Chapter Text
"Darling?"
Although Aziraphale had rushed inside the bookshop, absent-minded enough to not even shut the door behind himself, his voice lacked the usual tell-tale signs of anxiety that in turn made the demon anxious. His angel sounded curious and so very soft and Crowley felt himself relax further into the sofa. He didn't even lift his head from his phone.
"Yeah?"
Shuffling, before fingers were running through his hair, scratching at his scalp and, oh, that was good. There was no way Aziraphale was worried about something if he had decided to start the conversation this way. Crowley leant into the touch with a little hiss, not unlike a fussy house cat.
"Do you have any idea why Mr. Brown asked after the health of my partner?"
And apparently, Crowley had been wrong. He felt his limbs grow cold as his stomach plummeted to the lowest circles of Hell. Even Aziraphale's gentle touch wasn't enough to dull the sharpness of his next words.
"Because humans tend to like putting labels on other people's relationships?" he whispered, hoping that the low volume would be enough to obscure the serrated edges of his voice. He still hadn't met Aziraphale's eyes. "And you have a partner now, remember?"
Forgive him if he was still feeling a little raw after everything that had happened between them. Or rather... Please, don't. Those words still stung a little.
A sharp intake of breath, a herald of soft touches and even softer words and for once Crowley leant into the onslaught. Aziraphale's fingers turned even more gentle, his voice - hushed and frantic and just a touch too reverent for a demon's soul.
"Oh, no, my darling. You misunderstand- You- You know, I adore you so, sweetheart, and I would never make you insecure about my feelings again. That's not-" Finally, Aziraphale took in a breath he didn't need and seemed to compose himself. Crowley tried hard not to feel bereft at the return of composure. "He meant my business partner."
Crowley's next words, now more a teasing gibe than the sour of betrayal he had felt only a flash of, froze on his lips.
"Are you sure, angel?"
Aziraphale sighed, before patting Crowley's knees, which the demon folded quickly, making space for his angel on the sofa. He still did, even when his brain had frozen in the process of assimilating this new information. But his signature grumbling was missing, a clear sign that he was not all there, a fact Aziraphale ignored generously. Crowley waited for the other to make himself comfortable by his side before propping his feet back down, now comfortably cushioned by the angel's lap. Not that brain-dead to miss that kind of opportunity, at least. Never would be, even if he was actually missing a brain.
"Yes, darling." Aziraphale's fingers wrapped around his ankles. "I'm pretty sure I can tell when someone refers to my fiance as my 'business partner'. Have you been speaking to Mr. Brown perhaps?"
Sidestepping the whole fiance business, the word still managed to make something warm squirm in his stomach and the timing was not the best when he was trying to think, Crowley made a face. Now that he wasn't trying to avoid Aziraphale's gaze, it wasn't hard to share a disapproving look.
"You know I don't speak to that man. Not after..." Something occurred to him. "Do you think perhaps that's his way of making sense of-" Crowley's hand fluttered in the space between them and Crowley himself tried very hard to ignore the indulgent smile that spilled all over his angel's face at the gesture. "Maybe it's his way of saying he approves. Who knows? Who cares! I certainly don't need that asshole's blessing, do you?"
Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully, his fingers leaving their perch on top of Crowley's bony ankles, running over his shin, up over suddenly weak knees to curl around his thigh and- Crowley could certainly think of something better to do than discuss the weird behaviour of one weird neighbour. He was already shifting, trying to sit up without dislodging the hand on his leg. There was no danger of that, Aziraphale was holding onto him tightly, fingers digging into the meat of him, even as his gaze was still lost somewhere over Crowley's left shoulder.
"He has been exceedingly nice to me ever since I came back. He said he was happy that my problems with the law were finally over so I could return to 'the living'. Those were the words he used, 'return to'-"
Aziraphale's eyes finally met Crowley's, before shifting to take in the whole picture. From his own fingers wrapped around the other's thigh, to the rapid rise and fall of Crowley's chest, the tension in the demon's hands, posed to strike, before ending the tour of the other's body at the starting point - amber eyes, dark with need and desire. Having, correctly, come to the same conclusion Crowley had come to, namely, that Mr. Brown could wait, Aziraphale leant forward.
But Crowley's interest had been piqued. First, Mr. Brown calling him his angel's business partner, and then bringing up Aziraphale's apparent 'problems with the law'? There was something there and he needed to inves- Having probably sensed Crowley's lack of full attention, Aziraphale, the bastard, had moved lower and was now mouthing at his throat. And, oh, the fingers were inching up now, smoothing over the sharpness of his hips before-
Later. He would investigate later.
It was surprisingly easy to dig out all the rumours, concerning their relationship, that had been floating around. Almost shamefully easy and Crowley would have probably felt embarrassed for having needed so long to figure it all out. But he also knew that at any point in their long history together, perhaps barring the last few years, he had been too focused on hiding those feelings from the only creature that mattered to consider how they might spill over in view of anyone else.
Still, it was almost impressive, the way that the whole neighbourhood had seen those feelings and had interpreted them through their own prism of expectations, assumptions and life experiences. How was he expected not to use that knowledge for evil?
He was a demon, still, even if a retired one. And he was sure Aziraphale would hardly mind, once he decided to bring him in on the plan. But, first, he was going to have fun with it.
His first victim was, obviously, Mr. Brown. Partly as a gesture of gratitude for opening the demon's eyes to the whole web of misunderstandings around them and partly because he was the funniest one of them to tease. Also, maybe Crowley was still holding a grudge. He was allowed, re: the still-a-demon thing.
A few weeks of lurking in Mr. Brown's shadows were more than enough for Crowley to know everything there was to know about the man. What could he say, Mr. Brown wasn't exactly a thrilling individual. And Thursdays appeared to be date nights for Mr and Mr. Brown. Just that little titbit would have probably saved Crowley a lot of frustration and, apparently misplaced, anger. Not to mention the few, harmless really, curses he had put on the man.
It didn't take long to lure his angel to Ms. Cheng's restaurant. A few priorly whispered words of suggestion and a wiggle of a finger and they were even sat next to Crowley's victim. Aziraphale greeted them, a nod for Mr. Brown and a dazzling smile for his husband, while Crowley ignored them. It wouldn't do to start drawing suspicion by acting friendly too early into the game. Instead, he did what he always did. He waited for his angel to make himself comfortable, before tucking his chair closer to the table. The smile that he received, always blinding, always gorgeous, was almost enough to distract him from his goal.
But, no, he was going to be strong. What sort of a demon couldn't even remain focused for a few minutes to pull off a temptation. Well, a lot of them, demons weren't the... smartest usually. But Crowley had always prided himself on being above the demon folk in both intellect and hygiene.
He still kept his hands firmly in his lap, instead of reaching over the table to cradle his angel's. Aziraphale's eyebrows scrunched up deliciously, pink mouth forming an adorable pout and Crowley should definitely say something now, to distract them both, if he didn't want the evening ending up in a disaster.
Problem was, he had completely forgotten his plan.
"Adam called yesterday," he said, voice slightly too high-pitched. A truth. Not a good start. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow over the menu in his hands. "He said he is happy you're finally back to the world of the living and everything with you-know-what has been resolved."
A slight exaggeration - better! He had also used the vaguest possible words to lure his victim's attention. He could see Mr. Brown side-eyeing them.
Aziraphale smiled as he lowered the menu, the greatest form of respect in his angel's world. "Oh, that's so lovely of him! I missed them all so terribly while I was away! We should really go visit them soon, darling? What do you say?"
His angel was looking at him, starry-eyed and eager and so damn pretty and Crowley's first instinct was to say, 'Yes'. Yes, of course they could go, they could go right now. Anything his angel wanted as long as he continued looking at him like that. His second instinct, the more rational one, was to call Adam to see if the boy was available. He had just started Uni, he probably didn't want his weird occult godparents dropping in unannounced.
His third instinct, sadly, was to stick to the game. He was going to make it up to Aziraphale, he was. The moment this was over and Mr. Brown was sufficiently tortured.
Crowley shook his head, his regret not even forced. "Not anytime soon, angel. I'm sorry. I have-" He hesitated, mostly for show, mostly because he wasn't sure how Aziraphale would react to his next words. That was the pain of not sharing his plan with his angel. "I have a few of mine coming over this week."
Aziraphale went still. Mr. Brown's head twitched in their direction.
"A few of yours? Oh, darling, I'm not sure-" Aziraphale floundered, hands fluttering before his chest, cheeks turning scarlet. Oh, but he looked delicious and Crowley surely couldn't be blamed for reaching over the table to gather his hands.
"Not the bad ones." At his angel's glare, he shook his head and quickly amended, "Not the worst ones, you know I would never- And they know to behave themselves, I've made them perfectly aware of what will happen if they don't."
He stared at Aziraphale, willing him to trust him. This had been stupid, he realised, bringing up demons visiting the bookshop, when that topic remained one of the few things they couldn't quite agree on. It made this far too real for Crowley's comfort, his angel's anxiety thick around them both, choking him.
Finally, Aziraphale nodded, a jerk of the chin more than anything but... Enough. Crowley felt his shoulders slump in relief, squeezed at the hands in his grasp.
"Thank you, angel. You know I wouldn't do it if-"
"I know," Aziraphale stopped him, voice firm. "I understand, I do. They need guidance after everything that happened and- And you are the best one to help with that."
Aziraphale nodded again, a proper one this time, and leant over to kiss him. A chaste kiss, nothing more than a delicious slide of his lips against Crowley's and yet enough to cease the demon's brain functions for a while. Or maybe it was the fact his angel had so readily turned his beloved bookshop into a demon refuge, without a second thought, just because Crowley had asked.
Trying to ignore the warmth that threatened to burn him from the inside, Crowley was too busy to stop his grin from spilling all over his face. Not that it mattered, not really, when Aziraphale looked at him like that.
He vowed to call Adam the moment they made it home to see when the young man would be able to meet them.
Under the table, Aziraphale's shoe bumped into his shin, before sliding higher. Okay, well. Maybe tomorrow? Their godson needed his sleep after all, he was a growing boy.
Crowley didn't even notice the way Mr. Brown was staring, fully turned towards them now, his mouth hanging open.
Mutt thought... Well, Crowley had never had a problem with Mutt.
Besides, he had sort of guessed what the other man saw in his relationship with his angel after a few nights spent at the pub. What had started as a chance encounter had quickly grown into a monthly tradition and Crowley usually didn't say that about humans but he... he liked the man. And that had nothing to do with the fact Mutt had seen him cry into his pint more often than anyone else, alive or not.
He still visited the magic shop. He didn't take Aziraphale with him because he was sick of being distracted by his angel at every step of his dastardly plan.
"Crowley!" Mutt greeted him the moment he opened the door. His voice was soft. The same one he reserved only for the closest of his friends and the notion that this also included the demon was still so foreign to Crowley.
"Hey, Mutt." Crowley tipped a two-fingered salute towards the man. He still lingered in the doorway, unsure as to how to handle visiting well, his friend, he supposed, at work. When he finally made it to the counter, his walk was unusually stiff and stilted. It was very hard to be awkward around a person who had nursed you through the biggest heartbreak of your immortal life and yet, here Crowley was, giving it a very valiant try. "How is Andrew?"
That was always a safe bet. There was nothing that could distract Mutt more than the mention of his partner. And as expected, Mutt's face broke into a grin.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old." Mutt waved a hand dismissively but Crowley wouldn't be fooled so easily. He leant closer, expectantly. It didn't take long before Mutt's grin was widening, taking on a proud tinge. "They got that promotion, did I tell you? We didn't think they would, especially with how their manager was behaving but all of a sudden the old fool decided to just quit on the spot, a few months before he could retire. And who better to step in than my beautiful and very capable spouse."
Crowley, who had an inkling as to why that ancient asshole and an all sorts of -phobe had left their position, could only smirk. Least he could do. Not to mention he did have to spend all his demonic energy on something and terrorising his neighbours was only one part of his daily routine.
"I'm glad, they deserved it." Crowley nodded before flexing a finger. Just in case someone else decided to be rude to Mutt's partner.
Mutt waved a hand again, but his proud little smile gave him away. Probably sensing that, the man quickly changed the subject to what Crowley knew they would inevitably come to.
"I heard Mr. Fell is back, too. How quickly that man arose from the dead! It's remarkable, he needs to give Jesus some pointers."
Crowley tipped his head back with a groan while Mutt laughed. That again... He had hoped, now that Aziraphale was back, that the rumour would finally die the same horrible death his angel had suffered, at least in the minds of half the street.
"That's just-"
"- A vicious rumour, I know." Mutt, who had spent the better part of last year listening to Crowley whinge, knew that wasn't why Aziraphale had left. Of course, he did also think it had something to do with their rival families, but that was as close to the truth as you could get without going into sermonising so the demon had let him believe it happily. "I did tell you he would be back, though, didn't I? Never seen a man so smitten."
And maybe Crowley had never really learnt how to act around friends or maintain relationships, save for one particular angel, because he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into that delicious bait.
"Except maybe in the mirror?"
And maybe Mutt hadn't really mastered those skills either, because all he did was laugh.
"I hope you are referring to yourself and your mirror, Crowley." Mutt didn't even have the decency to let him retort before he was jerking a chin towards the demon's hand with a smirk. "I see congratulations are in order. You or him?"
Crowley ducked his head, far too conscious of the way his cheeks were suddenly burning. He flexed his hand, gazing at the simple golden band on his finger, almost in wonder. Almost as if he was surprised to see it there. Which, in all honesty, wasn't too far from the truth.
"Him," finally he answered, almost shyly. But if Mutt was going to judge him, he had missed his cue by about a year, so Crowley tried not to worry too much. There was no reason for it, he realised quickly as his gaze turned to the man. Mutt was looking at him with the same sort of pride he had shown for his spouse and it rendered Crowley speechless for a few seconds.
"He proposed a few weeks ago. He wants a big wedding, all of our friends, an announcement in the papers, if you could believe it. The whole thing. I keep insisting I don't need one. It feels silly after almost an eternity together to make such a fuss. He knows I'm his and I know I'm his, so not much of a point, really. But he keeps saying he wants to show me that he would never leave again, that he is mine and-" Crowley shrugged. "I've never been very good at saying no to him."
Mutt's smile had lost its teasing edge, instead turning so gentle Crowley could barely stand it. He waved a hand, as if to chase away all those pesky emotions.
"Now, how about you sell me some magic tricks, suitable for the angel's non-existent skills so he doesn't throw me out on the street for coming back empty-handed."
Mutt knew him well-enough to recognise when he could push for more and when he should pretend alongside Crowley that the demon had no feelings whatsoever. With a smile, the shopkeeper led him to the corner he had dedicated for the things he thought Mr. Fell might like.