Chapter Text
It was on a lovely Sunday afternoon, the sun shining and the breeze light, that Crowley remembered that all of this almost didn’t happen.
He almost didn’t get a happy ending living in a cottage with the love of his life. Almost. But he did.
As he contemplated this over his morning eggs, Aziraphale came up behind him and wrapped his arms soundly around Crowley’s middle. The angel had taken to sleeping more often now that they were out of the city and he is always adorably brain dead before he has breakfast. Said sleepy angel now rested his forehead against the back of Crowley’s neck and hummed at him.
“Good morning, love,” Crowley cooed at him.
“Mmph.”
“I think that’s usually my line.”
Crowley set down the spatula and turned to scoop Aziraphale into his arms, grabbing him in a sloppy, loose-limbed hug. He waddled with Aziraphale in his arms until he was able to dump him in a seat with a fresh cup of tea steaming in front of his still half-asleep face.
Crowley planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead and went back to the eggs.
He finished up the rest of breakfast, making sausage and toasting up some bread from the bakery that Aziraphale discovered down the street. He got out jam from their lovely new neighbor Anne, and hummed as he continued to set the table.
He finally sat down, his own cup of tea in hand, and looked up to see Aziraphale looking at him funny.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Crowley wiped lightly at his cheek and chin as a precaution.
Aziraphale smiled lopsided at him.
“No, I just love you.” Aziraphale’s voice was still a little scratchy from sleep and he looked vulnerable in his large, rumbled sleep shirt.
Crowley snorted into his tea.
“Ah, well, yes,” He wiped at the stray tea drops with his napkin. “I love you, too.”
“That song you were humming... it’s from Wicked , right?” Aziraphale picked up his knife and began spreading out the strawberry jam onto his toast.
“Hmm? Is it? I didn’t notice,” Crowley replied, feeling a small blush at the memory of that night a few months ago when he came this close to mucking things up.
“It’s the song I kissed you to that night you thought I didn’t love you.” Aziraphale leaned down and took a bite of his toast. Crowley could tell from his cheeks that he was smiling.
Crowley spit out the rest of his tea. Aziraphale tutted at him and snapped, miracling the splash zone dry.
“Now, really, darling, must we with the theatrics this early?” Aziraphale still had that twinkle in his eye that told Crowley he thought this was all highly amusing.
Crowley groaned.
“Why would you bring that up? We were having such a lovely morning.” Crowley picked up his fork and mumbled around his bite. “Please don’t remind me of the most embarrassing moment in my 6,000 years of life.”
“What about that time your horse kicked you square in the head in front of King Arthur?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrow and Crowley could already tell that he had a list of embarrassing Crowley moments building up in his head.
“How about one of the most embarrassing moments, then, hm?” Crowley could not believe he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with someone who could most likely name every single moment he has ever publicly floundered at the drop of a hat.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
“What about that time with Queen Elizabeth-”
Aziraphale was promptly cut off by Crowley throwing his toast across the table, the jam side smacking Aziraphale square in the nose.
“Did you… just throw your toast at me?” Aziraphale asked as the slice slid down his face.
“No? I wonder where that came from, should get that checked out,” Crowley said as he smiled at Aziraphale. “Also, you’ve got a little something, right there.” Crowley reached over and swiped some jam from Aziraphale’s nose and licked his finger.
“Good jam, should tell Anne thank you and to send more when she gets the chance.” Crowley stood up collecting his plate and silverware. “You all done?”
Crowley reached for Aziraphale’s plate when he was hit with a pie.
“Where did you- that’s not- oh-ho-ho, that’s not fair !” Crowley wiped at the whipped cream now covering his face.
Aziraphale leaned forward and licked some cream off of his cheek.
“You never said we had to play fair , dear,” Aziraphale giggled. And for Heaven’s sake, Crowley just loved him so much. So he said so.
“I love you, Angel. So much.”
Aziraphale stopped giggling and reached up to push some of Crowley’s hair off of his forehead.
“I know. I love you, too. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up!” Aziraphale snapped the dishes out of Crowley’s hold, grabbed his hand, and began towing him toward their bathroom.
Crowley smiled at the back of Aziraphale’s head. He really was the dumbest, most embarrassing, luckiest demon in the entire planet.
Thank Someone for that.