Chapter Text
"So sweet! Are you married?"
"Oh no. D'you know the bloody paper costs almost 200 quid?" Crowley grins wide and shit-eating up at the waiter as he laughs and smiles behind the menus he holds. "I've been waiting on a sale, but it's been years now."
Under the table, he squeezes Crowley's hand hard enough to make the demon's boyish smile twitch.
"What an awful joke! Such a shame." The waiter throws him a wink.
"Flirting with my boyfriend right in front of me?" He can taste lust on his tongue. The flavor is sour.
The waiter sputters and frets. That's better. "Do your job. Bring our drinks." The boy, barely a man, nods quickly and stumbles over his own feet in his rush to get away from the sudden rush of something deep and dark that spreads approximately one meter around their table.
"You're so sexy when you get all possessive, lamb." Crowley tips his chin up to kiss him gently and sweetly. "I only have eyes for you."
Ezra scrunches his nose at him. "You're the one always flirting. You do it just to get on my nerves." He crosses his arms fussily and turns his head away from another attempted kiss.
"Don't be cross, lamb." He pulls Ezra's chair closer and tries for another kiss. "Lamb...Ezra! Ezzy-Wezzy! Zeezee! Lamz--" His laughter is muffled by the perfectly manicured hand pressed fully against his mouth.
"Ezzy-Wezzy? Really?" He bites his lip to keep from laughing. Crowley wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and suddenly they're both laughing too happy and too loud at their favorite table outside their favorite cafe.
The coffee is always good, and watching Crowley nibble a plate of jammy biscuits is always a treat. Even with his infernal sunglasses on, Ezra can still see the slight flutter of pleasure that flits across his eyes. The smell of his absolute calm and content is sweet and floral.
Ezra leans his cheek on his hand. He smiles fondly as the demon bites into another biscuit. "You know you can't kiss me until you've washed out your mouth." He uses his free hand to stir his coffee. "Such a shame. You look so cute with crumbs on your lips." He takes great pleasure at the blotchy blush that spreads over Crowley's nose and cheeks.
"Who says I want to kiss you anyway?" He jerks his leg away from the black boot that tries to kick him under the table. "You're a bastard."
"A bastard worth knowing, hm?"
Crowley is careful to wipe his lips, and he uses his coffee to clear his mouth even after a minor miracle cleans his teeth. "You'll kiss me now, won't you? That boy is looking. I know you've been watching him this whole time. Humans aren't that clumsy."
"... Maybe they forget how to hold trays. Humans forget things all the time." He replies petulantly.
They walk home hand in hand, as has become their norm. The cafe isn't so far from their flat, and the weather is just right for an evening walk. The coffee had been lovely, and he feels contently full of human annoyance and a hint of fear. As Crowley called it, his dessert stomach was a little overfilled with the overwhelming sweetness of gluttony. Crowley had left a sizeable tip to replace the dozen shattered mugs and teacups that the waiter had "accidentally" dropped.
"We should go to Barcelona." Ezra leans into Crowley's thin body. "We could spend a few weeks there."
"We were in Barcelona a few months ago, lamb."
"Oh... I remember. You loved the escalivada! I told you that you would, but you whined until you tried it."
Things were different. Things would always be different.
Aziraphale lived in Ezra's Being just as the angel Crowley had once been lived in his Being. Ezra's Being merged and separated like a supernova. It was never the same at any moment. Crowley's being still sparkled with whatever heavenly power was still left inside of him.
When Crowley believed something should happen, it did, and so Ezra had been the one to meet him outside of the plain, white door to Her realm. He had smiled shy and nervous and offered his hand.
Life was meant to change. Crowley had always gone too fast and changed too much. Aziraphale had always gone too slow and had been stuck in his ways for so long. They loved and loved, but they could never intersect. Ezra held his hand and kept his pace. He was a fussy, jealous bastard with a kind streak as wide as his smile.
"It was...slimy looking."
"Peppers are not oysters, dear." Ezra rolled his multi-pupil eyes. "Then where should we go? I don't want to go far. I'm not in the mood for a long plane ride."
Crowley stops them at the entrance to the flat they'd bought just far enough away from the old flat and the bookshop. "Wherever you want to go, lamb." He steals a kiss before tugging him inside and into the lift.
Their home is immaculately clean but filled with the soft signs of being lived in. Trinkets from their travels are carefully organized. One of the white walls is artfully decorated with framed photos of their life together. There's a soft couch perfect for stretching out and an ugly tartan blanket that clashes with the white and black decor. On the record-filled bookshelf, they keep the portrait of Crowley and Aziraphale posed outside of the bookshop all that time ago. It watches them and radiates loving, nostalgic energy.
They settle onto the soft couch. Crowley pillows his head on Ezra's chest and lets out the most contented of sighs. "Lamb?"
"Hm?" He strokes through slightly shaggier red hair. His demon needs a trim...
"Well... Did you want to get married?"
"Nnk...Nng...Hnng?" Ezra makes his best impression of Crowley with his brain shorts out. He feels his heart beat faster, and he feels blood rush red from the tips of his ears to the peek of his chest from the top of his shirt.
Crowley sits up as Ezra does. He sits in his lap like he's meant to be there (and he is). Crowley removes the golden, angel wing wedding ring he's always worn. He's never removed it. It used to be a reminder of who and what he was meant to be.
Miraculously the ring fits perfectly onto Ezra's scarred finger. The gold morphs slowly into brushed silver. He strokes his stunned face just behind the ear and produces an identical ring with a teasing scrunch of his nose. "Well? Won't you marry me?" He offers it to him with the true confidence that Crowley has only recently learned to have in himself. His face feels hot, and his hand shakes something awful.
Ezra swallows audibly. He bites his lip and nods. The second ring slides onto Crowley's finger.
A gentle, sweet kiss consummates their marriage.