look at the clock. “We don’t have much time, but I have a proposal.”

“Tell me.”

“We’ll make sweet love now, but we will be somewhat speedy about it.”

Crowley pouted. “Angel…”

Aziraphale stopped his mouth with his finger. “And when we get home, back to your flat - or mine - you can have me any way you want as many times as you want for as long as you want.”

His pout became a grin. “You promise?”

“Pinky promise, darling.”

Crowley kissed him, long and slow. “God, you’re perfect. Although…” Aziraphale hummed inquisitively. “I might have you boss me around again sometime.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “You liked that, did you?”

“I appreciate a man that knows what he wants. Especially when what he wants is me.”

“Oh, I do want you, darling. I want you very, very much. And I want you to have me too - but there’s one more thing I want…”

“Tell me. You can have anything.”

“I want this first,” Aziraphale said, then maneuvered his body so he could take Crowley’s cock into his mouth and begin to suck.

Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure, and he let himself be coasted away on sensation.

An hour later, they were both sated, they had showered together, gotten dressed, and now they were packing their clothes and toiletries, preparing to leave.

“I will be so glad to get back to London,” Aziraphale said, folding a pair of trousers.

“I will, too, really,” Crowley said, working on his own pajamas - that had been neglected the last couple of days. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought about the fact that he might not be wearing pajamas on a regular basis for the foreseeable future. “But I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about this place.”

“What kind of mixed feelings?”

“Well, coming to this place is what gave me you,” he said simply. “And to be honest, meeting you, getting to be with you - it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents are complete arseholes, you wouldn’t have needed me to come with you, and I never would have met you. So I hope you’ll take this in the spirit it’s intended when I tell you that I’m almost glad your parents are awful. I’m not glad you suffered -”

“I understand, darling. The fact that they treat me terribly was the catalyst for this whole thing.”

“Exactly,” Crowley said. “So I’m simultaneously sorry and very glad that they’re horrible people.”

Aziraphale smiled and leaned over to drop a kiss to Crowley’s lips that made his heart flutter. He wondered if it would always be like that. “I feel exactly the same, darling.”

Crowley smiled at him, just because he couldn’t help it, and then went on. “To be honest, even with your parents being awful, I still think this is the most wonderful five days of my life.”

“I agree with you,” Aziraphale said. “This has been a fantastic weekend, overall. But I’m quite anxious to get home, too.”

Crowley felt a little spike of anxiety. “So, uh, I was thinking about that. About us going home.”

“Yes?” Aziraphale said, still folding clothes neatly.

“And I was wondering whether you might be willing to let me take you to dinner tomorrow night.”

Aziraphale grinned without looking at him. “Oh, darling, you don’t want to do that. You’re bound to be sick of me.”

“I’m not. I’m not remotely close to being sick of you. I really want to take you to dinner. Or I could cook for you.”

“You cook?”

“A bit, yeah. And I’d love to cook for you, if you’re willing.”

“I think I could be persuaded.” Crowley felt sweet relief. “Does this preclude our date this weekend?”

“Oh, no, angel. It does not, not at all. In case I haven’t made it obvious enough, I would be happy to have a date with you every day.”

Aziraphale tittered. “Then you really would get sick of me.”

“I wouldn’t. I won’t. I promise. And I was - I was hoping that maybe you might come back to mine when we get to London.”

He looked at him, a little stunned. “Are you serious?”

“I’m completely serious. I just… I’m not ready to let go of you yet. Plus, I really want you to see my flat. Or we could go to your flat. I’d love to spend time there, too.”

Aziraphale was grinning. “I think I told you before that I wanted us to spend a lot of time at each other’s flats, but I didn’t think you would want to start that right away. I thought you’d want a breather.”

“No, I don’t. To be honest, I don’t know that I’ll ever want a breather. I kind of feel like going to work is going to be difficult now, because I’d rather be with you.” Aziraphale was beaming, and that heartened him. “At any rate, I would like to spend as much time with you as you’ll allow me. Lots of dates.”

He was granted a sweet kiss. “I’ll be happy to go on as many dates with you as you like, darling. But perhaps we could start on public dates this coming weekend? I have to confess that I’m a bit peopled-out after this excursion, and I’d like to not be around others for a while. Excepting you, of course.”

He was thrilled by that exemption. “I’d love that.”

“What would you like to do?”

“I’ll take you to do anything you want. We can go movies - or plays. We can go to museums, or to tour wineries…”

“We could have a picnic,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Dine at the Ritz.”

He beamed. “That’s exactly what I’d like, angel, yeah. Matter of fact, I was already thinking of the Ritz. I wanted to romance you a bit. Would you be amenable?”

“I’d be quite amenable.”

Crowley barely refrained from punching the air. “Fuck yeah! Alright. Perfect. That’s perfect. I’ll call and make a reservation for the weekend this afternoon. Is there any time that won't work for you?”

“I’m usually done at the shop by six, so anytime after that would be fine.”

“That’s fantastic, because I usually finish up at the garage around four, when I work on Saturdays, but I’ll need time to shower and change.”

Aziraphale granted him another kiss. “I’m looking forward to it, darling.” Then he zipped his suitcase closed. “Are you ready?”

Crowley zipped his own bag closed. “Ready, angel. Do we take these downstairs?”

“No, we’ll alert Furfur, and he’ll move them down to the cars for us. For now, our work is done, and we can go have breakfast.”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Crowley said, taking his hand, leaving the godawful rose room for the last time.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was very, very ready to get out of this house and back to London. He was also looking forward to starting a life with Crowley - if that’s what Crowley wanted. It seemed very much like he did. Aziraphale hadn’t forgotten Fergus’ advice, but he hadn’t had much time to think about it. To be honest, he hadn’t had any time to think about it. And really, he wanted to talk to Crowley about it. Wasn’t that what partners did? They talked to each other? That was exactly what he needed to do. And, to be honest, he was looking forward to having the conversation. It would be difficult to talk about this without telling Crowley everything - that he loved him and was ready to commit his life to him - but he could tell him some of it.

“Are you nervous?” Crowley asked from beside him, breaking into his thoughts.

“About what?”

“Well, I can’t imagine your parents are in a good mood today, after what happened at the wedding.”

Aziraphale felt his own mood sour just a bit, realizing that Crowley was exactly right and that they might be walking into a very tense situation. “No, I can’t imagine that they are. I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose perhaps we could leave now and head back to London… get breakfast on the road?”

“We could,” Crowley said. “But that would mean that you won’t get to say goodbye to Muriel. Or Anathema. Or anyone, really.”

“Oh, that’s another very good point,” he said, wondering what to do. “I suppose - I suppose we could just go to breakfast, and eat quickly? Say our goodbyes?”

“That’s fine with me, sweetheart. I’ll do anything you want me to, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay going in there.”

“I’m quite alright,” Aziraphale said, smiling and squeezing his hand. “I’ve got you in my corner don’t I?”

Crowley raised his hand and kissed it. “Always, angel.”

They walked a little farther, getting closer, and Aziraphale had another thought. “Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“When we go on our date -”

“The first of thousands,” Crowley volunteered.

Aziraphale smiled down at his feet. “Yes, I do hope so. But when we go on our date… would you consider coming to the shop to pick me up?”

“Sure, I’m happy to, but why?”

He was blushing, feeling bashful, still looking at his feet. “Because I would very much like to show you off to my staff. Nina in particular—she’s the manager of the cafe in the shop—will be quite impressed to see the handsome fellow I’ve landed. She and Maggie are always telling me to date, but I expect they’ll change their tune when they see you.”

Crowley beamed. “You want to show me off?”

“I do, yes. I’ve caught the attention of the sexiest, most charming, most wonderful man who ever lived, and I want all of my friends to know that. I want them to meet you, and I want you to meet them.”

“Well, that would be fine, but there’s a little problem,” Crowley said in that tone that indicated he was teasing.

“What’s that, dear?”

“I’d like you to come to my garage, if you’re willing, so I can show you off.”

Aziraphale grinned at him. “You would?”

“Yeah. I’d love that. I want my staff to meet you. I want to show them that I’m the luckiest bastard who ever drew breath, and the most amazing man who ever lived is mine.”

His eyes were soft. “I’d be honored to come, dear.”

Crowley pulled him closer by the hand to kiss him, and Aziraphale exulted in the kiss. He was going to get to start a life with Crowley immediately after breakfast. He didn’t know what that life was going to look like just yet, but he knew that he was very, very excited about it. And it was something of a novel feeling: Aziraphale had never been one to dread or fear the future (planned visits to his family notwithstanding), but he’d never been particularly excited about the future. Now, however, he was. And he couldn’t be happier about that.

He was smiling at Crowley when the kiss broke, and Crowley smiled down at him. Aziraphale was doing his best to show all of his emotions in his eyes, and he hoped that those emotions would garner a warm response from Crowley. He couldn't say them yet, but he wanted to, soon.

The look in Crowley’s eyes made him feel like he was in very good hands.

Just then, Furfur exited the breakfast room, and Crowley waved him over. Aziraphale was amused to see that Furfur seemed delighted. He could hardly blame him.

"Furfur, can you pull the car around front and get our bags? Aziraphale and I will be leaving shortly,” he said.

"Of course, sir."

"Thanks."

Crowley turned his eyes back to Aziraphale but Furfur coughed nervously.

"Er… Mr. Crowley. I have a message for you as well."

Crowley looked surprised when Furfur stepped forward and handed him a folded note. “I’ll never forget meeting you,” the butler said in an almost hushed voice, then darted off, blushing.

Aziraphale watched him go, amused and smirking, while Crowley looked nonplussed. “What the hell was that about?”

“I think, dear, if you look at the note, you’re going to find a little love confession,” Aziraphale said, barely containing his laughter.

Crowley opened the note, looking down at it, and then shook his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah, you called it. Apparently I charmed him and left him breathless.”

Aziraphale finally let the giggle out. “I can empathize completely.”

“Cheeky wretch,” Crowley complained, then dropped one more kiss to his lips. “Come on, angel.” He was pulling him towards the dining room. “The faster we eat, the faster we can get out of here.”

“Amen to that,” Aziraphale agreed, following him in.

When they rounded the corner into the dining room, Aziraphale was pleased to find his cousin and Newt just sitting down, as well as Muriel. He was even more pleased when he didn’t see his parents or anyone else he didn’t want to deal with. He hoped very much that he’d be able to sneak out of the house without talking to them at all.

“Ah!” Anathema said when she spotted them. “Here comes the rest of the kids table.”

“Yes, here we are,” Aziraphale agreed, smiling.

“Are you guys all okay?” Muriel asked, looking concerned. “I know last night was… a lot.”

Aziraphale accepted a quick kiss from Crowley, then the two of them went to prepare plates. “I should be asking all of you that. Crowley and I left right after the dramatics. What happened?”

Newt volunteered, “It was… dramatic. I think I saw your dad’s head spin around like a top emitting steam at one point.”

Muriel gave a little laugh. “I know just the moment you’re thinking of.” Then she sobered. “I tried to talk to Mother and Father after some of the guests left, but I wasn’t wanted. They spent hours holed up in the study with their solicitor.”

“Yes, I imagine they’d want to talk to a solicitor,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale asked, “Sandalphon is here? I’m glad I missed him yesterday. He’s even less pleasant than my parents.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” Crowley scoffed, making a rudimentary - and crude - statue with two peaches and a banana. “How late did you wait up for them?”

“Too late,” Muriel said. “Nanny came and got me at about one. She brought me cocoa and sent me off to bed.”

“What about you two?” Aziraphale asked Anathema and Newt.

Anathema shrugged. “I mean, I get why you all found it stressful - and that is entirely valid - but honestly, I thought it was amazing. Most eventful wedding I’ve ever been to. Even Newt was amused.”

“I didn’t say that. I said it was like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, and movies are entertaining.”

Newt didn’t respond to that. “I will tell you, though, that it made me much less intimidated by your family. And Ella’s. It’s hard to take people too seriously once you’ve seen them at their worst. I’m feeling a lot better about everything overall.”

Crowley sat down at the table next to Aziraphale with his plate of food and said, “I’m with Anathema. 10/10. No notes. Highly, highly entertaining.”

Muriel added, “I’m sure it’s a story the family will be telling—you know, unofficially when we want to gossip—for decades to come.”

“I rather think so,” Aziraphale agreed.

They hadn’t even picked up their forks to eat before Fergus came into the dining room - holding hands with Ella. Aziraphale felt a huge smile break across his face, feeling downright joyful.

“Good morning, Fergus,” Crowley said, a little mischievous.

“Oh, shut it,” Fergus snapped good-naturedly while Ella blushed.

The rest of the table chortled.

Once Fergus and Ella had gotten their food and sat down at the table, Fergus said, “I have to be honest that I’m surprised to see you here,” he motioned toward Aziraphale and Crowley, “I thought you might have skedaddled last night after all the drama, especially since you two were the scapegoats for it.”

Crowley snorted again. “I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind, but I’d had enough champagne that I wasn't good to hop in the car and drive. And I’ve got no willpower at all when it comes to this one,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled at him, then turned to Fergus. “I think we made the most of our time,” he said serenely.

“Oh, I just bet you did,” Anathema said, grinning.

“That pink room is hideous, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t grow on me,” Crowley said. “Good memories and all that shit.”

Ella looked confused. “Pink room?”

“My parents put Crowley and I in the rose room. The decorator was, apparently, a big fan of pink.”

Crowley gave Ella a little smirk. “I take it you two had a good night?”

Aziraphale caught Crowleys’ meaning clearly - and so did Fergus, who turned red - but Ella apparently didn’t. “Well, I mean. Yes. I honestly did. But all things considered, I feel rather bad about it. The rest of my family is furious… it was hours before Mother would consent to going to bed.”

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said. “I hope they didn’t monopolize your entire evening.”

“I was trying to be helpful, calm people down—help them understand it as a good thing in the long term. But there wasn’t much space for reason. There rarely is, when it comes to my mother.”

Muriel looked sad. “I understand that entirely, and I’m really sorry it’s happening to you.”

“Don’t be,” Ella said with a little smile, then she gave Fergus a warm look. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was a good night. Fergus kept me company the whole time, so even when they were throwing fits I had a buffer.”

Aziraphale looked over to see Fergus, who appeared to be chuffed to bits. He couldn’t have possibly been happier for his best friend.

“Yes, it’s been my experience that even during nightmarish times brought on by my family, having the right person beside me helps a great deal,” he said, reaching over and squeezing Crowley’s hand. Crowley squeezed back and Aziraphale couldn’t help it, he needed to lean over and steal a quick kiss.

“So what happens now?” Fergus asked.

Aziraphale was a little confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that there was a wedding. We all saw it. They’re legally married. Do they get divorced? Is an annulment possible?”

Anathema waved a fork airily. “The lawyers will figure it out. I’d bet they’re having a field day. Someone is promising their family a fancy vacation as we speak.”

Crowley turned to Ella. “Did you say your family stayed last night?”

“By the time everyone was calmed down enough to think about whether to stay or not it was too late to leave. But the rest of my family left first thing this morning.”

“And you stayed?” Aziraphale asked, wisely.

Ella blushed a little and cast a glance at Fergus. “I decided to stay, yes.”

Fergus was smiling brilliantly.

“You need a lift to London?” Crowley asked. “I have two extra seats in the Bentley.”

She was blushing more. “No, Fergus is going to be my ride.”

“I promised her the best sushi she’s ever had for dinner,” Fergus said, chuffed. “Trying to overwrite the awfulness of this wedding with a good memory.”

Aziraphale gave him a dubious look. “Are you taking her to Sushi So Good You’ll Sue Me? Because you know that the little place by my shop is better.”

Fergus rolled his eyes. “Just because you’re friends with the owner doesn’t make it better, Az.”

His smile was playfully condescending. “My dear boy, I’m friends with the owner because it’s the best sushi in London.”

Fergus snorted, and Crowley piped up. “Hey, I like sushi.”

Aziraphale gave him a grin. “I’d love to take you there, darling. Maybe it can be one of our dates.”

“Well, if you like it that much, and it’s near your flat, we could go as much as you wanted. It could become our place, or whatever.”

He felt like he could take flight. “But what if you don’t like it?”

Crowley was grinning, too. “Then we can find somewhere else to be our place.”

“You guys are so sweet,” Anathema said, “But why don’t you have a place you like to go together already, if you’ve been together since the summer?”

Aziraphale was caught off guard at that and had no idea how to respond. He and Crowley exchanged a glance, and it was clear that Crowley didn’t know what to say, either.

He was just about to say something, spin some kind of yarn, when he heard, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t our son and the plus one.”

All heads whirled around to find Derek coming in with Frances. He had a malevolent look on his face, and Frances looked smug. Aziraphale felt a cold sliver of fear pierce his heart.

“I think the term you’re looking for is ‘boyfriend’,” Crowley snarked, reaching over to cover Aziraphale’s hand.

Derek raised his brows, “Oh, you are? Because that’s not the understanding we’ve come to.”

Aziraphale didn’t know what was going on, but he sensed danger. And he knew he’d have to play along for a moment to figure out what they were getting at. So he sighed. “And what is that, then?”

“We know, Aziraphale, about your friend.”

“Boyfriend,” Crowley asserted.

Frances ignored him. “And his job.”

“He’s a mechanic. I told you that from the beginning.”

Derek had a look on his face that suggested he was about to deal a devastating blow - and was happy about it. “We know he’s an escort, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale was puzzled. “He’s my escort to this wedding, yes. What’s your point?”

“Not that kind of escort,” Derek snapped. “He’s a prostitute.”

The next sound was Crowley bursting into raucous laughter. Aziraphale was stunned, as were everyone else at the table, save Fergus, who looked moderately amused - and a lot horrified.

“I don’t know what you’re finding so funny,” Frances snapped.

“You two are!” Crowley laughed. “Honestly, you guys are a fucking laugh riot. It’s even funnier because you’re serious about this.”

“Are you or are you not a male escort?” Derek demanded.

“So what if I am?” Crowley challenged, still smiling. “Sex work is perfectly legitimate.”

Derek pointed at him accusingly. “Do you see? He doesn’t deny it!”

“Because it’s ridiculous. I’m not an escort.”

“I told you,” Aziraphale said. “He’s a mechanic.”

“You don’t even own a car,” his father snapped.

“But I do,” Fergus volunteered. “And he’s worked miracles on it. Plus, they told you from the beginning that that’s how they met - through me.”

Frances sniffed. “I never would have figured you to be the type to pimp, Fergus.”

Aziraphale was deeply, deeply offended, and could see that Fergus was, too. “I’m not, and you know it. Their meeting was entirely on the up and up.”

Frances and Derek turned away from him, dismissing him utterly, and turned to Aziraphale. “We know, Aziraphale. There’s no reason for you to keep up this charade.”

“And what charade is that, Mother? What do you know? Because it seems to me that you’ve gotten some poor information.”

“We know that the two of you have never mentioned each other on any social media. In fact, you were not even connected on social media at all until approximately two weeks ago.”

Crowley gave a little shrug. “My angel isn’t much into social media. Doesn’t make me an escort.”

They ignored him. “And we also know that you made a rather large withdrawal on the very day the two of you connected. Five thousand pounds.”

“He is only here for your money, Aziraphale,” Frances said.

“That’s a bald-faced lie,” Crowley said flatly.

“Uncle D, they’re legit. Their auras are both brilliant magenta-“

“Not now, Anathema,” Derek snapped.

Muriel weighed in. “But father, can’t you see how happy-“

“It’s a facade, Muriel!”

Now it was Fergus’ turn. “I know these two better than anyone -“

“Your input is not welcome, Mr. Fitzgerald!” Frances snapped.

Aziraphale said, “What makes you think that he’s an escort?”

"It's obvious--"

"No,” Aziraphale cut them off. “You stepped in here clearly thinking you'd got the dirt on him. So tell us. Share your findings with us. What makes you think he's an escort?"

“We hired an investigator,” Derek said, drawing himself up to his full height.

Crowley scoffed. “Well that was a waste of money.”

“Was it?” Frances challenged.

Derek looked unbearably smug. “We know everything.”

Crowley scoffed again. “You don’t know shit from shinola.”

“The money that Aziraphale withdrew was for you, you money-grubbing whore.”

“And you earned it, didn’t you?” Frances said in the most unbelievably snarky tone Aziraphale had ever heard. “Breaking an antique bed!”

Aziraphale sensed Crowley get tense, and he laid a hand on his leg, although he was boiling with rage himself. “What makes you say that? That withdrawal could have been for anything.”

“It was made on the same day that you and this man connected on social media, and that your telephone numbers started to appear in each other’s records.”

“So obviously, the two are correlated.”

Aziraphale turned to Crowley. “Are you with me for my money?”

Crowley’s eyes were stormy. “Nope. Got plenty of my own.”

“Well that takes care of that, then, doesn’t it?” Aziraphale said simply.

“You are being obstinate,” Derek accused. “just tell us the truth!”

He turned back to his parents. “I am telling you the truth. Crowley and I are together and very, very happy. If you had done the research you claim to, you would know that Crowley owns his garage outright. He has owned it for nearly four years, and he works there full time.”

“If I was a money grubbing whore, as you say, I could have just taken the ten grand that you tried to bribe me with to abandon Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide and he felt like he’d been dunked in a vat of ice water. “You offered him money?!” he demanded.

“We did, yes,” Frances said.

“Ten thousand pounds?! Is that all I’m worth to you?!”

“I eventually offered him fifty thousand,” Derek said.

“That does not make it better, Father,” Aziraphale near shouted, his voice trembling with anger.

“How in the world is that different from what you did? Paying a whore to pretend to be your partner! But then, that’s the best we could expect from you. You’ve been a disappointment since birth -”

The next thing Aziraphale knew, Crowley was standing up, his hands clenched beside him, his face red. “Listen to me, you old fart. I have had it up to fucking here with you and your bullshit. You want the truth? I’ll tell you the fucking truth. Aziraphale was afraid to come back to this hellhole without a boyfriend, after he’d told you he had one. He knows perfectly well that you hold your nose when you think of him being gay, but the idea of him being single too was too much for you. So he asked Fergus to help him find someone to pretend to be his boyfriend. And that’s how he met me.”

“So you admit it!” Frances crowed. “He paid you to be here!”

“He didn’t pay me a fucking pound,” Crowley snarled. “He offered me money and I turned it down. Just like I did your money.”

“Why?” Muriel asked. Aziraphale was surprised - he’d honestly forgotten she was in the room.

“Because I liked him. I wanted to see him, to spend time with him. So I agreed to come to this fucking place and subject myself to your shitty attitudes.”

“So you weren’t a couple until -” Anathema asked.

“We became a couple on Saturday,” Aziraphale replied.

“But we are a fucking couple,” Crowley said, his voice fierce. “Your son somehow, miraculously, turned out to be the best, most wonderful human alive. Despite being raised by the two most horrible people I’ve ever met, he is the warmest, funniest, kindest, most amazing man in the world. I intend to spend the rest of my life doing two things - first praising some higher power every single day for giving me this man, and two, making him deliriously happy in whatever way I can. I’m going to spend the next six thousand fucking years showing him how madly in love with him I am.”

Aziraphale gasped, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. He wasn’t the only one: nearly everyone at the table gasped, except Fergus. Aziraphale didn’t notice any of them, though, he had his eyes locked on Crowley, who still looked to be in attack mode, ready to eviscerate his stunned parents.

Slowly, Aziraphale got to his feet. “Crowley, darling?” he said softly.

Crowley turned to him, his eyes still flashing a little, but clearly less angry. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Ducks.”

Crowley looked at him for just a moment, and Aziraphale watched as all the anger faded away. He felt tears prick in his eyes, and the next second, Crowley had grabbed him, was kissing him almost desperately.

They kissed for a few moments, and Aziraphale’s heart was singing with joy. He had never been so happy as he was in that moment, and he wanted it to go on fore-

“If you are quite done mauling my son in this grotesque display,” Frances sneered.

Crowley shot them two fingers with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Aziraphale. “Fuck off,” he said, making Frances gasp, then, unconcerned, he turned to Aziraphale. “This isn’t a fuckery. None of anything with you has been a fuckery. And I am, angel. I’m in love with you, I want to spend eternity with you, and I’m so in love with you, I feel like I’m going to explode.”

Aziraphale felt a tear splash onto his cheek, then he hauled Crowley into the tightest, warmest hug he’d ever given anyone in his life. His exhalations were shaky, because he was trembling with emotion. “I love you,” he said into Crowley’s shoulder. “I love you, I love you so much…”

Crowley pulled back and smiled at him. “Yeah?”

He nodded, eyes full of tears again. “I do, yes.”

Then he was being kissed, hard, with so much exuberance that Crowley was bending him backwards, like a damsel. Aziraphale didn’t mind at all, he was so happy he’d thought he’d explode.

“He doesn’t love you, Aziraphale! It’s all a lie! He only wants what you can give him!”

Crowley broke the kiss and turned to Frances and Derek. “The only thing your son has that I want is his heart.”

“That’s already yours, darling,” Aziraphale said, beaming.

“Right, then, I’m set,” Crowley said, his smile as bright as Aziraphale’s. “Do you have anything else you need us to do, angel? Or can we get the fuck out of here.”

“I would very much like to get out of here, please,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley grabbed his hand. “Right. We’re out. Thanks for your hospitality, and thanks for being such flaming, prolapsed arseholes that Aziraphale felt like he needed to hire someone to be here. Wouldn’t have met the love of my life if you two hadn’t been such rancid fucking twats.”

Derek’s face was purple. “Think carefully, Aziraphale. If you leave with him, you are no longer welcome in this home! You’ll never see your family again!”

Aziraphale looked at Anathema and Muriel. “I love you both very much, and I hope this won’t change anything.”

“Not for me!” Anathema chirped.

“Me neither,” Muriel said, while Derek fumed.

“I think you’ll find, Father, that with the two of them and Crowley, I have all the family I need.”

“Oi!” Fergus said, grinning.

“Yes, of course, and Fergus.”

“Damned right.”

“You’ll regret this!” Derek blustered. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life!”

“No, I’m making the best move I’ve ever made,” Aziraphale said.

“Come on, angel. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“Wait! I’m coming with you!” Muriel said, getting to her feet quickly.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Derek demanded.

“I’m leaving. This house has never been safe for queer people, and that has been made even more abundantly clear to me in the last few days. I want no part of it.”

“What the devil does it matter to you? You’re not queer!”

Muriel straightened her shoulders. “I am, actually. I’m non-binary.”

Frances gasped. “You’re not.”

“Yes, Mother. I think I am. I’m pretty sure I am. I’m not making any drastic changes at the moment, but I very well might in the future. And I know I’m aromantic and asexual.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m queer.”

“Oh, Muriel, please don’t say such things!”

She ignored them. “At any rate, I would like to explore my gender and sexuality, and I can’t do so safely with you two as my parents. So I’m leaving - provided Aziraphale and Crowley will give me a ride,” she said hopefully, looking at the two of them.

“Of course we will,” Crowley said, before Aziraphale got a chance to speak. “Plenty of room.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling.

“If you walk out that door, Muriel, you will be homeless! I will not contribute to your upkeep if you are going to do such things!” Derek threatened. “I will have the locks changed on your flat, I will cut off your funds -”

“You can stay at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale offered. “And I won’t let you go hungry.”

She gave him a radiant smile, then turned and waved at her parents. “Goodbye!”

“Muriel!” Derek ranted as she left the room ahead of Aziraphale and Crowley. “You are making the biggest mistake of your life! You will never be welcome in this house again, do you hear me!?”

Aziraphale paused at the door to the dining room and turned to look at his parents. “Mother, Father, you have three children, and all three of those children are queer. Instead of accepting and embracing them, you have continued to be bigots - on top of being overbearing, imperious, cruel, and frankly hateful. And now, in the span of fourteen hours, all three of your children are walking out of your life.”

“You’ll be back!” Derek shouted, while Frances cried into her hands.

“Perhaps, but I sincerely doubt it. I love you both, but I love myself more, and I am going to keep myself safe by not interacting with you until you change your ways. In the meantime, you can sit alone in this big, cold, empty house and think about how you could have had a happy family, been surrounded by love and warmth, but you chased the only people who ever loved you away.”

Crowley tugged on his hand gently. “Come on, angel. Let’s go.”

Aziraphale gave a little nod, then turned back to the people who were still in the room. “Anathema, I’ll see you soon. Newt, it was very nice to meet you. Ella, you too. I look forward to spending more time with both of you. Fergus, call me when you get back to London. And Mother? Father?” They looked at him, Frances with red eyes and Derek with blazing ones. “I will be happy to take your call if you ever see the error of your ways. If you don’t, then this is goodbye. I love you.”

Then he let himself be swept away, towards the car that was waiting.

Chapter Text

Crowley was feeling a lot of things as he exited the lift with Aziraphale, going towards the door to his flat. He was very excited to show Aziraphale where he lived - and where, he hoped, Aziraphale would spend a great deal of time. He was also a little bit anxious about showing his home to his love - the brief glimpse of Aziraphale’s flat had looked very different from his, and he hoped that wasn’t a problem. But more than anything else, he was relieved. He was relieved that the weekend was over and he was back on ‘safe ground’ - but he was even more relieved that Aziraphale was with him. There was a part of Crowley that wondered if the last few days had been some kind of massive hallucination, but the fact that Aziraphale was walking beside him down the corridor towards his door meant that this was real. Aziraphale was real. His relationship with Aziraphale was real. And he was happier than he could ever possibly express about that.

He came to his door and pulled out his key, shooting Aziraphale a nervous smile. “Here we are,” he said. “I hope you don’t hate it.”

“Why would I hate it?” Aziraphale asked, head tilted to the side.

“Because it’s not much like your flat,” he said, then opened the door. He held it open for Aziraphale to pass, his heart rate slightly accelerated. Please let this go well.

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said when he stepped into the flat, looking around. “It’s… it’s lovely.”

Crowley shut the door. “Do you really think so? I know it’s a little… stark.”

“No, it’s very you,” Aziraphale said, looking around the lounge. For the first time in a long time, Crowley tried to think about how it might look to someone who had never seen it. The floor was grey hardwood, and the walls were also grey. The furniture was comfy black leather, and there were a lot of plants sitting around.

“It, uh, it doesn’t have a lot of color,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale smiled at him, then dropped a kiss to his lips. “I think it’s wonderful. Will you show me the rest?”

“Yeah, sure,” Crowley said, shouldering his bag a little more securely. “This is the kitchen and dining room,” he said, gesturing towards the indicated rooms. “The bathroom is the first door on the left, here, and this is the plant room.”

Aziraphale gave him a curious look. “The plant room?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t have a greenhouse or anything, but I have this room.” He opened the door to the plant room and let Aziraphale step inside. He was pleased when Aziraphale looked almost wondering, wandering from plant to plant, touching them lightly.

“My darling,” he cooed, “They’re beautiful...”

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” Crowley cautioned.

Aziraphale gave him a smile. “Is this more of your ridiculous penchant for being mean to plants?”

“It’s not ridiculous. Look how verdant they are!” he insisted, also smiling.

“They are likely so beautiful because you take exemplary care of them.”

“Yeah, which includes yelling at them to keep them in line.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You’re so silly, dear. Can I see the bedroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Right this way,” he said, and took Aziraphale’s hand, leading him down the corridor. “This is the second bedroom -”

“Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I want to see your bedroom.”

“Ngk. Okay,” he said, grinning. It looked as if he was about to get laid - and he couldn’t be anything but happy about that. He took Aziraphale’s hand and led him down to the end of the hall, where his bedroom was. “Ah, here it is. I’m sorry, I didn’t tidy.”

“It’s wonderful,” Aziraphale said. “Can I put my bag down?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, make yourself at home.”

Aziraphale kissed him lightly. “Thank you, darling,’ he said, then walked towards the bed. Crowley was thrilled to bits when he just claimed a side of the bed and put his bag down on the chair. Crowley turned around to drop off his bag, wondering if he had lube on hand or if he needed to find some, but was distracted from that when he heard a soft whump from behind him.

He turned around to find that Aziraphale had flopped down on the bed, face first, after toeing off his shoes.

Crowley beamed at him as he wiggled around and made himself comfortable, pulling the blanket at the foot of his bed over himself. It seemed like the best idea in the world to join him, so he toed off his own shoes and went to crawl up on the bed next to the man he loved.

In a couple of minutes, they were situated so they were both lying on their sides, facing each other. Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, and Crowley smiled back.

“Hiya, angel.”

“Hello, darling,” Aziraphale replied.

Crowley reached for his hand and took it, kissing it.

“We made it,” Aziraphale said.

“We did. We’re home.”

Aziraphale’s eyes did something Crowley couldn’t parse - but he was very much looking forward to the day when he knew all of Aziraphale’s tells. “This isn’t home for me, darling.”

Crowley swallowed hard again. Here it was. The moment. “But I’d like it to be,” he said. “And that’s something we need to talk about. But first, are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m utterly exhausted, and a little afraid of what you’re going to tell me in this conversation, but largely exhilarated. We escaped, Crowley. I escaped!”

Crowley grinned at him. “I’m so incredibly proud of you for making a stand, angel.”

“Well, it was an easy choice, really. One that I should have made years ago. But I’ve made it now, and I’m nothing but happy about it.”

“Muriel seemed happy about it, too.”

“Yes, she did.”

“They, sweetheart. They said they wanted to try they/them pronouns in the car.”

“They did, didn’t they?” Aziraphale looked fretful. “I do hope they won’t be offended if I don’t get it right all the time. I’ve known them as a ‘she’ for their entire life…”

“Nah. Muriel doesn’t strike me as the type to cut off your head about something like that. Besides, they told us they weren’t making any real radical life changes yet, they just wanted to try out they/them with friends and family for now.”

“Well, I’m happy to do anything I can for them.”

Crowley grinned. “I know you are, and that’s one of the most amazing things about you, sweetheart. You really do have a heart as big as the world.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Aziraphale argued. “But if I may divert your attention…”

“You can divert it anywhere you want, and I’ll follow.”

“We really do need to talk,” Aziraphale said.

He raised a playful brow, although his heart was thundering. “Not breaking up with me already, are you?”

“Not for a hundred million pounds, darling. I waited my whole life for a love like this. I’m not letting it go until I have to.”

Crowley darted forward and kissed him lightly. “Good, because I don’t want to go. And I love you, too.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, then his face fell just a little. “But… Fergus said some things to me -”

“He said them to me, too,” Crowley said.

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he told me the same thing he told you - that he was happy for us, over the moon, but he wanted us to be cautious before we made any sort of legal entanglements we couldn’t easily get out of. He wanted us to wait a while. Not to make any moves that can’t be unmade.”

“And he’s not wrong,” Aziraphale said. “But I’m not letting go of you, either. I want to be with you. I don’t want to walk, I want to run.”

“I know, angel. And I do, too. But how many people have you known that rushed into things, no less sure than we are, and regretted it later? Because I know at least six. Twelve if you count both members of the couple.”

“I don’t believe that will be us,” Aziraphale said steadfastly.

Crowley kissed his hand. “Nobody ever does, angel. We really do need to be cognizant of that.” Aziraphale gave a sigh that seemed disgruntled, and then Crowley swallowed and plowed ahead. “But I’ll tell you something else…”

“What’s that, love?”

“I never want to wake up another morning of my life without you beside me. Never again.”

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile. “I don’t want to wake up without you, either. But how are we going to do this?”

“I've been thinking since Fergus spoke to me about it.”

“Tell me your thoughts, darling.”

“I keep my flat, you keep yours. We alternate-- sometimes we stay here, sometimes we stay at yours. If Muriel's staying with you it won't be hard for them to keep the place lived in."

Aziraphale seemed to be thinking. "And she - they will probably appreciate having the space to themself sometimes."

"Too right. About time they had space and got out from under those wankers. God, how did you two end up so great, growing up under all that?”

He grinned. “Nanny and Francis helped.” Then he gave a wistful sigh. “I will miss them…”

"You can write to them, angel. You can still see them. And if something happens and they have to move, I know you'll help them land on their feet."

“Too right I will,” Aziraphale said, smiling, but looking determined. “Although I don’t know how either of them would adapt to living in the city. Maybe we could set them up with a cottage? Perhaps the south downs?”

“Could do,” Crowley said, then swallowed his nerves again. “But, I, um, I had something else to say.”

“You can tell me anything, my love,” Aziraphale said, stroking his thumb across the back of Crowley’s.

"So… yeah. I’ve been thinking about this. It's just us, here. No posturing, nobody we're trying to defend, or defend ourselves from. And I wanted to say this: Aziraphale Eastgate, I haven't fallen this hard since... well maybe since ever, but at least since I was fourteen. You are bright and you are kind and you are really, really pretty,” Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley went on, “and I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Aziraphale looked radiant. “I’m in love with you, too, darling.”

“Good, then that will make this next part easier. If I had my fondest wish, you and I would respect Fergus’ request and not make any legal moves for, I don’t know, let’s say a year. And then we can decide from there what we want to do. So I guess what I’m asking is: will you navigate the next year with me before we make any irrevocable legal entanglements?"

He was beaming. “Of course I will, darling. I’d love nothing more than to run out the clock so we can make some big moves.”

Crowley thought he was going to take flight. “Perfect. That’s perfect. As long as you know up front that I am going to ask you to have me, probably in exactly a year. And if you will, I am going to marry you.”

“I think you’ll get the answer you’re hoping for… but I must stipulate that we will not be doing it at Tadfield.”

"Oh fuck no, anywhere but there,” Crowley said, his heart singing. Then Aziraphale yawned, and he said, “You really are tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“I am, yes. It’s been a wonderful weekend, overwhelmingly wonderful… but it was also somewhat up and down, emotionally.”

“It was, yes,” he said and pulled Aziraphale into his arms. “Sleep, sweetheart. Sleep here while I hold you, and we’ll talk more when you wake up.”

Aziraphale snuggled into his arms. “I love you, Crowley.”

“I love you, too, angel,” he said, then sighed happily and drifted to sleep with a smile on his face.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure where he was when he woke up, but it all came flooding back to him when he realized Crowley was holding him. He was back in London, at Crowley’s flat - soon to also be his flat, in a way. They had made it through the weekend, and had, in fact, gone from strangers to lovers over that weekend. He and Crowley were properly together, and unless something very strange happened, they were going to be together forever.

He sighed happily and relaxed into Crowley’s embrace, putting his hand in Crowley’s and lacing their fingers.

Immediately, Crowley started kissing his shoulders. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Aziraphale smiled at nothing, then glanced towards the window. “It’s starting to look more like dusk,” he said.

“Well, yes, but ‘good dusk’ doesn’t sound as good.” Aziraphale tittered. “How did you sleep?”

“That was a wonderful and very refreshing nap. I needed it tremendously.”

He was back to kissing his shoulders. “Good. I like having you here. It feels like I’ve just been waiting for you to get here.”

“It feels like that to me, too, except with my life and not my flat.”

Crowley chuckled. “Love you, angel.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“So,” Crowley said in a silky voice. “We have this flat all to ourselves… there’s nobody that will be listening outside of the door…”

“Oh, won’t that be a novel experience,” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley moved his hips against Aziraphale’s arse, so he could feel how hard he was. “We don’t have anywhere to be for… fourteen hours. And speaking of hours, it’s been about ten since I had you.”

Aziraphale giggled again. “Why, Mr. Crowley, are you suggesting that we fool around?”

He was nibbling his neck now, grinding his hips against Aziraphale’s bum. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Well sussed.”

Aziraphale rhythmically rolled his hips backwards, grinding against Crowley. “Well, I would very much like for us to make love. As you said, it’s been quite a while.”

“Mhm,” Crowley agreed. He released Aziraphale’s hand and got to work on the waistcoat Aziraphale was wearing. “It has. And I think I need to have you.”

Aziraphale rolled over and kissed Crowley, letting his tongue slip into his lover’s mouth without hesitation, seeking to taste him. Crowley seemed energized by the kiss and hauled Aziraphale closer, so their bodies were flush. Aziraphale also got his arms around Crowley and ground against him, letting the man he loved feel how aroused he made him. Crowley made a little noise into his mouth and let his hand slide down to Aziraphale’s arse, giving him a squeeze. They kissed for a couple of minutes, until Crowley broke it and started nibbling at his neck.

“Darling?” Aziraphale said, his head thrown back so Crowley had more space to kiss.

“Yeah?” Crowley replied, nibbling.

“I think that we should call a halt to the current proceedings.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I want you naked. And I feel certain that you also want me naked.”

“Goddamn right I do,” Crowley growled. He planted another kiss on Aziraphale’s mouth, slow and deliberate, and put his hands to work removing clothing while he kissed him.

They ended up rolling around on the bed for a few minutes, their hands and mouths very active on each other, until they were both barechested and trousers had been unfastened. At that point, Aziraphale found himself rolled over onto his back, with Crowley covering him - not only with his body, but with his kisses. He was nibbling Aziraphale’s chest, occasionally biting, while he worked to divest Aziraphale of his trousers. Aziraphale was nearly drunk with the touches.

“Darling,” he whined, running his hands all over the parts of Crowley he could touch, sliding them down the back of his jeans to touch his arse - and push them down.

“You know something we haven’t had a lot of, angel?” Crowley asked as he teased Aziraphale’s nipple.

“What’s that?”

“We haven’t had much time.” He was pulling Aziraphale’s trousers down his thighs, running his hands back up Aziraphale’s skin. “I have been dying to take you apart. I want to know how to make your body sing for me,” he murmured just before he nipped Aziraphale’s nipple, making him make a noise. Crowley’s grin was immediate and wicked. “Just like that. Very good.”

“Crowley, my love, I’m so eager for you…”

“You’re gonna have me,” he promised, kissing his way lower, to where Aziraphale’s cock was begging for attention. “You’re going to have all of me… But for the moment, I want to study you.”

Aziraphale was thrilled - and squirming under his hands and mouth. “Oh, my, darling. I get to be your test subject?”

Crowley grinned up at him from the vicinity of his navel. “It was supposed to sound sexy, angel.”

“Believe me, it did. But may I raise a counterpoint?”

“Of course.”

“We have the rest of our lives to learn each other. It doesn’t all have to be today. And to be quite honest, I’m afraid I’m going to go up in flames if you don’t fuck me as soon as humanly possible.”

Crowley was nipping and teasing Aziraphale’s thighs, and Aziraphale was completely torn about where to put his hands, either on Crowley’s head, fisting in his hair, or on his clothes, removing them.

“You want me to fuck you, angel?”

“I do, yes,” Aziraphale said, trying very hard not to whine. “But I need you to take off your pants, first…”

Crowley kissed his way back up Aziraphale’s body while he whimpered and moaned, then kissed him slowly, lingeringly. “How about if I take off the rest of my clothes right now, and you reach over into that top drawer there and pull out some lube.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Aziraphale said eagerly, rolling away immediately - kicking off his trousers as he went - and opening the top drawer of the bedside table. The lubricant was right on the top, there - but underneath it, there was a wide assortment of various sex toys.

Aziraphale smiled wickedly. “Well, well, well… what have we here?”

“My toys,” Crowley replied, working on his jeans.

He pulled out a large, purple dildo and smiled at it before he turned to Crowley. “Darling?”

“Yes?”

“I have a request.”

Crowley was struggling to get his jeans off his legs. “I’ll give you anything. You know that.”

“I want you to fuck me with this while you suck me.”

He raised a brow and grinned. “You do, do you?”

Aziraphale nodded, biting his lip a little. “I’d really like that. Would you? Please?”

Crowley was finally successful in getting his jeans off, then used his hand to roll Aziraphale onto his back, kisssing him. “I’ll do anything you want, angel. Anything at all, for the rest of my life.”

“Please, darling… get me ready with this dildo, and then fuck me senseless.”

“Anything you want,” Crowley said, taking the dildo and spending a moment lubing it up. While he was doing that, Aziraphale reached out and wrapped his hand around Crowley’s cock, stroking him.

“May I ask something else, dear?”

“Tell me,” Crowley said, massaging his lubed fingers on Aziraphale’s arsehole.

He let out a moan when Crowley breached him with first one finger, and then two. “Keep your cock in reach, please, so I can play with you.”

“Gladly,” Crowley said, nibbling and licking Aziraphale’s cock, poising the slick dildo at Aziraphale’s entrance. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, please…”

Crowley gently pushed the cock into Aziraphale’s arse, and Aziraphale let out a broken noise. He bit his lip while Crowley started fucking him with it slowly, easily, then an absolutely filthy moan when Crowley took his cock into his mouth.

“Darling,” he purred, winding his fingers of one hand through Crowley’s hair while Crowley bobbed on him and slid the dildo in and out at a very leisurely pace. His other hand was stroking Crowley, and trying very hard to keep the pace, but not doing as good a job as he’d like. “Oooh, my love… your mouth feels so good on me… “

Aziraphale rocked his head back on his shoulders, biting his lip and closing his eyes, letting himself coast on the feeling of Crowley’s mouth on his cock. It felt amazingly good, so hot and wet - and the dildo was slowly, gently massaging his prostate. He was going to have this for years to come. Oh, God, it was almost too much to consider.

“Ooh, yes,” Aziraphale cooed, now petting Crowley’s head. “You are so good to me, darling, so wonderful. You are simply the best cocksucker I’ve ever had. Do you like it? Do you like sucking my cock?”

Crowley made an ‘mhm’ sound around the cock in his mouth, and continued to suck him masterfully.

He was slow and deliberate, driving Aziraphale mad, and Aziraphale couldn’t help his sweet, broken pleading. No matter how he begged, though, Crowley kept up the almost glacial pace he had started with. It was the sweetest, most pleasant torture he’d ever experienced, and he never wanted it to end. But at the same time, he wanted more. He was forced to let go of Crowley’s cock because he was afarid he would hurt him, and fisted his hands in the sheets, letting himself be swept away.

“Crowley, darling, please,” he pleaded, writhing around on the bed, properly overstimulated. “Please, please fuck me, God you’re so much better than any dildo… I want your cock in me… please, I need you between my legs, I need you in my body...”

He wasn’t sure he was making sense, but it seemed Crowley had heard him. He pulled off Aziraphale’s cock with one long suck, and then slowly withdrew the dildo, moving to take his place between Aziraphale’s thighs. “You want my cock, angel?” he asked as he lined up.

“Yes, yes, please,” he begged, totally mindless, then he groaned when he felt Crowley breach.

Crowley was peppering his face and neck with kisses while he sank deeper. “Love you, angel. Love you so much… love you…”

“I - I love you, too, darling. Oh, God… Please more…”

“How’s that feel, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, somewhat breathless.

“It’s so good,” Aziraphale whined, amongst whimpering noises. His hands were clutching Crowley for dear life, like he was afraid he’d get away. “Oh, please…”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he crowed, still rocking into him slowly.

Aziraphale’s cock was trapped between their bodies, being rubbed by the motion of Crowley fucking him slowly, and the friction was driving him mad. He had his arms and legs wrapped around Crowley, clinging to him desperately, while Crowley continued to kiss him and make love to him.

“Gonna marry you, angel. I never want to be without you… There’s no way I’ll ever give this up. I love you…”

“Crowley, please, please… you feel so right over me, in me… nothing has ever felt better… oh God...”

He felt himself climbing inexorably, sliding closer to orgasm while he begged for more. Crowley was kissing his neck, his shoulders, professing his love, and Aziraphale wanted to tell him he loved him, too, but he felt utterly mindless, like all his senses were -

The orgasm hit him suddenly, making him shout and dig his fingers into Crowley’s back. Aziraphale felt as if his whole body was on fire in the best possible way, every cell was exploding, and he knew that his noises were making no sense. But he was helpless to stop them. He just cried out and begged while Crowley murmured love and abject filth in his ear as he came and came.

But Crowley didn’t seem inclined to speed up. He kept rocking into Aziraphale at the same slow pace, and every stroke of his cockhead against Aziraphale’s prostate was driving him even more crazy.

“Love you, angel. Love you so much. And you feel so good around me. Did you know? I could fuck you like this for hours. And you know what? I’m going to. I’m going to fuck you just like this every chance I get for the rest of my life. I’m going to make you forget any other man ever existed. You’re going to beg me to fuck you, to play you like an instrument - and I’m going to oblige. Because I love you so fucking much.”

Every orgasm Aziraphale had ever had had not lasted long, but right now, with Crowley fucking him slowly, he still felt like he was falling apart. He had lost all cognitive function and was merely a receptacle for Crowley’s slow taking. He loved it, but he was a little afraid he was going to die. And his mouth was unable to do anything but make gutteral noises, so he couldn’t tell Crowley. He wanted to beg Crowley for more - to stop - he didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew he needed something... he felt like he was going to faint… his eyes were closed, but he felt whiteness pressing in on him…

And then the whiteness overtook him.

When he came to a moment later, Crowley was nuzzling him, getting into position beside him, wrapping Aziraphale up in his arms like an octopus. “Love you, angel. Love you so much,” he murmured between kisses.

Aziraphale wanted to tell him he loved him too, but at the moment, he was entirely focused on not fainting again. He felt Crowley kissing his cheek, his neck, whispering praise, but Aziraphale felt like all his muscles were shaking uncontrollably.

“C- Crowley?” he managed after a couple of minutes.

He felt Crowley smile against his neck. “You kind of went away there for a second, angel. I was worried about you.”

He was still out of breath. “That was - that was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was.” His voice changed into concern. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You’re shaking.”

“I think - I think I’m going to be shaking for a while, darling.”

Crowley chuckled, low and dark. “Good,” he said just before he nibbed Aziraphale’s earlobe.

Aziraphale was gaining control over his body slowly. He realized that Crowley had pulled the duvet over them and was cuddling him, and he managed to raise a hand and rub Crowley’s arm, thrown across him.

“Did you - did you come?” he asked, then paused. “Mmm, I can feel that you did.”

“You bet I did. That was the best orgasm of my life.”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh, his chest still heaving. “Yes, I can say the same.”

Crowley chuckled again and kissed his ear before he settled in, snuggling him. “We can do that any time you want to, angel. You just say the word and we’ll do that.”

“Darling, I don’t think I’m strong enough to come that way very often.”

“Well, we’ll just build your endurance,” Crowley teased, then kissed his cheek again. “I love you.”

“My darling, there are no words for how much I love you.” He gave another breathy laugh. “I’ve gone to church for most of my life, but I just saw God for the first time.”

Crowley laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely keeping you for the rest of my life. Nobody’s ever told me that before.”

“Mmm, you’re going to keep me? I’ll be a kept man?”

“Could if you wanted to. But I know you don’t want to.”

“I don’t, no. But I intend to make sure my work schedule matches yours.”

“Mmm, schedules. It’s the minutiae of life that really gets me turned on, angel.”

Aziraphale had a sudden thought pop into his mind. “Darling?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“We need to discuss the money.”

“What money?”

“The money this whole thing started with.”

Crowley raised his head. “You want to talk about that now?”

“I feel like it should be addressed -”

“I’m not taking it, sweetheart. I already told you I’m not. What would you even be paying me for?”

“I’d happily pay you just to spend time around me.”

“Well, you’re not going to. I never intended to take the money and I sure don’t intend to take it now that I’ve found the love of my life.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I love you, too, darling. But what should I do with it?”

“If I get a vote, I think it should be seed money.”

“Seed money for what?”

“For the wedding I’m going to ask you to have with me a year from today. We could both throw money in a dedicated account, and then have the wedding of your dreams.”

“The wedding of my dreams simply involves you, my love.”

“I’m going to be there. You can count on it. And you can also count on me asking you to be my husband a year from today.”

“Oh, darling, I can’t wait.”

Chapter Text

18 January, 2025

It was cold outside, and dreary, but Crowley had always heard that rain on one’s wedding day was good luck. To be honest, he didn’t really think that Fergus and Ella needed much luck, but he was happy for anything that would make their lives better.

He had been dressed and ready for a while, and was serving as kind of an emissary between the bride and groom. He’d been passing along messages all day - some important, some really dumb - but he was happy to serve his friends in any way he could. He loved that they were in love and starting their future together. It made him unspeakably happy.

It had been a while since he’d last laid eyes on his own love, though, and he was excited to be going back to the groom’s room, where Aziraphale and Fergus would be. He’d passed along a message to Ella about Fergus’ aunt needing a different seat at the reception, and with that message successfully delivered, he was headed back to see Aziraphale and Fergus.

Crowley opened the door to the dressing room in the church, and his face broke into a smile when he saw Aziraphale coming out from behind the screen, fiddling with the waistcoat he was wearing. When he spotted Crowley, he broke into a big smile - just as he always did - and, just as Crowley always did, he fell a little deeper in love with him.

“Did you see her?” Fergus asked, reminding Crowley that he wasn’t alone in the room with his love.

“I did,” Crowley replied, walking over to give Aziraphale a little kiss, then going to sprawl inelegantly on the little couch - after he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Well what did she say?” Fergs demanded.

Crowley grinned at him. “She said that she thinks right now that she might marry you. She’s still deciding.”

Aziraphale chuckled into his hand while Fergus called Crowley a rude name - although he was smiling, too.

“Seriously, what did she say?”

“She said that she would be the one in white that is coming down the aisle,” Crowley said, smiling.

“Fantastic,” Fergus replied, clearly chuffed.

“Well, my man,” Crowley said, making himself comfortable on the couch, crossing his legs. “I guess it’s time to retire the knickerburner, yeah?”

Fergus scoffed. “I think not. One of these days I’m going to forget to take the rubbish out to the bins and I’m gonna need it.”

All of them laughed, and Aziraphale joked, “That’s married life!”

“Say, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, smiling at the love of his life when the laughter died down. “Speaking of married life…”

Aziraphale smiled coyly. “Yes?”

“When we get married, we won’t be in a church, right?”

Aziraphale gave him a sly look. “Bold of you to assume I’ll marry you.”

Crowley cocked a grin at him. “You will,” he said, in a teasing voice.

“Hmm,” Aziraphale hummed, still grinning. “When the day comes that we put marriage on the table, I don’t really care where we do it.”

“We’ll do it anywhere you want, sweetheart. I just want you. And as for the ‘when’ aspect, I’d have asked you six months ago, but this lug made us promise not to,” he said, jerking his thumb towards Fergus to indicate him.

“Hey now. I never said you couldn’t get engaged. Just that I wanted you to wait to make any legal entanglements.”

“It’s just a formality at this point, isn’t it?” Crowley said. “But it’s a formality I’m really looking forward to. And I can ask in about six weeks.”

Aziraphale was still grinning, fiddling with his cufflinks. “Well, perhaps we’ll get there someday. I hope we do. But for now, we’re in the throes of Fergus and Ella’s wedding, so they should be the focus.” He finished with that cufflink and started on the other one. “I still can’t believe you managed to talk her into marrying you in this short a time.”

Crowley scoffed and crossed his legs. “To be honest, I can’t believe she agreed to marry you at all.”

Fergus shot him a playful look, and Crowley just grinned unrepentantly, until Fergus went back to what he was doing. “She wanted to be out of her parents’ house before term started, and they did a bit of a nutty about us living together. I was not about to argue - but her mother is still a little salty that she’s been living with me since before Christmas.”

“Her mother is salty about everything,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“That’s true,” Crowley agreed. “Are you sure you want to tie yourself to her mother for the rest of her life?”

“To be with Ella? You bet your ass. There wasn’t going to be the wisp of a chance that she’d get away.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’ve seen her look at you. We both have. She’s not going anywhere.”

“Well,” Fergus said, “there was another reason.”

“What might that be?”

“She’s going to start to show soon.”

Crowley froze, and Aziraphale’s face fell into complete shock, his mouth a round O.

“You’re pregnant?” Crowley said, incredulous.

“Yeah,” Fergus said, beaming. “We are. Or rather, she is. But I’m trying to make it as much of a team effort as I can.”

“You dog!” Aziraphale said affectionately, cuffing him on the arm. “How is she doing? How are you doing?”

“We’re both completely over the moon. The baby is due the first of August, and she’s doing well. A little nausea in the morning, and she can’t even get near mince right now without getting sick. But other than that, she’s great. We’re great.”

Aziraphale hugged Fergus, and Crowley got to his feet so he could also hug.

“Just don’t say anything to anyone yet, alright?” Fergus said as he released the hug from Aziraphale and turned to Crowley. “We want to let people know a couple of weeks after the wedding. Plus we’d like to be in the second trimester.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Crowley promised.

“No, we won’t, but… Oh, dear, I’m just so happy for you!” Aziraphale enthused, right before hugged Fergus again.

Crowley went to sit back down on the couch, smiling broadly. He was beyond thrilled for Fergus - and happy that Az was happy. Plus, he liked kids.

“We’ll be godfathers,” Crowley said, reclining back on the seat.

Aziraphale looked wondering. “Godfathers. Well I’ll be damned.”

“Honestly, I can’t wait,” Fergus said. “But the first step is for me to marry her. Which I intend to do right now. How do I look?”

Aziraphale brushed away an imaginary piece of lint on his lapel. “You look wonderful, dear.”

“You look alright,” Crowley said with a crooked grin.

“That’s as good as I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?” Fergus said. “Alright, let’s do it.”

The wedding was beautiful, in Crowley’s opinion. It was fairly small, given that Ella was nobility, and he assumed that was because the entire wedding had been put together in about six weeks. Even if it had been hasty, it was stunning, and Crowley had spent most of the ceremony staring at Aziraphale, thinking about what he wanted for their wedding. Which he planned to ask Aziraphale to consent to on 4 March, and not a moment later.

To be honest, even though it had just happened, Crowley didn’t remember much of it. He remembered - and was surprised - that Michael was actually pleasant during the runup to the wedding. She was smiling during the wedding, and Crowley had been downright shocked to find that she was actually attractive when she didn’t look like she hadn’t been drinking straight vinegar. It was amazing how much she loosened up when she wasn’t dealing with an arranged marriage to a very reluctant groom. And his shock had been total when she’d come into the wedding with another woman, Dagon. He had to admit that it was a good look on her.

Ella, of course, was absolutely stunning in a simple white gown. Crowley had noted that she was glowing for months, but it seemed she was glowing even more these days - and now he knew why. He couldn’t possibly be happier for any of them.

But to be honest, he’d spent the majority of the ceremony staring at Aziraphale, thinking about how he was the luckiest man in the world, and how he couldn’t wait to make Aziraphale his husband.

And he was going to ask Aziraphale to marry him the absolute minute the year agreement was up, on 4 March. It was only a few weeks away, and he was counting the days.

Now, however, the wedding itself was done, and they were at the reception. Dinner had been lovely - which was exactly what he would expect when at the wedding of a peer - and they’d done all the necessary dances. Aziraphale had been kept busy, attending to his best man duties, but Crowley had managed to keep himself busy, circulating the crowd.

He was currently dancing with Ella, talking to her about all manner of things. He had just let slip that he knew about the baby (and that he and Aziraphale would be keeping it a complete secret) when she laughed.

“We trust you two implicitly. The one we’re going to have to watch is Michael.”

He raised a brow. “Michael?”

“Oh, yes. She’s thirty-four, and I’ve never heard her engage in any silly baby talk, ever. But you should have seen the way her face lit up when she saw the sonogram. She immediately started cooing at the sonogram and talking about how beautiful the baby is.”

Crowley raised a curious brow. “My understanding was that at your stage, the baby is kind of just…”

“A lump, yes. In the ultrasound, you can’t see any features, you can’t even really see arms or legs! But that didn’t deter Auntie Michael.”

Crowley chuckled. “Auntie Michael is going to take some getting used to.

“Oh, for me, too,” Ella said. “But I think she’ll be - oh!” she finished,

He felt a tap on his shoulder before he could turn around to look, and when he did, he saw Aziraphale was standing there, looking beyond gorgeous and smiling. Crowley hardly noticed Fergus beside him.

“Mind if we cut in?” Aziraphale asked, his smile radiant.

“Yeah, you’ve run off with my wife,” Fergus said, looking giddy.

Ella sighed happily and stepped over to wrap her arm around Fergus’ waist. “That’s also going to take a little getting used to.”

Fergus kissed the side of her head. “Come on, love. We’ve got a couple things to tend to - and these two haven’t gotten to dance yet.”

“No, we haven’t,” Aziraphale said, “and we’re quite overdue.”

Crowley swept him into his arms. “We’ll catch up with you lot in a little while. Ciao,” he said, then spun Aziraphale onto the floor.

Once they were gone, Crowley took a moment just to gaze at his love. He was even more beautiful now than he had been almost eleven months ago, and it was uncanny.

Aziraphale was still giving him a teasing look. “The moment I turn my back, and you’re dancing with the prettiest woman here.”

Crowley grinned. “Only to kill time because you were gone, angel. You know good and well that I only have eyes for you.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale huffed playfully. “See that you do.”

“Silly bastard,” Crowley said, just before he kissed him softly. When the kiss broke, Aziraphale was looking at him with eyes that were just as besotted as Crowley’s, and he couldn’t help but say. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I do hope so, because I love you tremendously.”

He kissed his nose. “Good to know. So how long before we have to do this again?"

"Bee and Gabriel are getting married next month, so honestly it's not even worth packing the tuxedos away properly."

Crowley grinned. "Still can't believe how much Gabe has chilled out. He’s almost pleasant to be around now.”

"He really is, and it’s delightful. I love to see him happy. And it's quite astonishing, seeing him bloom now he's out from under Father's thumb."

"I saw Bee watching him closely when he started to be a prat, too. I don’t think he’ll be crossing them much."

“Well can you blame him?” Aziraphale laughed.

Crowley laughed, too, then he sobered a bit. “You know, angel, I like seeing you in anything - and nothing - but I have to say that you look ravishing in this tux.”

Aziraphale gave him a flirtatious look. “Why, thank you.”

“Maybe you can wear something just like it at our wedding.”

Now Aziraphale tsked. “My darling, you do keep getting ahead of yourself. You think you can just crook your little finger and I'll come running."

Crowley gave a cocky grin. “And I’m right. But it’s just fair play, since you dont’ even have to crook your finger and I come running. Fair's fair and all."

He hummed again, although his eyes were twinkling. "Mmm, yes. Fortunate Ii like you so much, isn't it?"

“Sure hope you do.”

“Still, I haven’t given much thought to the future. I’m a live in the now sort of man. Tomorrow can wait.”

Crowley gave him an utterly puzzled look. “What are you talking about? We’ve planned for the future! In loose terms, of course.”

Aziraphale had his bastard look, which Crowley didn’t understand, but he didn’t get to ask before there was the unmistakable sound of a utensil tapping a glass. Everyone stopped talking to turn around and find Fergus there, beside Ella, his champagne glass raised.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?”

The crowd quieted down more, and Aziraphale and Crowley turned to face him. He slid his arm around his love’s waist comfortably, and kissed his temple, just because.

“First of all, I want to thank all of you for being here, and for celebrating our day…”

Crowley didn’t mean to, but he tuned him out. He was much more focused on the feel of Aziraphale beside him, warm and soft, and his eyes were wandering over the floral arrangements, wondering what type of floral Aziraphale would want when he finally proposed…. His attention was caught again when he realized Fergus was talking about him.

“Many of you don’t know that Ella and I were introduced by my best friend and his partner,” he said. Aziraphale and Crowley shared a smile, and Crowley kissed the side of his head again. “They also met because of that wedding, so the day that was supposed to produce one happy couple actually produced two.”

Crowley shot a look at Michael to see that she was holding hands with Dagon and didn’t look at all distressed. He was surprised that he was glad.

“Aziraphale has been my best friend for almost twenty years, and I couldn’t possibly be any closer to him. He and I have always brought joy into each other’s lives, but I don’t think either of us expected to find the love of our lives as a result of each other. I’ve been grateful for Az since the moment I met him, and now I’m even more grateful. Nearly all of the good things in my life are a result of him, and I wish him the greatest happiness.” There was a murmur in the crowd, and Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s waist.

“But I’m sure you’re sick of hearing from me. So I’m going to turn it over to the man in question, Aziraphale.”

There was a little applause, and Aziraphale stepped out of Crowley’s arms so he could hug Fergus and kiss Ella on the cheek. Crowley was clapping harder than anyone, and determined to pay attention to this speech.

“Hello, everyone. As mentioned, I am Aziraphale, the best friend, and I have a couple of things to say. I didn’t get to give the last best man speech I had planned, but I’m very glad to give this one. First of all, to Fergus and Ella - we could not be happier for this day. You have been my best friend, my platonic soulmate, for almost two decades, and I can’t imagine life without you. It might have been galling to share you with anyone else, but sharing you with someone as wonderful as Ella just makes my heart smile. I love you both very much, and Ella, if you ever need to talk to someone who understands just how frustrating this man can be, you can call me anytime.”

There was a little light laughter and another ripple of applause. Crowley prepared to put his arm back around Aziraphale, thinking his speech was over. But it wasn’t.

“Just for a moment, I hope you’ll indulge me. And please know that I am doing this with the happy couple’s blessing. In fact, I was ordered to do it, right now.”

Crowley’s brow was knit in confusion, but Fergus and Ella were beaming, like they were excited… He wondered if Aziraphale was about to spill the beans about the pregnancy, but that didn’t seem right…

“Almost eleven months ago, Fergus introduced me to the man who I realized very quickly is the love of my life. I have never known joy like I have felt in the last year. Every day with him is the happiest day of my life. He has brought sunshine into my world, which I didn’t even realize was dark. He has given me the kind of love that I’ve only ever read about. And he does it with a generosity that it absolutely stunning to behold. I love him more than anyone has ever loved anyone else, and the wonder of it all is that I’m living just to fall more in love with him, every day.”

Tears pricked Crowley’s eyes, and he was so ready to kiss Aziraphale as soon as he stopped talking…

Aziraphale swallowed, looking a little nervous, then turned to Crowley - and Crowley gasped right out loud when Aziraphale retrieved a small box from his pocket and got down onto one knee.

“Angel...” he breathed.

Aziraphale opened the ring box to reveal a band that was a dark metal, swirled with a gold one, and smiled up at Crowley.

“Anthony J. Crowley, my life was incomplete before you came along. Now I am whole - and it is all because of you. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, please? Will you be my husband?”

“Of course I will, you ridiculous thing,” he said, tears spilling.

He didn’t wait another second before he hauled Aziraphale to his feet and kissed him soundly, barely registering the sound of the people around them clapping and whistling.