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mimisempai · 1 year

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Something new but not unknown

Summary

Crowley has always found Aziraphale's love for food adorable... but when it disturbs an important moment for him, will he find it just as adorable?

Notes

9th December Prompt : A is planning to ask B to move in with them by presenting them with the gingerbread house/apartment of their dreams/a gingerbread key.

On Ao3

Rating G - 923 words

They were spending one of their usual evenings in the living room of Aziraphale. Sitting together on the sofa, sharing a glass of mulled wine because it was the season. Just lit by the flames of the fireplace and the lights of the Christmas tree.

However, there was something different tonight.

Aziraphale had the impression that Crowley was acting stranger than usual. He seemed to be on pins and needles, more so than he normally was.

He turned to him and looked at him with concern, "Crowley, it seems like something is wrong."

The demon shook his head, "No, no, everything is fine."

Aziraphale was not convinced, but hoped that if there was something Crowley would talk to him.

He was about to resume his position on the couch when Crowley spoke up again, "Actually, there is something."

He rummaged inside his jacket and pulled out a small pouch. He handed it to Aziraphale and said, "I... I bought you... uh... a little something."

Aziraphale's face lit up with a big smile as he exclaimed, "Oh my dear! What an amazing surprise!"

Crowley shrugged, "Open it before you marvel at nothing."

Aziraphale pressed a light kiss to his cheek and retorted, "It's from you so it's already a source of joy in itself."

He did not see Crowley's slight blush as he eagerly opened the small pouch.

He exclaimed, "Oh gingerbread! I love it so much!" Then, as Crowley looked on in dismay, the angel popped the gingerbread directly into his mouth to take a bite.

Crowley shouted, "Aziraphale!"

He stopped him from putting the gingerbread in his mouth for a second bite.

The angel looked at him, looking completely dumbfounded, "What? What have I done?"

Crowley ran a hand over his face, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. He sighed, "God knows I love you, but you can be so damn annoying sometimes."

"What the hell?" exclaimed Aziraphale.

Crowley continued, "Did you even look at the gingerbread shape?"

Aziraphale bit his lip, realizing that in his greed to eat the gingerbread, he hadn't even paid attention to anything else.

With a sheepish look on his face, he looked down at the cookie and despite the piece he had just eaten, he recognized the shape.

He looked up at Crowley, "It's a key."

Crowley nodded.

The angel,sensing there was more to it, added, "It's an unusual shape for gingerbread."

Crowley, even more fidgety, began to ramble while avoiding Aziraphale's gaze, "Well you see, a key opens a door, the door of a house... it was symbolic... well you see, it was to say... oh screw it! We should move in together. That’s it!"

He refused to look up and stared at his hands as he pulled an invisible thread on his pants.

He saw Aziraphale's hand appear in front of his eyes and rest on his, as if to calm him, as the angel's voice said with a surprised tone, "But my dear, we're practically living together. I mean... you're eighty percent of the time at my house, you even leave belongings there, even some plants."

Crowley looked up and seeing no negative feelings on the angel's face, he replied, "No, that came out wrong, I mean let's find our own place, move in together. In something that is us and not yours with something brought in by me or vice versa."

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side and asked softly, "Are you really serious?"

Crowley rolled his eyes and blurted out, "Do you really think I would embarrass myself like this in front of you if I wasn't serious?!"

The angel, grabbing Crowley's hand, said, looking him in the eye, "It feels permanent."

Crowley returned the same direct gaze and said in a firmer voice, "I have no intention of leaving."

For the first time since their discussion began, Aziraphale's expression turned vulnerable as he asked in a slightly more hesitant voice, "You're serious. You want us to move in together."

Crowley, without taking his eyes off of him, nodded with determination.

The angel bit his lip and replied, "Then just promise me one thing."

Crowley tensed, expecting something impossible to promise and whispered through his teeth, "I'm listening."

Aziraphale squeezed the demon's hand in his and said softly, "Promise me that if my quirks are unbearable, you won't leave."

Crowley chuckled and, grabbing the gingerbread key left on the coffee table, he waved it in front of Aziraphale's nose and said, "Angel! You literally just ruined my proposal with one bite, I've been putting up with your quirks for millennia, don't you think I'd be long gone by now?"

He pointed the gingerbread in front of the angel's mouth and continued, "I have no intention of leaving. So, if you agree, bite into it to give your approval."

Aziraphale giggled before biting into the gingerbread, his cheeks blushing.

Despite the sort of solemnity of the moment, Aziraphale couldn't help but let out a moan of delight, "Hmmm delicious."

Crowley raised his hand and with his thumb removed a gingerbread crumb from the corner of his angel's lip. Then letting his hand linger on Aziraphale's cheek, he leaned toward him, and whispered against his lips, "You'll excuse me, but I have to see for myself if this is delicious."

Aziraphale chuckled nervously and the demon added, "And then like that the promise is sealed." Finally, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against the angel's in a kiss that sealed the promise of a life together.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

"Advent Calendar" : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphal

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worstqueerbaittournament · 1 year

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For the last time, people (not you, mod, you haven't submitted them after all) Aziraphale and Crowley's story is not queerbait.

Not labeling a relationship doesn't make it queerbait...

They're canonically genderless, for fucks' sake and we're free to pick an interpretation wherever we're in favor of a qpr relationship, an unlabeled one, a romantic one etc.

It was only ever said that it's not a gay story in the sense that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't male, they're genderless celestial beings.

It's not that deep and I think it disheartening to see such a beautifully written relationship -that can bring together romance-repulsed and shippers together- been deemed queerbait.

(Also, do you need all the love stories you read precising THIS IS A LOVE STORY in bold letters ?? Understated romances are a thing and can be just as great as explicited ones)

It's not like Pratchett and Gaiman have never written great openly queer characters before... Have never of you submitters read Discworld or Sandman before ??? You're aware these works are older than many of you and were -and still are- especially meaningful to queer people when they came out, right ?

Seeing those on a list with Merthur and BBC Johnlock is sad. (Again, this is not against you, mod). Fuck it, Azi and Crowley don't get unnecessary feminine-presenting love interests or something so heteronormative.

I used to scorn at the 'tumblr ppl have bad reading comprehension' stuff but I'm starting to be incredibly concerned when people can't distinct between well-meaning and supportive allies and guys like. fucking Moff*t

Also wanting to make queer stories looking all the same and limited to a restrictive frame is even more deeply concerning when variety and diversity are the heart of the queer community and it contributes to the pressure to come out to be "a true queer" since only relationships who tick all the cases made up by cishet ppl are recognized

You know how we say that straight relationships in media are all the same ? Do you want that for our relationships too ?

This would be laughable if it wasn't so damn sad.

- A quite upset queer person (I'll bite the first imbecile who'll tell me I shouldn't use a slur to describe myself, this whole text is about your kind of people, pal)

Hey anon, I understand how you feel, but like I said before, I won't decide what does and doesn't count as a queerbait. (Unless the ship is actually canon.) I know Ineffable Husbands is controversial (hence the tag lol), and while I would agree with you and am personally also on the Crowley and Aziraphal are queerplatonic/genderqueer and canonly queer side, I understand people who wanted more confirmartion of it (and no, comfirmation doesn't have to be a kiss. It could be them talking more about their gender). Because yes, a lot of cishet people don't read Az and Crowley are queer, so I understand why people wanted more. But again, I'm just the mod and I would appriciate people staying kind and not yelling (especially not at me preferably). Like always, I'm gonna let you guys decide.

#other polls #i can see both sides #pls dont yell at me #ineffable husbands #good omens #answered

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buttmans-sharktooth · 9 months

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GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 SPOLIERS!!!

WTAF!!!!

I'm so happy that the ineffable husbands are cannon but what the actual fuck was that ending. you mean to tell me GABRIEL AND BELZEBUB got a happy ending but Crowley and Aziraphale left each other because Azirapheal decided to ditch Crowley and become and archangel. this Metatron is worse that supernatural's Metatron and that guy literally betrayed Cas and made all the angels fall from heaven but at least he acknowledged destiel and the fact that they were meant to be together. this twat knew full well that Crowley wouldn't want to go back to Heavan because he never liked heaven or hell in the first place. HE DONE IT TO PURPOSELY TAKE THEM AWAY FROM EACHOTHER!!!! i will not sleep until season three and i will happily have that be the last season if it means that Crowley and Aziraphale get to have a happy ending.

Other than that, though i loved this season so much however i will be sending my therapy bills to Neil Gaiman for how this shit turned out even though i love it more than life itself right now.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #im gonna cry #aziracrow

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brokendeathangel · 3 years

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C: Who stole Angel’s last strawberry jam sandwich?! I kill you rawrrrr !

A: sammichplscomeback *faints*

Thanks for the Kofi @samofthelord ! Here’s a protective Crowley protecting his soft angel from a strawberry sandwich thief

#good omens #good omens fanart #ineffable husbands #aziraphal #crowle #anthony j crowley #bda art #bda kofi

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crowleyownsmywholeheart · 3 years

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there’s so many headcanons on how crowley inspires famous singers & bands and how azi inspires authors but i feel like we often forget crowley pretty much canonically wrote a line for shakespeare

#good omens #gomens #crowley #anthony crowley #anthony janthony crowley #aziraphale #aziraphal ziraphale fell #a z fell #ineffable husbands

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smolalienbee · 4 years

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slowtember day 28-30 - english ivy/adventure

#smolalienbeeart #slowtember #ineffable husbands #good omens #gomens #aziraphal x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #fanart #good omens fanart #digital art #digital

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carriesfanart · 4 years

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Another #DTIYS from Instagram featuring @lillee-nika ‘s gorgon au!

#dtiys #good omens #crowley #aziraph #Ineffable Husbands #gorgon au

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imagination-phantom · 6 months

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Safe with you and you and me.

The angel an demon are the definition of comfort characters for me right now~

Haven’t been feeling too hot lately mentally, being a aziracrow sandwich helps. Lol

Click the image if blurry!

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jaz-norman · 4 years

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Aziraphale - Good Omens

#aziraphal #aziraphale #aziraphel/crowley #aziracrow #aziraphelxcrowley #ineffable husbands #good omens #neil gaiman #amazon prime #My art #antony j crowley #crowley

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forlorn-kumquat · 5 years

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your words like kisses on my skin - chapter three

Things came to a head on a dreary Tuesday morning.

Aziraphale was in the middle of wrapping up a book for a customer when he heard the bell over the door jingle loudly, the door itself smacking back into the wall before closing with a resounding crash.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled, his voice shockingly loud in the quiet of the bookshop. “What the hell is the meaning of this?”

He came stomping up the the desk, radiating fury with every step. Aziraphale’s ‘store closing - everything must go’ sign that he’d convinced the shopkeeper next door to write was clutched in his hand, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping the paper. Aziraphale was honestly surprised it hadn’t torn in two.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” he demanded a second time, just in case Aziraphale had misunderstood him the first time.

“I’m closing the bookshop,” Aziraphale told him.

After picking himself up off the floor the other day, he’d found himself staring at the bookshop like it was a prison, rather than the haven it had been for so long. The once-cozy shop felt like it was closing in on him, the books mocking him from their shelves. He felt trapped, and the only thing he could think was that he had to do something to make the feeling stop.

“You’re not closing anything,” Crowley said, glaring at him. He glared at the customer, too, snatching the book the woman was about to buy out of her hands. “This is not for sale. None of it’s for sale. Now get out.”

The customer squeaked, eyes going wide, and then she turned and bolted out the shop. Aziraphale sighed as he watched her leave.

“You can’t scare away all my customers,” he told Crowley. “I’ll never sell all these books if you do.”

“You’re not selling any of these books!” Crowley yelled, waving a hand at the shelves for emphasis. Behind him, the bell jingled softly as the door cracked open, and Crowley whipped his head around to stare down the unsuspecting customer. “Shop’s closed!” he barked, and the customer vanished so quickly that Aziraphale almost suspected Crowley of getting rid of him with magic.

“This is my store,” Aziraphale said, with what he thought was extraordinary patience, “and I’ll do with it what I like. And what I’d like is to sell all my books and close up. Permanently.”

(He didn’t; he wanted his words back, wanted to find a way to explain to Crowley what was really going on, wanted to feel like his life wasn’t spinning out of control, but he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.)

Crowley stared at him in astonishment. “But-but you love your bookshop,” he said, confused.

“Things change,” Aziraphale said, forcing a lightness into his voice that he didn’t feel. “I was getting tired of all the clutter, all the books, so I decided to make a change.”

“Are you leaving London?” Crowley asked, softly, a strange note in his voice.

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale replied, even though he frankly had no idea what he was going to do. “Change is good for the soul, after all, and I think I’ve rather been stagnating here in London all these years. It’ll be nice to get away.”

“Get away from London?” Crowley asked, still in that overly-careful tone. “Or get away from me?”

For a second Aziraphale didn’t understand, although it couldn’t have been any clearer what Crowley was asking. When he got it, he was speechless as he stared at Crowley, trying to figure out how to explain.

Unfortunately, Crowley took his silence entirely the wrong way. Nodding stiffly, he handed the crumpled sign back to Aziraphale and then turned on his heel and started toward the door. “My apologies for the intrusion, angel,” he said, his voice cold, clipped, barely recognizable. “Good luck on your book sale. Maybe we’ll catch up in a century or two.”

Aziraphale was frozen as he watched Crowley open the door, disappearing out onto the sidewalk, and then something in him broke free, the numbness replaced swiftly by an overwhelming sense of panic. Lunging toward the door, a strangled cry ripped from his throat, he threw himself outside the shop.

“Crowley!” he cried, his voice catching on a sob. “Crowley, wait!”

He looked around wildly, but he didn’t see a shock of bright red hair anywhere. He was too late, Crowley was gone. He’d already lost his books, and now he’d lost the one last good thing in his life - no, he hadn’t lost Crowley, he’d driven him away, and he would never see Crowley again, he was going to be alone-

He buried his face in his hands as he stumbled backward, but he never hit the wall of his shop. Instead, a pair of warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him gently forward into an embrace. He buried his face into Crowley’s shoulder, shaking, tears spilling from his eyes as he clung tightly to the front of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me-”

“Shh,” Crowley murmured into his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, angel.”

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale repeated, his voice thick with tears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry, too; I shouldn’t have walked out like that.” Leaning back just slightly, he tugged Aziraphale downward. “Here, sit down.”

Aziraphale lifted his head long enough to realize that they were back in his shop, that Crowley must have steered them inside while he was having his breakdown. He let Crowley urge him down onto the couch he kept in the back room, reaching for him again as soon as they were both sitting. Crowley wrapped him up in his arms again, one hand running soothingly up and down his back, and Aziraphale tried to get himself back under some semblance of control.

“What’s going on, angel?” Crowley finally asked, when the silence between them had stretched on long enough. “You run out on me in the middle of lunch, I don’t hear from you for weeks, and now I find you closing your bookshop. And all you can tell me is that you want a change!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to finally explain - but all that came out was a sob. His face felt hot and he struggled to breathe. Embarrassed, he buried his head in Crowley’s shoulder again, trying to keep himself from shaking apart with sheer panic.

“Slow, deep breaths, angel,” Crowley coached him.

“This is ridiculous,” Aziraphale managed to choke out. “I don’t even need to breathe.”

“Still helps,” Crowley countered. “Nice and slow, that’s it.”

With Crowley’s help, Aziraphale felt himself coming down from the adrenaline rush that had him wanting to jump out of his own skin. He sighed as he slumped more fully against Crowley, hot tears stinging his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his head just enough to look Crowley in the eye. If he said nothing else today, he had to say this. “I’m sorry for running out on lunch, I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Crowley started, but Aziraphale shook his head.

“Yes, I do,” he argued. “It’s the least that I owe you. Along with an explanation.” He took a deep breath, trying to muster his courage. He didn’t know why it was so hard to get these words out; ironically, he thought, it would be easier if he was able to write his thoughts down, but that was impossible. “There’s something wrong with me, Crowley.”

“What is it, are you hurt?” Crowley’s grip around Aziraphale tightened protectively, and the angry gleam in his eyes suggested that he was ready to storm Heaven, or Hell, or wherever was responsible.

“Not hurt,” Aziraphale hastened to reassure him. “But, when Adam brought me back into my own body, something went wrong. I can’t-” Why was this so hard? He should just blurt it out and be done with it. “I can’t read, Crowley!”

It was hard to read Crowley’s eyes behind his dark sunglasses, but Aziraphale thought that he’d surprised him. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. Finally:

“Is that it?” he demanded, incredulous. “Christ, Aziraphale, I thought something was seriously wrong!”

Aziraphale reared back and stared at Crowley, too hurt to even chide him for his language. “Something is wrong,” he insisted, stung.

Pushing himself out of Crowley’s embrace, he got to his feet and stomped away. He felt foolish as soon as he’d done it, but that didn’t stop him from hunching his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his stomach when he heard Crowley coming up from behind him. He stiffened in anticipation of more mocking, but Crowley put a hesitant hand on his shoulder, his touch cautious like he thought it might not be welcome.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, quietly. “I wasn’t making fun, I promise. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded; I just thought it was something like Heaven or Hell coming after you.”

“Nothing like that,” Aziraphale said. Wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach, he mumbled, “It’s just so - so embarrassing. And painful. Books are one of my highest pleasures in life, or they were, and now they’re nothing. Might as well be toilet paper for all the use they are to me!”

Even he could admit to himself that he was being melodramatic at that point, but he couldn’t stop himself. Luckily, Crowley didn’t seem very inclined to point it out, either.

“It’s not embarrassing,” he said, instead. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who can’t read.”

“It’s not even that,” Aziraphale tried to explain. “When I look at words, nothing makes sense. Letters don’t look like letters - I’m not even sure I could tell what is and isn’t a letter, anymore. How am I supposed to run a bookshop when I can’t read any of the books I’ve got?” finally daring to turn around, he saw that Crowley still didn’t look convinced of his argument. “What if it was you?” he pressed, trying a different tactic. “What if you woke up one morning, and you couldn’t drive? If, when you looked at the Bentley, all you saw were random bits of metal and leather, and you couldn’t figure out what any of it did? What would you do?”

Crowley didn’t argue with him, only looked thoughtful for a minute. “That’s not the question I’d ask,” he finally said, looking at Aziraphale with a curious expression on his face. “The question I’d ask is: what would you do, if I came to you one morning and told you that I couldn’t drive any longer?”

“Well, I can drive,” Aziraphale told him, “and I would, for you, if you needed me-” He got it, suddenly, what Crowley was trying to say, and he frowned. “Well, that’s hardly the same thing.”

“Isn’t it?” Crowley asked, clearly expecting the question to be rhetoric, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to let it go.

“It is!” he insisted. “I can’t just ask you to drop everything and read to me whenever I want.”

“Why not?” Crowley countered, like that was the only argument he needed. “What better way to spend my time than with you?”

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as he stared at Crowley, but Crowley had already turned around and was headed back to the couch, clearly expecting Aziraphale to follow him. “Grab a book,” he called over his shoulder. “If you haven’t read anything in a month, I’d imagine you’re going a little stir-crazy, so let’s start now.”

He said it like it was really that simple, and Aziraphale dazedly grabbed the first book his fingers found and trailed after Crowley. Crowley had already made himself comfortable on the couch, lounging against the entire length. Aziraphale couldn’t figure out where Crowley meant him to sit until Crowley made a gesture, indicating that he intended for Aziraphale to stretch out on top of him, like they’d been lying just a few minutes earlier. Still tense, expecting some kind of rejection or mockery, Aziraphale carefully settled himself against Crowley’s chest, but Crowley simply wrapped his arms around him with a quiet sigh, just holding him for a moment.

After another moment, he reached for the book still dangling loosely in Aziraphale’s grip. “T.S. Eliot,” he said, an approving tone in his voice. “Going for the classics, I see.”

“Well it’s not like I can read the cover,” Aziraphale pointed out, chuckling weakly as the absurdity of the situation finally hit him. “It was just the first one I grabbed.” Crowley didn’t say anything to that; he just adjusted his grip so that he could hold onto both Aziraphale and the book. But before he could start reading, Aziraphale stopped him. “Crowley, wait.”

“Something wrong, angel?”

“If I’m being honest,” Aziraphale said, hesitantly, “I don’t want to start with Eliot. I want to start with that note you wrote me. The one you gave me at lunch,” he added, just in case there was any confusion. “I don’t know what it says, but it seemed very important to you. And I’d like to know what it said.”

Crowley actually flushed, his cheeks going bright pink. He pulled off his sunglasses to rub at his eyes, but then he didn’t put them back on, looking down at Aziraphale instead with brilliant yellow eyes.

“That note,” he said, carefully. “That, um, that wasn’t a note. Not exactly. It was a poem.” He looked away quickly as his face went an even deeper red, clearly avoiding Aziraphale’s eyes. “A love poem,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for Aziraphale to hear him.

And all of a sudden things started to make sense. The way Crowley had been nervous at lunch when he’d handed the paper over, his drunken rambling message on the machine- “You wrote me a love poem?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s nothing,” Crowley said, trying to deflect, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to let him.

“It’s everything,” he insisted, reaching up to cup Crowley’s cheek, needing that extra point of contact. Crowley slowly turned his face back to look at him, anxiety clear in his eyes. “No one’s ever written me a love poem before,” Aziraphale told him. Another realization, and he winced at the memory. “When I ran away from lunch,” he said, “you must have thought I was rejecting you.”

“It had crossed my mind,” Crowley admitted, after a long moment.

“I would never!” Aziraphale protested, immediately. “I would like to hear your poem, though,” he added, softer. “If you’re still willing to share it.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, his voice suspiciously hoarse, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I have it upstairs,” Aziraphale told him, but Crowley tightened his arms before he could get up.

“No need,” Crowley told him. “I remember what I wrote.” He cleared his throat, looking almost nervous.

“I built the stars onceBut they could never compare to your eyesThe galaxies are a pale imitation of your beauty.

I’ve spent a hundred thousand lifetimes falling in love with youI want to spend eternity by your sideSo that I can love you for a hundred thousand more.

I want to give you all the wonders of the worldBecause only they could hope to compareTo the way you make me feel.”

Aziraphale found himself transfixed by the way Crowley’s voice rose and fell in an almost-lyrical melody. He closed his eyes as he listened, letting the words, the love wash over him. He’d never felt more cherished than in that moment.

“I love it,” he murmured, quietly, when Crowley trailed off. “And I love you,” he added, looking Crowley in the eye. If Crowley could be brave enough, so could he. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

“Yeah?” Crowley asked, a cautiously hopeful smile on his face. When Aziraphale nodded, Crowley leaned down to kiss him, slow and sweet and full of promise. Full of love. “I hope you know you’re stuck with me, now,” Crowley quipped, after he finally, reluctantly pulled away.

“For eternity, I hope,” Aziraphale replied, echoing Crowley’s own words back at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#crowley #aziraphal #ineffable husbands #good omens #kumquat writes

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shreddies-scribbles · 8 months

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Mr. Fell and his gorgeous assistant omg guys

this is a redraw of a screencap from “Cabaret” (refenece under the cut 🙏)

#crowley smexy mmmmmmm #my art #good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens fanwork #crowley #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale #crowly x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #azirapheal #crowley fanart #aziraphale fanart #good omens fanart

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mimisempai · 1 year

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It would take almost nothing for me to say I love you

Summary

When Aziraphale braves the freezing winter weather to go to his sushi restaurant like every week, he didn't expect to meet Crowley. Nor did he expect all the surprises the evening had in store for him.

Notes

2nd December Prompt : "Here, let me help you with the scarf."

On AO3

Rating T - 1200 words

The cold bit Aziraphale's face as he left the bookstore. He tugged up the collar of his coat and pulled his warm scarf up over his nose.

But not even the coldest weather could make him give up his weekly dose of sushi.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking.

When he turned the corner, he stopped suddenly at the surprise of seeing Crowley leaning nonchalantly against a lamppost.

Aziraphale asked him with a bemused tone, "What are you doing here?"

Crowley, a half smile on his face, replied, "I know it's your sushi day and that's the time you go to the restaurant."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, "Are you stalking me?"

Crowley protested, "What? No! You just mentioned several times that you were going and I-"

Aziraphale chuckled softly, not a little proud inside to be the one teasing for once, "Calm down, my dear. I was just kidding."

Crowley harrumphed and, annoyed, was going to move away but an unexpected gust of wind blew his scarf into his face. It made his glasses fly away but he could catch them quickly and put them back on his nose. Meanwhile Aziraphale had approached and once Crowley let his hands fall back, the angel grabbed both sides of the demon's scarf.

Aziraphale said softly, "Here, let me help you with the scarf."

Then tying the scarf without looking at Crowley, he asked, "So why exactly were you here waiting for me?"

"I wanted to come and keep you company uh...mess with you while you ate."

Luckily Aziraphale's cheeks were flushed from the cold, otherwise he couldn't have hidden another flush that wasn't from the cold, but from knowing that Crowley wanted to keep him company. Even if it was just to mess with him.

He replied softly, still without looking up, "I'd love to have some company."

So close to Crowley's face, he couldn't help but notice the little gasp the demon had in reaction to his answer.

But Crowley soon regained his composure and with a sweeping gesture, he said in an emphatic tone, "After you, dear angel."

At the demon's smile, Aziraphale felt that tingling in his stomach that happened more and more frequently when he was in Crowley's presence.

He could feel that something had shifted between them, gradually, through small things.

For example, the distance that had shrunk between them when they were walking, their hands brushing against each other intermittently.

Like now.

All it would have taken was one more slight movement and their hands...

But Aziraphale was a coward.

He would never have the audacity to make that simple move, so he held back. But suddenly he couldn't hold back a small gasp.

Crowley was not a coward and he had dared.

He had made the move and now his hand slid around Aziraphale's hand. Then when their hands were palm to palm, Crowley's fingers intertwined with his and Aziraphale could only close his fingers around the demon's.

He turned his head to Crowley who shrugged, "You forgot your gloves, angel, so this is a good way to warm them up, right?"

Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough now to decipher his expressions and he didn't miss the slight expression of uncertainty hidden behind the demon's bravado.

He smiled softly at Crowley, "Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you."

Crowley shrugged and looking at Aziraphale's face for a moment, he added with a half smile and in a much lower and warmer voice, "I know another way to warm you up."

Aziraphale's cheeks burned and he once again thanked heaven for the cold that could explain his blush.

He croaked, "Really?"

Crowley nodded slowly and then on his outstretched hand in front of him, he conjured a travel mug.

Aziraphale grabbed it with a puzzled look on his face and when he opened the lid, a slight smoke came out. He immediately recognized the fragrance emitted from the mug and exclaimed, "Mulled wine! But how did you know that-"

Crowley looked at him intensely and said in the same warm voice, "I know a lot about you Aziraphale."

To hide his embarrassment, Aziraphale took a sip, reveling in the warm sensation provided by the burning liquid running down his throat.

But while Crowley still had not let go of his hand, dragging him along as they made their way to the restaurant, Aziraphale knew what he had to do.

He could no longer let Crowley always make the first move, take all the responsibility of their relationship on himself.

Dare.

He held him by the sleeve and as the demon turned to him confused, Aziraphale blurted out, "I love you."

He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

He felt Crowley's hand grip his chin and his breath on his face as the demon whispered with a hoarse voice, "Please angel, open your eyes."

Aziraphale swallowed and slowly opened his eyes. He found himself staring at the eyes of Crowley, who had removed his glasses.

"Crowley..."

The demon's expression was incredibly fragile as he asked, "You mean it? What you just said. Do you really mean it?"

Aziraphale nodded and repeated in a firm voice, looking Crowley in the eyes this time, "I love you."

Since he had known him, Aziraphale had seen the demon smile often, often in a sarcastic or mocking or arrogant way, but never had he seen the smile that blossomed at that moment on his lips.

Then the demon moved even closer and just after whispering, "I love you." he pressed his lips to Aziraphale's and kissed him tenderly.

After a few seconds, straightening up, he had a mischievous expression again as he licked his lips, "Hm, really delicious this mulled wine."

But Aziraphale hadn't had enough so he made the mug disappear and grabbing Crowley's scarf, he pulled him closer and whispered, "How about another taste?"

Crowley, probably surprised by the boldness of his angel, widened his eyes then quickly regained his composure and closed the distance between him and Aziraphale, capturing his lips for another kiss.

But as the kiss deepened, it was not the butterflies in Aziraphale's stomach but the hunger that came in a long rumbling sound that mortified him.

Crowley could not help but sneer softly against Aziraphale's lips, who could only join him despite his embarrassment.

The demon straightened up, then, stepping aside, he held out his hand to Aziraphale and said, "Come on dear angel, let's not be distracted from the primary purpose of this evening."

Aziraphale grasped Crowley's hand, intertwining their fingers, and asked, one eyebrow raised, "Which is?"

Crowley's expression softened as he replied, "To spend a nice evening in very pleasant company."

As if embarrassed by such a confession, the demon began to walk forward, looking straight ahead, forcing Aziraphale to follow him.

The angel couldn't help but smile fondly and, squeezing the hand in his own, he replied softly, "We weren't distracted from the first one, we just went a little ahead."

Now level with Crowley, he didn't miss the smile that formed on his companion's lips and promised himself to do everything he could to see that smile as often as possible.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

"Advent Calendar" : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphal

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