Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘Ineffable love’ was currently at the top of the country's dating agencies. The face of Anathema Device, founder of Ineffable Love, was everywhere in London: on billboards, buses, magazine covers. Last week, whether you were listening to the radio or watching the news, you couldn't miss this figure: a tall woman whose eyes seemed to pierce you even through the pictures.

In ten years, Miss Device had built an empire that many envied her. People thought she had a building in the heart of London with a host of employees. The reality was quite different. Descendant from an American family that had made good investments in the past, she had founded her dating agency to use her talents and fill her days. She only had a simple office that, admittedly, was in the heart of London. But her only employee was the secretary she had recruited because of her soft and reassuring voice. No one outside her clients, her secretary, her best friend and her husband knew where she was and how exactly she worked. All of them had obviously signed a contract obliging them to keep the secrets of her business safe.

This morning, she had been invited by the BBC to talk about herself and her agency. Her interviewer, Charles Goldman, had asked her the questions that all the journalists she met wanted answers to. She never gave them away.

"Miss Device, thank you for being with us." began Mr. Goldman. "You are the most famous matchmaker in the country at the head of the dating agency Ineffable Love. You claim to have a 100% success rate. Don't you ever get it wrong?”

Apparently, the journalists had really not changed their questions after so many years. The media excitement around her agency had begun five years earlier after an article in the tabloids that claimed a witch could make you meet the love of your life. People underestimated the power of tabloids and social networks. From a trash article five years ago, she made the cover of GQ this year after her wedding.

"Look, Mr. Goldman, after ten years, I think if I had failed one of my clients, they would have made themselves known to the media. Where are they? They do not exist. My method is reliable and it leaves no room for chance.”

"No one really knows your method except your clients. A few years ago, some tabloids believed that you found future couples through witchcraft. If it's not witchcraft, how do you do it?" Anathema smiled. She was used to these questions and answered them almost automatically.

"Of course it's not witchcraft. Who would bet their future love life on luck? No, Charles, can I call you Charles?" She knew the power she had over men and played it. "It's science. For several months, my clients are subjected to a perfectly calculated plan that, if it is respected, leads them to discover their soul mate."

At least that's what she told her clients. Between her impeccable success rate and her five-step plan, the most skeptical were convinced that the person she was making them meet had been selected on objective criteria, perhaps with an algorithm they could not understand. The reality was very different because the tabloids had been right. Anathema Device was a witch and a descendant of witches. Her great-great-great-great-grandmother, Agnes Nutter, had predicted a number of events concerning her offspring quite correctly.

In accordance with her predictions, Anathema had a gift for reading people: their feelings, their dreams, their secrets and especially their auras. She could retain an aura for years and if she saw an aura complimenting the aura of someone else, these two people could fall in love. Not being an exact science, the compatible auras she saw were often around 90%. Therefore, she had a margin of error, very rare, but existing. For the time being, she had never met two people with 100% matching auras but having a compatible aura was enough to guarantee love.

Of course, she had explained auras and witchcraft to her clients at the beginning of her agency. Some people didn't believe it, but they came because someone recommended her to them, so even the skeptics tried.

When her agency had become famous, she had to come up with a plan that she called "the plan of love" (yes, she had embraced all the clichés but, what do you want? Clichés sell). A multi-step plan that her clients were under a contractual obligation to stick to, in order to be sure that in the end, the stranger they had met in her office was the love of their lives, their soul mate.

"Yet," Charles Goldman said again “on your site, you ask for photos from the hands of people who ask for your services. The date and time of birth are mandatory in order to deduce astrological signs. These elements are not standard among your competitors.”

"If my competitors don't check that their customers have clean nails, that's not my problem." She had to force her laughter at that moment but Goldman as the audience appreciated the humor.

"Speaking of your customers, your waiting list is apparently not clear. After how many months of registration on your site can someone expect to be received in your offices?”

The only way to be one of the singles Ineffable Love agreed to take care of was to apply online. The request was completely free of charge with many legal boundaries to ensure that the information collected by the agency would only be used by the agency. Anathema Device only took the people she was interested in as customers. She didn't need the money or the work. She wanted to help and share her gift with people who were unlucky in matters concerning love.

For this purpose, with the help of her husband, she had drawn up a long and personal questionnaire. Obviously, you had the classic questions about personal tastes: sexual orientation, favorite food, favorite music, beach or mountain, marriage, children. In short, nothing very exciting. The second part of the form was what she relied on, with her personal instinct, to choose her clients. The answers were free and without word limits.

- What do you think of religion?

- Do you believe in love? What about soul mate?

- What would be your ideal day?

- If you were to die now, during filling out this form, would you have any regrets?

- Describe yourself

These seemingly simple questions allowed Anathema to understand people much more than she could explain. When she read the answers, she knew she had found a future customer when she felt a small pinch in her belly button. She knew her gift and how it manifested itself.

So, there was no waiting lists at Ineffable Love. However, she had a list of people she had met once who expected her to find their future partner. This could take several months for her. Those she had not selected received an automatic email from the agency :

Dear Madam or Sir,

In view of your profile, Ineffable Love is sorry to inform you that it cannot meet your expectations.

We are sorry about this and wish you all the best for the future.

Anathema Device - Matchmaker

She thought about all this before answering. "The waiting list at Ineffable Love does not exist. I estimate on the forms if I can meet the expectations of the people who send me their answers. The only waiting list is after acceptance because I need time to find the future partner." Goldman looked skeptical, but that didn't destabilize Anathema.

"Is that how you met your husband?" he asked her.

She was expecting the question. Anathema Device, a famous matchmaker, had made the headlines when she announced her marriage to Newton Pulsifer a year ago. The wedding had taken place three months earlier. Her own celibacy (she was not but the medias didn’t need to know) had been blamed on her for many years.

"No, my husband is not a customer. I met him thanks to my best friend." Crowley had introduced her to Newton one night when she went to Eden, Crowley’s nightclub / bar to see him. That was before the success of Ineffable Love. Newton was then a bartender after trying to become a computer engineer. He had spilled her order on her. She fell in love immediately as Agnes had predicted.

"You are here this morning because you have been elected the most influential woman in England by Business Magazine. Do you feel you deserve this title?" Of course, Charles Goldman, male, white, over fifty years old and a BBC journalist did not think she deserved this.

Anathema smiled. "I am convinced that the reason I received this title is because the jury members have given serious thought to the issue. To put forward a young Latino woman, whose business is based on love and outside a company whose capital is listed on the stock exchange, is against all previous selections. I am honored by this title." Goldman nodded because that's what he had to do.

"Thank you, Miss Device, for coming this morning to answer our questions.”

"Thanks to you." she replied as she stood up. The advertising break was announced. She was able to stand up, shake hands with her interviewer and walk to the technical team to have her microphone removed. She hated parading on TV, but she had to do it. The more public she was, the more people tried to be her clients, the more she could help.

When she left the building containing the BBC's premises, it was already ten o'clock. She had an appointment with a new customer at 11:00 a. m. She would have plenty of time to pick up a cappuccino to go before heading to her office. She heard her cellphone ringing. The screen displayed the name of her best friend: Anthony J. Crowley. She answered.

"Hey, witch. Nice interview, you handled it well.”

"Hello Crowley, already awake? I am impressed." He was rarely available before noon and all the more so since he had become Eden's boss.

"I wasn't going to miss your big interview and you know it! Are you available for lunch ? Shall we eat together? I can bring you that lentil dhal you love so much from the Indian restaurant near my house.”

"You'd be a sweetheart! I have an appointment beforehand, so noon.”

"Noted. See you later, witch.”

After picking up her cappuccino, Anathema arrived in her office about ten minutes before the meeting with her new client. Her secretary informed her that her appointment had already arrived. She, who was early, felt slightly late. However, she did not go to greet him immediately and checked that she had all the elements she needed.

The first thing she always checked before an appointment was whether her potential future client had signed the contract that required them to keep secret not only the location of the Ineffable Love agency but also the whole interview with Anathema. This interview was necessary for her to see the clients’ aura. She pretended it was an interview to reveal the plan that her client would be required to follow. Yes, he had signed the contract!

Aziraphale Fell was his name, indicated by his profile. 45-year-old male. Bookseller. Enjoys sushi, classical music, walks in the park and books. Anathema had been very moved by his answer to the question about religion and the problem that his faith had posed for him when he understood that he was homosexual. He had written that he was a romantic (well, he thought) but did not know if he believed in soul mates. If they were real, he was hoping to meet his. The way he described himself had shown a good deal of self-confidence and above all a lot of humor. The pinch at Anthema’s belly had arrived as soon as she had read his name. His heart line on his hand had shown an individual with his feet on the ground and a depth that demonstrated his ability to love and his sincerity.

She got up and opened the door to her office. In the waiting room awaited Aziraphale. She went to meet him and waited for him to get up to shake his hand. She never asked for pictures and so that was the first time she saw him.

The first thing she noticed was his almost white blond hair. She wondered if it were natural. She was impressed by the blue of his eyes and by his smile, as warm as his handshake. He wore a tartan bow tie and a beige suit. He looked like an Oxford literature professor or a Victorian character.

"Mr. Fell, it's a pleasure to meet you. I am Anathema Device. Please, after you." She showed her office with a gesture of the hand and let her new client in first. She closed the door and sat down. She had a very good first impression of him and her first impressions were always right.

"Thank you for receiving me, Miss Device. I understood that it was quite difficult to have an appointment with your agency." He didn't seem like the kind of person who used agencies or dating sites, even a computer. Anathema was curious.

"How did you hear about my agency, Mr. Fell?"

"By a friend of mine. She advised me to try your agency after I refused to register on one social media or another one whose name I have already forgotten." Anathema loved his voice and the way he held himself. He was straight in the chair with his hands on his thighs. She wondered which of her clients he would go with.

"This is often the case. If you are here today, it is so that I can explain how my agency works. If you wish to collaborate with me, this is a long-term commitment, Mr. Fell, not only with your future partner but also with this agency. First of all, I undertake to find you the right person among my clients. This process can take time, up to six months." Mr. Fell had taken out a little notebook and was starting to write down what she was saying. He was really sweet.

She continued. "After that, the process of 'seduction', which is really the time it takes for you to fall in love, will take between six months and a year. This process is in five steps that will be revealed to you as you go along. They are not the same for all my clients except the first one which is a first date in a controlled environment. After each step, we will meet to discuss. I will also have these meetings with your maybe other half. You can decide to stop the process with this person after each step. For the moment, all my clients have completed the process and are happy with the person I have chosen for them. Do you have any questions about my plan ?”

Obviously, the plan was fake, only a pretext for two people who had the potential to fall in love to do so, but she insisted on it.

"So, this process can take up to a year and a half?" It was often the first thing the new customers noticed.

"Absolutely Mr. Fell. It is a long process and I control it. For everything to work, it is necessary to respect the few instructions I can give." In truth, she had very few rules and she adapted them to her clients. "The only rule common to all my clients is the absence of sexual relations until  everyone's feelings are known and discussed." She noticed the red on Mr. Fell's cheeks. Well, he probably needed someone calm and reserved.

"Oh, dear! Very well. I have no further questions for now. If I have any that come to mind later, can I contact you?”

"Of course. During this process, Mr. Fell, I am your best friend. I need to know as much as I can to best adapt my plan." And put all the chances for her fake plan to succeed. "If that's okay with you, here's the contract between you and the agency. I'll let you read it.”

It was while customers were reading the contract that she took the opportunity to read their aura. She didn't read it exactly but she interpreted it. She focused on the blond guy in front of her. She had rarely seen an aura like his. It fell on him like a glory falls from the clouds with white and gold. A feeling of calm and love emanated from his colors. There was loneliness too. She was not sure if she had ever seen an aura that could match this one. The auras that could go together were never the same, but they were mostly the same. This was a first. Anathema was facing a challenge.

Once Mr. Fell had finished reading and signing the contract, Anathema promised to get back to him as soon as possible. She went to walk him to the door of the building, but Crowley was already in the waiting room. When he saw Anathema, he stood up and waked towards her and her client.

"Hey, witch. New client?" Seriously, thought Anathema, was he always forced to make people uncomfortable? Especially with his sunglasses on his nose! She shook her head to tell him to be quiet, but the redhead ignored her and reached out his hand. "Anthony J. Crowley, nice to meet you. Don’t believe her, she is a witch!”

The blond reacted better than she had thought and took the hand presented to him. "Aziraphale Fell. The pleasure is all mine.”

That's when if Anathema hadn't paid attention, she would probably have missed everything and said goodbye to her 100% success rate. She was still concentrated enough to detect the auras and when the two shook hands, she felt an energy passing. She looked at her best friend and that aura she knew so well, red and chaotic, full of life and envy. Loneliness too. In contrast to Mr. Fell's, and yet ... They were opposites but the same.

"I'll leave you to it." said Aziraphale. "Thank you again, Miss Device, I look forward to your message." She had no time to say anything because he was already leaving.

"Weird..." commented Crowley. "Aziraphale... Which parents give such a name to their kid? I have the food." He got the bag and went into Anathema's office.

The latter knew that Crowley did not believe in her method at all. Well, he refused to believe it because she had been right about him and Lucie Morningstar, his ex. And he had been really in love with him. He said that what she was doing was "bullshit" and whether it was soul mates or auras, all that could fuck off.

If she wanted to convince him to give her a chance to put him with someone, she would have to manipulate him. Fortunately, after fifteen years of friendship, she knew how to use her knowledge about her best friend to her advantage. She joined him in his office.

"Is your new client interesting? " Crowley asked. Well, he was interested. The blond was not the type Anathema knew her best friend favored but he had something. And he wouldn't have spoken to him otherwise.

"You know very well that I can't discuss my clients with you, Crowley. Unless you became a customer yourself!”

"I'm not asking you to discuss it and you know I'm not interested." He took out the tupperware and gave Anathema her rice. "Soul mates and love are shit concepts for selling more things on Valentine's Day.”

"I have a 100% success rate..." she noted.

"And I wouldn't want to make you lose it. It's not my style. Best friend here, not enemy for life." He had just given her exactly what she was looking for.

"Exactly, you'd be doing me a favor, you know. To accept to be my client. Completely free of charge, of course. You're the only person I've ever met who could be a challenge for me. You know how I work, that ‘the plan of love’ is totally fake. To succeed with you would ensure my success forever." She had crossed her hands in front of her mouth by placing her elbows on her desk. She was sure she would succeed.

"Wait, you mean you want to try to find me someone when I know your plan is useless because you're reading the auras." He waved his hands at the same time as he said 'reading the auras'. "And that I don't believe in it at all. You know, I think you don’t have a gift but intuitions. To be a witch is to be a woman of power and not to make incantations under the moonlight. You taught me that !”

"Yes I know, but if I succeed, you will have to recognize my gift and obviously name me best woman at your wedding!" Her strategy was good, she had him under her spell. It was perfect.

Crowley looked at her with what she imagined behind his sunglasses to be an interrogative look. He ate a fork of rice before answering. "Why not. And if you can't find me anyone, you'll have to divorce Newton and marry me." A bet without real stakes. They both loved each other very much, but they could never be together. "Does that mean I'll have to fill out your rotten, useless questionnaire?”

"Like everyone else." she replied as she began to eat her dahl.

Anathema Device, matchmaker, creator of the Ineffable Love agency, had a mission: to make Anthony J. Crowley and Aziraphale Fell happy for ever.

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Anthony J. Crowley didn't think he would ever do, it was fill out a questionnaire for a dating agency. Of course, his best friend was the head of the country's largest said agency, but that didn't stop him from hating the process. Seriously, why couldn't people go out and meet other people in person instead?

Okay, he had never met anyone really interesting since he took over as Eden's manager and the club was his whole life, literally. Okay, Anathema had succeeded in bringing together people who would never have spoken to each other in everyday life. But no, no, no. It wasn't for him, he was convinced of it.

And seriously... These questions!?  They were so fucking stupid. What did he think of religion? Nothing. No, he didn't believe in love by magic and didn't believe in soul mates. An ideal day was a day spent sleeping in his huge bed and the only thing he would regret if he had to die while filling out this form would be to die while filling out this fucking form!

Enraged, he put down his computer on the coffee table and went into his kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Anthony owned an apartment in Mayfair that was absolutely to his liking: sleek and grey. His kitchen was also dominated by these tones and especially his coffee machine, a last generation machine that could make all the coffees possible. He only used it for espressos.! He ruminated as he put his cup under the machine so that it could be filled.

Why did he say yes to Anathema again? He knew she had something in mind. If she had never asked him to register on her site before, it was for a reason she did so now. She was up to something, no good …

After getting his computer back, Crowley sat down and thought. His best friend was the head of a successful agency. Maybe he had to give her the benefit of the doubt. Not about her powers, only about her ability to find him someone. Magic was something only for Harry Potter, not the real world.

All right. If you have to do this, do this with style, he thought.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: New form - Anthony J. Crowley

A new request has been registered on your site: IneffableLove.uk

New Dating Profile :

Name: Anthony J. Crowley

Age: 44 years old

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Favorite color: Black, even if it is not a color

Favorite object: The Bentley but it's not just an object...

Favorite book: The big book of astronomy

Favorite food: Red wine

Favorite drink: Scotch

*To see the whole profile, click here *

Looking at her email, Anathema began to smile. She didn't know how this was going to work, but she definitely felt that little pinch that indicated a winning profile.

---- 

Aziraphale didn't expect to receive a phone call from Miss Device so quickly. If he didn't regret registering on the matchmaker's site as Tracy had advised him, he was relieved when Anathema (Could he call her Anathema? She said to consider her a friend in this adventure, after all. He could refer to her as he wished in his mind, maybe …) had told him that he would have to wait up to six months before she found someone for him. That would give him time to be ready, maybe to update his wardrobe a little bit. He had no intention of changing his style but maybe he could try another tartan color on his bow tie …

He was reading when he received a call on his landline. Fortunately, the call came on this line, he had lost his mobile phone again, which must have hidden between two books on a shelf. He was unable to identify which one.

"Hello Mr. Fell, Anathema Device, I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

"You are not, Miss Device." Actually, she was disturbing him a little. After all, he was reading.  However, he was delighted to hear this voice which, he hoped, would bring good news. " I must confess, I'm surprised to hear from you so soon after our meeting.”

"I know it's only been a week, Mr. Fell, but apparently you're lucky," or rather, I convinced my best friend to play the game, Anathema thought. "Shortly after we met, a new request was made on the site and I think this person will be perfect for you.”

"I'm glad to hear you say it. I suppose you were calling me to see to the details of the first meeting." Aziraphale felt like a teenager who had asked his best friend to give a note to his crush. He really wondered who Anathema had selected for him.

"Exactly. I wanted to know if a date next Saturday would be convenient for you ? This first meeting must take place during the day. I thought a sushi restaurant might be right for you.”

"Let me look at my schedule." Aziraphale looked for his agenda under a pile of paper on his desk. He had nothing planned for Saturday. He didn't know if he was disappointed to not have an excuse to avoid having this first meeting ... "I am available next Saturday, dear.”  

"Perfect! I will send you the details by email. Also, I will send you a catalog of questions which, this time, are not for me. These are examples of questions you can ask on your date and, above all, there is a whole section of questions you should not ask. Read this quietly and if you have any questions or doubts, Mr. Fell, I am here at any time to listen to you and support you in this process.”

"Oh, thank you, Miss Device." This woman really gave the impression of being nicer than everybody else ,but it was her job right? "I look forward to your email and to Saturday.”

"I am very happy you feel that way. Please, call me if you need anything, especially before the date. I wouldn't want stress to paralyze you. Very good end of the day to you, Mr. Fell.”

Aziraphale hung up and smiled. It would be a strange experience...

---

"Anathema, what the fucking fuck!?" Crowley was outside the sushi shop where he was expected to meet the future love of his life. Anathema, applying her policy, (her crap policy, Crowley had added when they were on the phone) refused to tell him the name of the person with whom he had a meeting … A date ... She had told him in a mysterious tone that he would recognize him...

So, Crowley had found himself one Saturday in September in front of a sushi shop. Frankly he hated sushi, who eats raw fish? And, through the window, he had seen who his date was. Very quickly, he turned to call his best friend. "You did it on purpose, didn't you, witch?”

"You'll thank me later." Anathema simply replied, which made Crowley want to throw her into a pool as he had done last summer while she was quietly tanning on the edge of it. Her scream of shock had made him burst out laughing. "Have a good time!”

"Don't you dare! Don't hang up now!” Crowley protested.

It was too late. The line was cut, and he had to enter this restaurant (can a place that serves uncooked food be considered a restaurant?) otherwise he would be late. He didn't want to give a bad first impression. Why didn’t he ? He had no idea. Especially since it would be a second impression. He had already met the blond guy two weeks earlier. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Crowley took the time to regain control over himself again and entered. He was hoping to look cool. After spending most of the morning getting ready to look as if he was unprepared, it was out of the question that an argument with Anathema would be his doom. He was now sure that Anathema had manipulated him to get here.

Maybe I shouldn't even go see the cute blond guy with his perfect hair and victorian look just to teach my best friend about life, he thought to himself as he took the chair in front of Aziraphale and sat down.

"So, you're my date?" Wow, smooth, perfect Crowley. He's not gonna think you're a fucking idiot if you start like that. Not-at-all.

"Oh, hello, dear. You're here because of Miss Device, I suppose." The blond smiled. A smile like that should be illegal. Aziraphale held out his hand to him. "It's good to see you again, Anthony.”

Oh, thought Anthony, he remembered me ... He shook his hand.

"Nice to see you again, too, Aziraphale. I prefer Crowley, if you don't mind." His first name was reserved for a whole other level of intimacy.

If, on the surface, Aziraphale looked totally composed and just smiling, he was screaming in his head. Of course, he noticed Anthony, no, Crowley, when he left Anathema's office two weeks ago. Who didn't notice a man like that? With his medium-length hair? His sunglasses? His jaw? He absolutely did not expect to see him today. This man looked like a rock star and well, Aziraphale was a bookseller.

It would never work. Right ? Maybe ? He didn’t know. He was just struck.

Finally, he calmed himself. If you have a date with the dreamy good looking bad boy type, you might as well enjoy it. When he brought his hand close to him, it had a slight tingling sensation...

"I didn't think you were a client of the agency." Aziraphale was going to talk, he had to talk, he was stressed. "You seemed to know Miss Device.”

"I know Anathema very well." What's the point of lying, Anathema didn't ask me to. "She has been my best friend for years and only recently convinced me to join her agency." And he was convinced that it was because of the man in front of him that she had done it.

A waitress arrived and asked them what they wanted to order. Aziraphale ordered everything he wanted, and Crowley was satisfied with avocado makis. Once she left, the conversation resumed as if it hadn't stopped.

"Oh, lucky for me." Aziraphale, pull yourself together! Seriously ! Okay, he's attractive, but you're not an 18-year-old male virgin. "Did she send you the questionnaire too?”

"Yep. Total bullocks, if you ask me." Frankly, Anathema had too many rules for nothing.

"What do you mean, dear?" asked the blond man who had his whole attention focused on Crowley.

"Why would some questions be taboo? Especially for a first date like this! Might as well put everything on the table, no surprises that way." If there was one thing Crowley hated, it was the secrets kept. "What we do in life, if we want to get married, have children, that's fine, but that's not the basis of a relationship, the most interesting things about people.”

"I suppose you're talking from experience here ..." Crowley didn't answer because it wasn't a question. Aziraphale, meanwhile, was thinking about what the redhead (God, was his hair red?) had told him. He was right ... "You should ask me the questions we're not supposed to ask.”

Crowley looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses. Aziraphale had a satisfied smile. "What? Are you sure?"

"Certain." said Aziraphale. "Or I can start, if you prefer. I remember some of them. For example, why did your last relationship end?”

Arf, he had to start with that. "My last relationship ended because he cheated on me. Well, my last serious relationship." A serious relationship for Crowley was a relationship that lasted at least a year, below that it didn't really matter. Of course, that was certainly not the way he was perceived. Aziraphale was thinking that the man in front of him must have a lot of one-night stand … He didn’t. "Since then, I've met people, but they weren't interesting enough or didn't want the same things as me. You?”

"I'm really sorry for you. Nothing that bad happened in my last relationship. We realized that we were together out of habit and that we no longer did anything together. It was a very clean separation and we remained friends.” Oscar was not his closest friend but they went along. He would be invited to his weeding! “You can choose the next prohibited question if you’d like" It was quite exciting, answering questions they weren't supposed to ask. Aziraphale wondered how Anathema would react when he told her.

"God?" Crowley simply asked.

"What about her?”

"Do you think God is a woman? Interesting point of view." It was an intriguing answer and so, Crowley was intrigued.

"I have long used the pronouns she/her for God. I come from a Catholic family, hence my first name. I have stopped believing in the dogmas of the Catholic Church but I am still a believer. Most of the times.” Faith was hard when you belonged to the LGBT+ family.

"Homophobic family?" Crowley knew the answer would be yes. He didn’t know any religious family really cool with their LGBT+ kids. He hated it.

"And racist. Conservative. Rich. Where appearances are the only things that matter. Expectations that, if not met, make you a less-than-nothing in the family. In short, a family not so extraordinary. It also answers the question about my family ties.”

"I appreciate your honesty." And really, it was appreciated. Crowley even let himself be tempted and began to eat the few makis that had been served without him noticing. "I haven’ believed in God since high school. When I discovered philosophy, I wondered why I still believed in God and realized that it was only because I was afraid of death. Believing in God gave me the impression that my life would not really end, but apart from that, I could make the same choices without believing. So, I stopped." He then noticed Aziraphale's manicured hand holding his chopsticks. Beautiful hands. What a stupid thought. "Regarding family, not especially close, no particular problems. We meet from time to time for Christmas and birthdays. Phone call every two months. Just nothing special.”

Aziraphale watched him speak. The man in front of him was really beautiful. He would have been exactly the kind of person he would have had a crush on in high school. He wondered if he could ask how he got his tattoo and if he had any others and why he wore glasses in a restaurant. Perhaps for later, he already had to ask the many forbidden questions by Anathema after all.

"What are the remaining questions again? " Aziraphale asked. He had been staring so much, his brain was rebooting.

"I'll check it out!" Crowley took out his phone, black and slim. Like him, thought Aziraphale. "Oh yes, why are you single? I feel like we already answered it. With the exes’ talk.”

"I don't think we've fully answered it. And I don't think we're in the best position to answer either. I will say for my part that I don't go out enough to meet people who might be suitable for me.” He didn’t really like socializing. He had his book club, his friends. It was enough.

"Opposite, for me." Crowley noted the questioning look. "I work in a bar/nightclub." He didn't specify that he was the boss. It didn't matter. "So, I meet people. Not interesting ones.”

"What makes someone interesting to you?" They were going to go back to the authorized questions with this one. Aziraphale knew it, but he was curious. He had stopped eating to talk to the redhead. It was a very clear sign.

"Hmm" Crowley was caught off guard. He had never really thought about it. "I think you have to have things in common but differences. To enrich each other. This kind of bullshit we get served but it turns out to be very true. A strong friendship. With physical attraction.” He thought about it more. “No, it's totally stupid what I just said, you can be with someone who doesn't have a physical attraction for you and that's fine too. For me, there should be some, at least, even if it is not essential. That's it, in short. I think." Frankly, why was Anathema asking them not to drink alcohol for a first date? He wanted to know about Aziraphale.

"I fully agree with you, dear." Dear, who was still saying dear? “We need something in common, don't we? So that we can then go further. Well not we, but in general …" What was Aziraphale going to have in common with someone who dressed like that and worked in a nightclub, he had no idea.

He was about to ask another question to the man in front of him when Crowley's phone rang. He had put it on the table after checking the questions they were not supposed to ask. He quickly saw a compromising picture of Miss Device. Crowley apologized before answering. He only listened before hanging up.

"Apparently, our time is up..." Crowley didn't want to stop this date. He had intended to order something or invite the blond to have coffee together afterwards. However, Anathema had threatened him effectively.

"I had totally forgotten that we were limited in time for this first interaction. Since we didn't follow the rules on questions, it would be wiser to stop here for today..." Aziraphale had no desire to stop talking to Crowley. Could he ask him for his phone number? No, Anathema had been very strict about it, everyone had to talk with her before they could go any further. What a disappointment.

"Yes, of course, you're right." Shit, why, Crowley thought. He asked for the bill and paid without even thinking about it. He realized this when his and Aziraphale's eyes met, the blonde… blushed? "That way, you owe me one..." A shitty excuse to see him again, but he hoped it would work.

"Of course. Thank you, Crowley.”

The two men got up and left the restaurant. God, it was embarrassing. They looked at each other and began to mumble something. They stopped at the same time and started laughing.

"Please, you were saying? "said Aziraphale as the gentleman he was trying to be at the time. And definitely not thinking about putting his business card in the back pocket of the perfect jeans of this intriguing man.

"I know we're not supposed to talk about it together, but I had a really good time. I thought it would be a disaster…" It was probably the sincerest first date Crowley ever had.

"I had a really good time too. I hope I can see you again.”

"If you say yes to Anathema, we will soon meet again, angel." The nickname had slipped off his lips by itself, but between this hair and first name, Aziraphale really looked like an angel. That was without mentioning the pallor of his skin and the blue of his eyes … "Do you want to do one last thing that we're not supposed to do?”

"Like what?" Aziraphale asked innocently, but Crowley was sure that it was an act and that he was not as innocent as he seemed. “We shouldn’t …”

"May I kiss you?” He had stopped Aziraphale mid-sentence, but he wanted to know. “At least if it doesn't fit, we'll know and..." Crowley didn't have time to finish his sentence as lips stuck to his. The kiss remained chaste but wow, Crowley was on fire. Aziraphale backed up slightly before putting his mouth near Crowley’s ear.

"Just so you know, I don't have sex on the first night, dear. On the other hand, on the second..." With this, Aziraphale answered another question they weren’t supposed to ask. The blond let his lips brush against Crowley's cheek before walking away to his bookshop, with a big smile on his face. Well, it felt big. When he turned at the end of the street to see if the redhead had gone his way, he found him staring. He waved before crossing the street.

Definitely not innocent, maybe a little bit of a bastard, Crowley thought, before taking his phone to call Anathema.

Chapter Text

Anathema was not happy, not at all. Crowley had decided not to follow the plan and she did not know how to handle this information. Of course, her best friend had spent the first date not respecting her plan. Of course, she suspected he was going to do that. She would never admit it but, she had added authorized questions to the prohibited questions. She also had pointed them out by saying, "especially no matter what you do, don't ask these questions." She didn't think it would work so well, but she had to look pissed off in front of Crowley who was currently sitting in front of her.

Earlier in the day, Anathema's phone had rung, shortly after she informed Anthony that the date had to end. She didn't really think he was going to listen to her, but less than twenty minutes later, a picture of an Anthony dressed up for Halloween with a mustache, to play Freddie Mercury, appeared on her phone.

"Hey, witch. Available tonight?”

"I'm supposed to spend the evening with my husband, you know, Crowley. I can't just come in at the last minute.”

"Come on! Come and have a drink, it'll do you good. If you want, I'll even ask Newt to be the waiter like the old days.”

Newton was a very bad waiter. Anathema had handled the aftermath and paid the incidental costs several times.

"Okay. What time ?”

"I'll be on site at 7:00 p. m. I'll see you later!”

Anathema did not have time to answer since Crowley had already hung up. At least he seemed to be in a good mood. Maybe she wouldn't have to get upset.

After entering the bar (nightclub? bar? She never knew so she had decided bar since Eden was not only open at night), her best friend had joined her and her husband at their usual table where he had put a small booklet "reserved for the witch". This was the kind of little gestures he made to show that she mattered to him. Or just to piss her off. Anathema had still not decided.

The redhead had sent Newton behind the bar after criticizing him for his new haircut or rather the absence of it. Anathema remembered the first time she confessed to Crowley that she loved Newton, he made a memorable face. At the time, she knew it, he thought he wasn't good enough for her. Crowley had certainly not changed his mind, but she was convinced that he loved Newton more than he admitted. Maybe he had been jealous for a while. For a long time, the friendship that Anathema and Crowley had was their respective strongest relationship. Changing the rhythm, welcoming a stranger, it had not been easy for her best friend and Anathema knew it. She was grateful to him for not running away from her husband now.

Once Newton returned with their respective orders in his hands and sat down, Anathema couldn’t take it anymore, she had to know.

"So?", she asked.

"So what?" Crowley wore his sunglasses as usual, but his eyebrow appeared above the frames, returning her question.

"Crowley, seriously, don't play innocent. How was that first date?" It was Newton who asked the question. He and Anathema had made several bets regarding this date: if there would be a second one, if the two men had managed to ask no forbidden questions or only forbidden questions, if Anthony (they never called him by his first name face-to-face but calling Crowley Anthony behind his back was a form of rebellion for Newton) would be completely under the spell or not.

What? They were allowed to have some fun with Anathema's best friend's love life, right?

"I see that the confidentiality you claim to give your clients doesn't apply to everyone, Anathema!" Crowley was playing the offended one, as if someone would believe it.

"Oh, drop the shit Crowley! "Anathema wanted to know, and she was going to know, even if it was only because he had signed a contract and she would not hesitate to show him one clause or another if he continued like that. "How did it go?”

Crowley smiled. Good sign. "Good. Very good, actually. I didn't expect this, but I must admit, it was very interesting.” 

"What does he do for a living again? Ana must have told me, but I don't remember." Newton asked, leading of course, to a sincere and frank answer from Crowley.

"No idea," he simply replied, "the conversation didn't breach the subject." He stared at Anathema, who stared back.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Newton had apparently not understood while his wife was thinking about how she should react. "You didn’t mention yours jobs?”

"I think I mentioned mine but not in detail and he didn't mention his.” Crowley was grinning because he knew Anathema wouldn’t approve.

"What did you talk about, Anthony?" Anathema used his first name knowing that it was the best way to get him to talk.

"Oh, specially subjects forbidden by your questions." The redhead stirred his glass of scotch before bringing it to his lips.

"Of course," finally! She was going to play the game, "I'm telling you what not to talk about and that's the first thing you do!?" She had counted on it, but still.

"If you want to know everything, he's the one who proposed it. "Anathema and Newton looked at him with an interrogating look, as if he had lied. "What? That's true. You can ask him if you don't believe me!”

"I wouldn't have guessed. It's much more something you would do ..." After studying his face, or at least what she saw with her glasses, she decided to believe him.

"Mmmh, yeah, maybe. "said Crowley.

"And?" The question, if it could be called a question, came from Newton. "How did it go? My wife may be interested in the fact that you only talked about topics that were not recommended, I want to know if you liked it, and him.”

"Oh, yeah, I guess." Crowley was trying to be nonchalant on the subject, when, in fact, he had spent the afternoon thinking about the date over and over again in his head. Aziraphale was interesting, more than interesting even. "His lips are very soft." He smirked waiting for Anathema's reaction, which didn't take long. She was drinking her beer and spit it halfway into her drink.

"What? Did you two kiss?" Once again, Newton asked the question while softly tapping the back of his wife who had half choked on her beer. 

"Yep." He had his best friend choke to death. He was very proud of himself!

"Crowley! If it doesn't work, it'll be your fault! Seriously!" Even though she had expected disobedience with the questions, she had not expected that. None of her clients had dared to go against her instructions to this extent!

"Oh, it's okay. If our compatibility is supernatural, a slight kiss won't change that." He was not wrong, actually. But still.

"That doesn't mean anything! You don't even believe in it. And, Mr. Fell doesn't know it and he might think that if he doesn't follow the plan, it won't work!" A possibility she had often thought about for her other clients.

"I'm sure you're overreacting, Ana! I don't think that's his way of thinking." Crowley finished his drink. "Who's up for a second round?" He had finished giving his feedback. He was looking forward to the next step.

-----

Fumbling with his hands, trying to relax, Aziraphale sat in the room, waiting for his appointment with Anathema. Miss Device? Anathema. After his date last Saturday, he had had tea with Tracy and told her everything that had happened. Since then (that is, for four days and two hours), he had wondered if he hadn't romanticized his meeting with the redhead. Maybe he had, but he had felt so comfortable... He had not felt like meeting someone new but rather talking to a friend who had been lost to him for a long time. Being with Crowley, even for a short time, seemed to him the most natural thing in the world, as if they were destined to meet. What a strange thought. When Anathema invited him into his office, he smoothed the folds of his jacket with his hands as he always did to relax.

"So, Mr. Fell?" asked Anathema after sitting in front of him "how was that first meeting?”

"All right, Miss Device. I must admit, I didn't expect to see your friend." He smiled at her. Wow, he looks angelic when he smiles, Anathema thought.

"I imagine, Mr. Fell. Do you want to take the next step in the plan? " She knew the answer, but she still had to pretend.

"Yes, of course!" He answered with a very enthusiastic tone. Come on, Aziraphale, at least let her finish her question. They know each other. You can’t appear too enthusiast. She probably won't tell him anything, but you can do better than that.

Observing the reaction of the man in front of her, Anathema smiles slightly. She was sure that her plan would work. She would have liked to be able to see the two of them together longer than the brief moment she had when they had met in her office, but she followed her instincts, it had never betrayed her.

"Well, if you wish, I suggest you see Mr. Crowley again." No, no, no, she wasn't able to call the man who held her hair after her first real bender Mister. "Crowley, during a workshop. Here is a list of possible workshops I can register you for.”

She passed a paper to Aziraphale who took it out of her hands to study it. The experiences offered were diverse: champagne tasting, salsa classes, a blind evening, wine tasting, etc. Everything seemed both totally horrific and possibly a good time.

Proceeding by elimination, Aziraphale decided that a blind evening or a salsa evening would be bad ideas. He was absolutely out of date on today's music and had two left feet. The last time he had to dance with Oscar, everything went wrong and he almost knocked them both down. Of course, having an excuse to touch Crowley's body may have been good to take, but no, it would have to wait until later.

Then he thought, maybe he didn't need to decide.

"Does Crowley have a preference for any of these workshops?" If he hadn't been able to choose as well, that would be a good thing, wouldn't it?

"He lets you choose saying that, and I quote, 'everything is fine for me as long as you are there'.”

Aziraphale was sure he was blushing. The feeling was mutual. "Oh, okay, in that case, a culinary workshop maybe? "Alcohol made him horny. He didn’t want to appear horny … Too soon.

"All right, if you don't have a preference about what kind of food you're going to prepare, I can choose for you." Anathema felt that he didn't really want to choose more than that.

"If you don't mind, dear.”

"No, Mr. Fell. It would be a pleasure. I'm trying to organize all this as quickly as possible. At the latest, by next week if that's okay with you." Then she added. "If the workshops are things that interest you, you can do several together. Most of my clients are very satisfied with it and it allows them to spend time together.”

"Thank you, Miss Device. I'll think about it." He didn't picture Crowley doing several culinary workshops ... A wine tasting would have been a better choice, right? Oh, he was going to change his mind!

"So," Anathema added, "before letting you go, would you like me to give you Anthony’s number ? And I’ll do the same for him, of course.”

Aziraphale nodded. Of course, he wanted Anthony's number! Had she met the guy? (well, obviously she had) He was dead gorgeous! And he seemed funny and interesting. Aziraphale wanted to know more! Anathema smiled at him. She seemed to be reading his mind and he didn't like it. She got up to shake his hand.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Fell. I hope your second date goes well." Her voice was full of good feelings and warmth and once again, Aziraphale thought that she was incredibly kind. He thanked her and, once at home, did not wait a single second and sent a message to Crowley.

Chapter Text

‘Good evening, Crowley,

I hope I'm not disturbing you. Anathema gave me your number after our interview.

Hoping to see you soon.

Aziraphale Fell'.

Why did he click 'send' without thinking? That message was probably the lamest he'd ever written. Nothing was right.

(from Crowley) ‘Hey, angel!’

Was Crowley really going to call him that?

(from Crowley) ‘Thanks for the number.’

How was he supposed to answer that? If there was one thing Aziraphale hated, it was technology. Flirting with a rock star, face to face, why not! But understanding what people meant by texts was seriously impossible for him.

(from Crowley) ‘How did it go with Ana?’

Ana? Oh, Miss Device.

‘The meeting went very well, thank you.'

Frankly, he couldn't do that. Texting was too hard.

(from Crowley) ‘So, what activity?’

(from Crowley) ‘For the next time?’

Now that he had to proclaim his choice to Crowley, Aziraphale felt even less certain of it.

‘After considering several choices, I suggested we do a cooking class. If that doesn't suit you, I can always ask Miss Device to change.'

(from Crowley) ‘No’ 

(from Crowley) ‘It's ok’

(from Crowley) ‘It'll be interesting’

Aziraphale was certain it would be interesting. He had a tendency to let the dishes burn, especially if he was stressed. He was certain he'd stress with Crowley next to him.

(from Crowley) ‘I would have thought your choice would be the wine’

‘Why would you think that?’

(from Crowley) ‘A feeling’

(from Crowley) ‘Am I wrong?’

How could he know that? They hadn't spoken for that long...

'No, you're not wrong, I hesitated to pick it.'

(from Crowley) ‘Why not?’

‘Alcohol makes me feel out of control.’

Might as well be honest, right?

(from Crowley)’Oh’

(from Crowley) ‘Horny?’

Well... 

'Yes.'

(from Crowley) ‘Too bad, I'd have liked to have seen that'

(from Crowley) ‘Maybe later?’

Was Crowley flirting with him? In texts? Apparently so.

‘Maybe.’

(from Crowley) ‘Cool’

He was definitely going to like following Anathema's plan!

----

Crowley arrived early at the rendez-vous point he had set with Aziraphale. He took his best posture, one foot against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other used to look at his phone. It was, he thought, a nonchalant and confident posture, which he wasn't, nonchalant and confident. Nervous and full of energy, the posture was this mask he put on to feel secure and correspond to the image he was giving other people. He also had his sunglasses on. They were necessary for his eye condition but, they also added something to his whole ‘bad-boy, don’t come near me’ thing. This image was very different from who he really was, but it allowed him to select who he would or would not let in. And, for the moment, he was too nervous to think about opening up to the dream guy.

Since he had been contacted via message by Aziraphale, they hadn't really stopped their conversation. Except when they both were at work. Due to the club, Crowley had irregular hours but Aziraphale was apparently an insomniac as he answered almost any time of the night. What exactly were they talking about? Crowley couldn't even tell. The conversation had been about everything: Aziraphale's bookshop, the ducks in St. James Park, whether dolphins were mammals. If you can think about a completely mundane and normal subject, they probably talked about it together.

Their conversation had been going on for a week and a half. Several times Crowley had been tempted to say 'fuck, I like you, tonight at my place?' but he had given up. Firstly because 'tonight at my place' implied something sexual when, in fact, he had the idea of cooking something for Aziraphale. And, because, they had seen each other twice in their lives, it was perhaps too quick to say that he liked the bookseller. However, he did.

Aziraphale, too, was all about the redhead. It had taken him half an hour to select the bow tie he was going to wear, knowing that he had started thinking about it two days before the date. He had been delighted to see that the conversation had taken off with Crowley. Especially since the evening they had called each other (Anathema hadn't said anything against it after all, and besides, she wasn't God), and they had talked about so many things that it would be impossible for him to remember them all. But they had talked about Aziraphale's love for books and Crowley's love for his Bentley. Both had laughed at each other's (attempts at) humor. Clearly, they were flirting with each other and it was delicious.

After deciding to arrive ten minutes early, Aziraphale walked down the road to the meeting point with Crowley. They had decided to meet at a café and then go the rest of the way together. Maybe they could have met directly at the cooking workshop, but he had wanted to see him again in a neutral place, a sentiment, shared by both of them. He didn't even know how he was going to say hello. After all, he had kissed Crowley. Lightly, yes, but still.

Despite being ten minutes early, the other man was there already, and wow, Crowley looked like a rock star. He had his hair in a bun, which made his jaw stand out, and as he got closer, he clearly saw his tattoo too. However, he barely had time to study it before the redhead turned and smiled at him.

"Hello Aziraphale " Okay, Crowley, play it cool. You can do this. You've been thinking about this all night, relax. Once Aziraphale was next to him, he kissed him on the cheek, on the corner of his mouth. "Ready for that cooking class?”

"I hope so, my dear." The truth is, he probably wasn't, but he really wanted to spend some time with his date. "You'll just have to watch the cooking. I'm pretty sure I'm burning something today.”

"Don't worry, angel." He winked like he had rehearsed. Yes, he had. Smooth. "I'll be careful for the both of us.”

Once they arrived in the building, they were welcomed by the cook who was going to train them. From what they understood by looking at the pamphlet, the class was for single people, who could meet each other. Not for couples. For singles. They were coming in as singles. And they were supposed to be open to flirting. With other people.

Well, fuck.

"Hey," a woman approached Crowley: brown hair, green eyes. She had a warm smile on her face and reached out her hand. "I'm Stephanie. And, uh, this is the first time I've come to this class. "He was going to kill Anathema. " I don't have a partner. Do you want to be mine? » Wow, she was bad at flirting.

Crowley met the gaze of Aziraphale who seemed both shocked and amused by the situation. How could he find this funny? Shouldn't he be a little jealous? Ok, no, jealousy was definitely not a good feeling but still, a little more of a reaction would be appreciated. Especially since he didn't seem to want to intervene to help him say that they had come together, and not as a couple of friends but as a date. This woman didn't know that 'people are gay, Steven' or what?

Putting his arm around Aziraphale's shoulders to get the message across to everyone, Crowley replied, "I'm sorry, but I came with someone for this class.”

Stephanie passed her gaze from one to the other as if she was trying to understand why he had put his arm around the blond man. Suddenly, her face seemed to light up.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She looked deeply uncomfortable, which made Crowley smile. Aziraphale, on the other hand, preferred to reassure her.

"There's no harm done, dear. Don't worry about it." After he smiled at her like warm rays of sunshine on the ice in Crowley's heart, Stephanie left to talk to other members of the group.

"Very subtle, Crowley."Aziraphale noted, pointing at the redhead's arm around his shoulders.

"Sorry. I just wanted to..." He removed his arm, but his hand was quickly intercepted. Aziraphale interlaced their fingers.

"No, I liked it." And, once again, the blonde looked at him with a smile warmer than it should be legal.

Indeed, Aziraphale had enjoyed the scene that had unfolded before his eyes. Seeing the person with whom he was on a date literally being hit on in front of him had not been the best experience he had had in his dating history. However, he wasn't naturally jealous, especially with someone he wasn't really with and had decided to study Crowley's reaction instead. He hadn't been disappointed, especially since the person was charming and, technically, Crowley didn't owe him anything.

Having the redhead's arm around his shoulders, however, had been ... Uncomfortable? Not in the sense that he didn't want it to happen, but rather in the sense that, as in their first meeting (technically second but they had barely spoken in the first one), he had felt like a teenager with a full-on crush. Crowley's way of showing that they were together ... He wondered if Crowley's actual character fit the image he projected.

After several days of flirting through messages and talking, he was beginning to see Crowley's personality take shape. If the outside looked like a bad boy partying every day and making one conquest after another, their exchanges led him to think that it was all a constructed image. The simple gesture of putting his arm around him, though it may not have meant much, tended to support this hypothesis. This was still the case when he took the other man's hand and Crowley directed his wry smile at him that had nothing ironic about it.

The chef, Thomas, called them to the table after they had all washed their hands and put on an apron. The kitchen had a central table which was for the preparations. Separate, on another table, there were several hobs with a hotplate. There were about ten participants, and apart from Aziraphale and Crowley, it seemed that nobody knew each other.

"Hello everyone and welcome to this cooking class. Today we are looking at Indian cuisine." This couldn't be a coincidence If Anathema had wanted to send Crowley a message, she definitely couldn’t have made it clearer." And we're going to learn how to make: a dhal of coral lentils, spiced rice and grated carrot pancakes. Feel free to talk with each other, after all, we know why you're here." Thomas winked and the audience laughed politely.

"The first thing we're going to do is cut the vegetables so that we have them all ready. I'm going to show you how to chop an onion and cut the garlic. I don't think I need to show anyone how to peel a carrot!”

Aziraphale turned to Crowley as Thomas began to demonstrate the correct way to cut an onion and looked up to the sky. He'd much rather eat than cook. Of course, he had minimal cooking skills, but everything was always below what he hoped for when he did things himself. He had learned very quickly that a good part of his income would be spent on food prepared by other people. After finishing with the onion, Thomas showed the simplest way to take out  a clove of garlic. This could be practical in life.

Everyone got an onion and started cutting with knives that were much sharper than anything Airaphale had ever seen in his life. He began to cut, but soon his eyes were drawn to Crowley's expert moves.

"You do this very quickly! Where did you learn how to do that?” It was kind of sexy or rather … definitely sexy.

"Mmm? Oh, I used to help out in Eden's kitchen once. Chopping an onion is kind of the basics, so I mastered it.”

Of course, after looking cool for half a minute, Crowley had to raise his head to look up at Aziraphale while continuing to cut. Rookie mistake.

He didn't realize he'd cut himself before Aziraphale exclaimed.

"Crowley! Your finger!”

"What?" He lowered his head and saw that, fortunately, he had only superficially nicked his fingertip. "Shit!" He went to the sink to rinse himself while Aziraphale dashed over to Thomas who was with a member of the group explaining again how to shop an onion.

" There are bandages in the toilet." Thomas said. Aziraphale went to get some and a disinfectant. He joined Crowley at the sink.

"Give me your hand. I wouldn't want you to bleed on the food." Crowley smiled at him. Was he bedazzled? It was hard to see his expressions through his glasses. He hadn't yet asked why he wore them because he suspected it had something to do with the light, but he realized he would like to see his eyes.

"It's not bleeding anymore, it's okay." Aziraphale nodded.

"You never know, it could start bleeding again." He reached out his hand, palm up, so Crowley could put his own on it. He wiped the water off, put on disinfectant and a band-aid. Then he raised the redhead's hand at eye level to look at his work before kissing the band-aid. "Here, all better!" Was it a blush he saw on Crowley's cheeks?

What the fuck? How can he be so smooth? He looks like an angel but does that kind of thing without even thinking about it. How does he do it? Ah!

Luckily, Aziraphale escorted him to their seats before he had time to think more. People around them asked Crowley if he was okay. He answered quickly but had no desire to mingle with the others. He had already had to put up with Stephanie for a minute and didn't want to give the impression that he was open for conversation or, that Aziraphale was available.

The class continued and Thomas explained the spices, the importance of using the right (and more expensive) ones, how to dose them for both the rice and the dhal. Although coconut milk would often be used in Indian restaurants, this was apparently not the original recipe. Anathema would be disappointed.

After putting the two pots of rice and lentils on the stove for everyone, Thomas showed how to make carrot pancakes quickly in the pan and everyone went back to their work plan.

"Is it just me or is it absolutely impossible to talk during this class?" Crowley asked the question because, since they had arrived, other than cooking, he felt they hadn't shared anything.

"You're not the only one who feels that way! "Aziraphale replied and then whispered. "How are these young people supposed to connect if all they can do is focus on the class?”

"No idea." He finished making his first carotte pancake (he didn’t know why Thomas had said it was pancakes when the correct terms was ‘naan’) and put it on the fire. "But I don't think that's the best way to do it. Anyway, the class is pretty interesting, although I'm not sure the dhal will be as good as at the Indian restaurant I'm going to.”

"Oh, where is it?" Aziraphale had probably visited most of the restaurants in London by now, all types.

"Mayfair, near my flat. Anathema and I always order the dhal and it’s always just right. I feel like she was trying to send me a message by putting us on this class."Aziraphale laughed slightly. Wow.

"It's very likely.”

“And apparently what she wants is for me to cook for her. I'm gonna have to invite her and her husband over if I want to stay friends." Maybe he could also invite the blond … The pancake was still on the stove and hadn't been flipped.

"That's a really good idea, I should probably do the same thing for Tracy." They looked at each other while they talked, ignoring the rest of the world.

"Tracy?" He'd heard that name before, or rather read it when Aziraphale told him he wouldn't be available.

"She is my dear friend. We often see each other and talk a lot about literature. She's the one who convinced me to send an application to Miss Device's agency." Weird, there was a slight smell of burning.

"I should thank her, then." Crowley did that smile that looked like his trademark. He had an eyebrow raised above his glasses, and it wasn't a question.

"Guys," Stephanie interrupted them. Crowley turned to her with a dark look on his face when, of course, she couldn't see it. "The pancake's burning.”

"Oh no! "Aziraphale took the spatula and retrieved the pancake that had completely blackened. Luckily, they had made some more. Crowley couldn't help but laugh.

"You weren't joking when you said you had a tendency to burn everything!" He retrieved the spatula from Aziraphale's hand and threw the pancake away.

"I'd warned that we'd have to watch... " Aziraphale was disappointed in himself. He didn't like letting something burn. You're not going to impress him by being a klutz.

Seeing a negative emotion on the blond man's face, Crowley leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"I promise, I'm watching out for you." Aziraphale smiled in response, and if that wasn't the best thing in his world right now, Crowley didn't know what was.

For the rest of the pancakes, Crowley was much more attentive even though he didn't stop his conversation with Aziraphale. So, could he invite him when he made dinner with Anathema and Newton. Maybe it was too early? Probably too early...

Fortunately, the class was beginning to draw to a close. Of course, everything had to be cleaned up, and Crowley was very efficient. After all, he tended to like everything in his apartment to be neat and tidy, so he was an expert in this area. Then came the best part, the tasting.

Both agreed that everything was very good, but still, the coconut milk usually added a certain richness, a texture that wasn't present in this dish. However, the spices were really good and Aziraphale asked Thomas where he could find them. When Thomas replied, the blond went to get a small notebook from the inside pocket of his coat and wrote down the reference.

Couldn't he do it on his phone like everyone else? Crowley looked up at the sky. He had to admit, he found the notebook thing charming.

They had just eaten something but so little that Aziraphale was still hungry when they went out around noon. He was thinking of inviting Crowley somewhere for lunch, but was that allowed? From what he understood of Anathema's plan, she was planning the meetings. He hadn't thought to ask if they could plan them alone too? She wasn't going to plan everything for six months, was she? Crowley got him out of his head, though.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. That was an appetizer, wasn't it?”

"Yes, I completely agree with you. It was delicious, but too unsubstantial.”

"If you want..." Crowley hesitated. Could they see each other outside of what Anathema had planned? Oh, fuck it. "The Indian restaurant I'm going to isn't too far and..." Aziraphale didn't give him time to finish.

"It sounds delightful."

Chapter Text

In her office, Anathema was checking her new e-mails. Going through a phenomenal amount of profiles, she stopped on one that pinched her as usual. After putting it aside, she looked at her clock. Anthony (yes, still in her mind, she called him that) must have finished his date with Aziraphale.

Very proud of herself, she smiled as she thought about the activity, she had chosen for them. Indeed, not only had she taken the opportunity of selecting the course to send a clear message to Crowley, (the message being that he had to learn how to make his favorite food himself in order to stop putting so much money into one restaurant because at this stage she was thinking of acquiring it to save money), but most of all, she had sent him to what she hoped would be a test for him and Aziraphale (might as well call him by his first name now, right?): a culinary course for SINGLE people. Not a course for a couple. Or even just normal one. A course for singles.

Wasn't she perfectly evil?

If she had to sum up her method and her love plan, she selected her clients' activities according to what she thought was best for them. It wasn't so much her powers (a little) but rather a great understanding of her clients. Her great empathy allowed her to understand very quickly what would be best for the people she met.

And, she knew Crowley, probably better than anyone else in her life except her husband. They had struggled through college together. They both had degrees they'd never used in their adult lives. After sharing a flat together and working odd jobs, their luck had changed for both of them. Crowley had been more than appreciated in the bar where he worked as a waiter and with his management degree (yes, he had a management degree when he surely would have been better suited for biology or physics ...), he had gently taken Eden's hand as the former boss wished. As for Anathema, she had begun to use her powers which had led her to, first, make card reading sessions and then to devote herself to love. Then, there had been Lucy for Crowley. Newton for Anathema.

In short, she knew how to play him like a fiddle, and what better way to do that than to put a future couple in a room full of singles where either of them would surely be approached? Maybe some jealousy, some possessiveness. She liked a little bit of drama. But her idea was a brilliant one, wasn't it? Anyway, she was very proud of it. She and her husband laughed a lot at the thought of hearing what would happen.

And, now that he knew how to, Crowley would have to invite her over and make her favorite food.

One stone, two birds.

How clever.

Dialing Crowley's number, she began to smile. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

"Hey, it's Anthony Crowley. You know what to do. Do it with style."

Did he hang up when he saw her number? No, probably not... she called him back. He picked it up at the first ring.

"Hey, witch. I'm not talking to you anymore. And you know why.”

If he took it that way... It could be an interesting conversation.

"Oh, Crowley, frankly, it couldn't have been that bad. After all, now you can make us the best lentil dhal we've ever had.”

"If this were... Anathema, I can't talk to you right now. I'm at the restaurant." Then he added. "You have Aziraphale's greetings. I'll call you back.”

Crowley hung up to finish the call and resume his conversation with Aziraphale.

"Sorry about that. Anathema wanted to know how it went.”

Aziraphale was sitting in front of him and was quietly enjoying his dish. Since they had arrived, Crowley had to admit that he had had to look away several times and concentrate on his own food. He hadn't paid any attention to it because they were side by side during the cooking class, but the way Aziraphale ate ... It was a sin. He couldn't think about anything else, see anything else. Crowley had never seen the act of eating as erotic, even using whipped cream for purposes other than to garnish an ice-cream did not thrill him any more than that. He was reconsidering his position. The blond seemed to savor every bite as if it were his last. His lips, objectively perfect and not just in Crowley's head, encompassed the fork and its contents before coming out of it almost in slow motion.

He didn't dare to imagine what it would look like with a spoon.

And ice cream.

He was never going to survive that lunch.

"You hang up on her quite violently, dear."

He would certainly not recover from this use of "dear" either. This is so cute!

"Yeah, but, you know... She deserved it!" After all, she had sent them to a class that, clearly, wasn't for them.

"Why? It was an excellent bonding experience, don't you think? Everyone seemed nice."

Crowley didn't like the fact that someone came on to him when he was clearly only there for the blonde's eyes. He looked him straight in the eyes and said intensely, having taken off his glasses.

"Maybe. I was focused on something else entirely. You were the most beautiful person in the room." Yeah, I'm so good at flirting right now. Is that a blush on his cheeks?

Aziraphale felt himself blush and he hoped it didn’t show too much. He already liked this flirting a lot. It made him feel special because, outside, in the real world, he was sure he couldn’t have talked to Crowley. First, he didn’t go to the same places. Second, he wasn’t really this bold. But, with the redhead, it almost was natural, to flirt, to converse. At least, more natural than his previous dates and lovers. Why was that? He didn’t need to know but he enjoyed it.

They finished their plates and decided to have some dessert. Well, only Aziraphale. Crowley changed his mind when he heard the blond asking for a sorbet. He was not ready for this, not at all. Oh Satan, it was their second date and he was about to have, if not a hard on, some really good mental images for wanking sessions. : Was he too crass to think about it? Well, honest to God, he already did some sessions with the cherubic face in mind. And not only his face. Was he in a midlife crisis? Behaving like a teenager who just discovered the pleasure of his own hand?

When the sorbet arrived, they were discussing the bookshop. Aziraphale had a pretty funny story about a costumer who had acted like he knew everything about literature to show off to his girlfriend. He hadn’t noted this and so, he humiliated the poor man without any attention to do so. He thought it was a good one, but Crowley didn’t react. He raised his head for the first time since he started to eat his sorbet and saw Crowley flushed.

“Are you alright, Crowley?” He was genuinely worried. The man looked a little bit like he had a fever.

Why did I remove my sunglasses again?

 “Everything is fine, Aziraphale. Are you enjoying your dessert?” Of course, he enjoys it, you moron. Why are you asking this? Are you stupid or what? His brain tried to say but he was too preoccupied by what he witnessed.

The blond was startled by the question and the look in Crowley’s eyes. He searched for an answer and smiled when he found it. It wasn’t the first time someone (well, a date) made a comment on how he ate. It was a disturbing skill he discovered around twenty and one he couldn’t do anything about.

“Oh, yes, I enjoy it very much. This is very sweet of you to ask.”

Crowley flinched a little at the word sweet. He thought of all the things sweet about Aziraphale. He seemed to be a sweet person, with sweet hair, sweet lips, a sweet and plush body. A body you can do a lot of sweet (and not so sweet) things to. The bookseller chuckled and Crowley was back in the real world, blushing a lot because he saw that Aziraphale knew.

“And how is your coffee?” asked the sweet one.

“Dull and boring. Every coffee in a restaurant is burnt. I don’t know how they do it. It’s not so hard to do a decent coffee. I know I have the same coffee machine at work, or a similar one.”

Great strategy, changing the subject and focus with a monologue about coffee. Such a genius you are Crowley!

As a gentleman, Aziraphale let him change the subject. He knew now he had a trick up his sleeve. And it wasn’t the coin one. Oh, maybe Crowley would be amused by his magical talents. Or not. Later.

“Do you want to take a stroll with me to the park? The weather isn’t perfect, but it’s supposed to hold?” Crowley really wanted to end this torture and have some fresh air.

“With pleasure, dear boy.” Why was he crushing on a victorian bookseller? No idea. And, frankly, he didn’t need to know. If Anathema was right, she deserved all the thanks from him. But he wasn’t about to confess that to her.

They walked to Saint James Park talking about nothing and everything. Crowley told him about some mischief he had done with Anathema, when they were young and fun, and she was not married. Aziraphale talked about his trip to France and how he was arrested due to a ‘malentendu’ (as the French say for ‘misunderstanding’) by French policemen when he just wanted to get crêpes.

“Did they handcuff you?” Crowley was laughing. He had a clear image of Aziraphale in a donjon. Not that the French police stations had donjons, but it had a layer of drama to the story.

“No, they didn’t. But they were not gentlemen. I can assure you.” He said in a very hurt tone. Of course, they were not, Crowley thought and started to laugh again.

The weather didn’t hold, and it started to rain lightly. Aziraphale spotted a bandstand and took Crowley’s arm, like he had wanted to do since they left the Indian restaurant and guided him to it. They collided when he stopped a little bit brutally.

They were chest to chest and Crowley looked in the blue eyes. It was almost like a revelation. A voice in his head seemed to speak to him but, he didn’t know what it said. The vision that was Aziraphale was all he needed. If Anathema were here, she would have been able to see what was happening. She wasn’t and so the scene was only two men, looking at each other, like they were seeing the sunrise for the first time in their life.

No word was exchanged. No sound was heard except for the rain. They started to kiss and the world around them didn’t matter anymore.

Chapter Text

Crowley wasn’t surprised to be in Soho. Aziraphale having a bookshop in Soho, it made sense. What surprised him was the feeling he had since the time they kissed under the bandstand. They had had a few casual dates since then: movie theater (Crowley’s choice), a classical concert (Aziraphale’s choice), a few strolls in London but with the bad weather they always finished in a little coffee-shop that sold cakes and tea (for Aziraphale) and black coffee (for Crowley).

Both of them had talked to Anathema during these weeks. Aziraphale wanted to be sure they could date without following Anathema’s plan, but, as it turned out, it was actually included in it. Crowley had sighed a little and made dhal for her. He admitted this only to himself: that he thought more and more that, maybe, she was right. He wouldn’t have met the blond angel without her stupid website. Moreover, it has to be said that he was falling in love really quickly for a guy who didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Aziraphale checked all of his boxes and some he didn’t think he had : fluffy blond hair, deep blue eyes, pompous language, tartan bow-tie, a weird sense of humor, a fascination for crêpes, easy conversations, a wardrobe made up of light colors,  really sweet lips, and other things he couldn’t think about right now cause all he could do what thinking about the lips.

These lips were part of his daily fantasies and solo sessions. They had decided to wait with sex like Anathema recommended and Crowley was sure this rule existed to make them frustrated. Fortunately, he had a really good imagination and a really skilled hand (and sex-toys, if the situation called for it (and it called for it)). The amount of time he spent, fantasizing at work instead of workings on the stocks, payroll or accounts was too indecent, even for him. Every date, they had become more and more handsy, the kisses had become hotter, their hands had explored through clothes almost everything. Sometimes, they had been outside.

Crowley, now standing, in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop, knew that they shouldn’t go into Aziraphale’s apartment or back room. If they were together, with a comfortable plane surface, they might not control themselves.

The bookshop appeared to be closed but Aziraphale had sent him a text to just come in. They both were free of work on Mondays, so they decided to pass the time together, discovering for today Aziraphale world. Anathema had called them to explain ‘Part III’ of her plan: they had to spend time together and show the other their daily life. More anxious than he should be and after taking a deep breath, Crowley walked in.

The blond had sent him some photos of the bookshop when he had asked, so he had a pretty clear picture of it, but the reality was so much more amazing. It was a perfect décor for a movie about a bookseller, lonely, surrounded by so many words and who fell in love by luck. Or something like that. The bookshelves were cluttered and the light from the December sun wasn’t really enough to illuminate every corner, but it worked. Also, the smell. The bookshop had the same scent as Aziraphale. Or, had Aziraphale adopted the bookshop’s smell? They were slightly different because Aziraphale smelled more like his cologne and the bookshop more of old books, but you could sense that one belonged to the other.

“Aziraphale?” He had heard a bell when he had come in, but Crowley wasn’t certain Aziraphale had heard it as well and he didn’t want to spook him (Crowley might like spooky things, but Aziraphale may not). A vision of blond and cream appeared, and Crowley couldn’t do anything but smile.

“Good morning, my dear.” Aziraphale kissed him like he had done every time they had seen each other since the bandstand. After the kiss, they smiled to each other, or grinned in each other's presence. “So, this is the first stop to my world.” He made a gesture to show the bookshop.

“The photos don’t do it justice, angel. It’s wonderful. All the bookworms of London must come here, right?”

“Yes, they do. I would be happier if they would stop, though.” Aziraphale said it with a pout on his face that Crowley had to kiss.

The reluctance Aziraphale had to part with his books had made Crowley laugh too much the first time he heard it. ‘The paradigm of Aziraphale,’ he had said, ‘a bookseller with a bookshop who doesn’t want to sell books.’ The blond seemed to think about the bookshop as his private collection. Crowley remembered his family was rich. Maybe they hadn’t disowned him, and he was too. He erased this thought as soon as he had it.

“It’s a really big collection. You could share it.” Teasing Aziraphale was so fun.

“Oh, you, stop!” But he was smiling, and his protestations didn’t seem real.  “Do you want to see the rest, or should we go out on our tour?”

“It depends. Is there a sofa in your backroom?”

“Of course, dear.”

“Are we still waiting?”

Aziraphale didn’t say anything for ten seconds. “Yes, I think we are.”

“So, we should go. Keeping my hands to myself would be too hard.” Crowley winked and saw a light shade of rose appear on the blond’s cheeks.

“Let me just grab an umbrella in my apartment. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

When he came back, Crowley was in a pose he hoped to be seductive and cool. It wasn’t but Aziraphale found it endearing.

They started Aziraphale’s usual London tour with his favorite little restaurant where, of course, the owner and him were on first name basis. They talked in what seemed to be German before they were shown to their table.

“Was that German?” Crowley was curious and he wanted to know everything about his boyfriend. Not boyfriend. Friend? No. Lover? Not yet ... Crowley gave up.

“Norwegian. Fredrik opened this restaurant … Five years ago, I think. I started learning it from him.” The waiter came by their table to give them the menu and they ordered some aperitif.

“How many languages do you speak?” Crowley had this intuition it was more than two.

“Some, with different levels of success, but I tried French over and over again and I just can’t master this one. There grammar is just criminal.”

“So, you are good with your tongue ri …”

Obviously, the waiter came back with their drinks just when he was saying something like this. Great, this was just sooooo great.

“I am, dear.”

The proud expression on his face was too much for Crowley who decided that his drink was much more interesting. He tried to compose himself.

“So, what’s planned for this afternoon?”

“Browsing. I want to show you my favorite bookshop and a French boulangerie. I don’t have a lot of places I really love, besides them and the parks.” He fidgeted a little on his chair. “If you don’t want to, we could do something else.”

Crowley smiled. “It’s great, angel.”

When they had finished their lunch, they decided to walk. Everything was close to the bookshop. Crowley was happy to be include in Aziraphale’s everyday life. Maybe Anathema used this part of her plan for the two possible partners to feel closer. There was something very intimate in exploring the places someone liked to see.

“So, did you have a posh education? With all the languages you seem to speak?” They were walking together, Aziraphale’s arm around Crowley’s elbow.

“Like I said when we had our first date, my family is very traditionalist. So, yes, I had, as you say, a very posh education. I didn’t like it. My family wanted me to be a lawyer, or a doctor, with a wife and kids by my 30^th birthday. I loved them but I liked literature, languages, and of course, boys. My sisters and brothers listened to them and molded themselves to be what my parents wanted them to be. I know one of my sisters was, is, bisexual and I think she repressed her feelings. So, I was alone and when I had to make a choice, I did.”

Aziraphale didn’t look at him but Crowley heard the hurt, the resignation. He stopped them in the middle of the street and cupped the blond's cheeks before kissing him. When they separated, both of them were smiling and they started walking again.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad childhood.”  He really was.

“Not so much my childhood, more my teenager years. Thank you but you don’t have to be sorry. I don’t miss them, they couldn’t be happy for me. Oh, we are here!”

Aziraphale’s favorite bookshop was apparently more modern than the one he owned, with light colors for the shelves and more room to browse.Another difference was, that it was a real bookshop, not a very large collection. Crowley was happy to follow his angel (not his) and listen about his favorite things about the place when a man appeared next to Aziraphale.

“Hello, Aziraphale.” The man was good looking, a little bit older than Aziraphale. He turned around and smiled seeing the man.

“Oh, Oscar. It’s so nice to meet you here. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. What are you doing here?” Like it wasn’t obvious we are together, on a date, you moron, Crowley thought.

“I’m here with my date. We were just browsing but where are my manners? Anthony, this is Oscar, my ex-boyfriend.” They had already had the talk about exes and mistakes and past loves.

“Ex-fiancé.” Oscar added like it was so important. They shook hands.

“Yes, I know. Please call me Crowley.” No one called him Anthony, except Aziraphale. When Anathema would discover this …

The atmosphere was very thick around them.  

“And how is James? Last time I saw the two of you, you promised me a wedding invitation.” Aziraphale said while smiling, trying to ignore the dark look Oscar was unconsciously giving to Crowley. He didn’t like to be rude but maybe, if Oscar didn’t leave …

“It’s complicated. Listen, I have to go but I would like to see you again. Can I call you and take you out for lunch during the week?” Oscar answerd.

Second broken engagement, close to a record. Crowley smirked a little.

“I already have some plans for the week with Anthony but call me and we will see when we can meet. I don’t want to hold you. Have a nice day, Oscar.” The man gave him a peck on the cheeks and finally left. Aziraphale appeared to have frozen so Crowley, while a little bit jealous, decided to joke when the guy couldn’t hear them anymore.

“So, your ex wants you back.” Aziraphale was already eyeing something in a bookshelf. He was internally furious and didn’t want to spoil the date more.

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous, Anthony!” The first time he called him Anthony was after a rather hot snogging session at the cinema. He had whispered ‘I want you, Anthony’. Crowley never had been this hard in his life. So, he couldn’t protest the use of his first name.

“You know I’m right and I can’t wait for you to tell me about this lunch.” Well, and also to be sure they didn’t start dating again.

“If this is Oscar’s objective, I hope he will restrain himself because I just made quite clear I already have a boyfriend.” Oh, it’s that easy? Of course it is, Anathema said he is your soulmate.

“He must want to talk about James and their broken engagement.” And if it was more, well, Aziraphale had some remarks for him …

“He really wanted me to know you two were engaged. If this isn’t a sign...”

“I never had the impression that we were engaged. We just had been talking about marrying some day and when we broke up and he said he was sorry he was breaking up our engagement, I just didn’t want to make thing worse. We still loved each other but it wasn’t romantic love anymore.” A quick kiss on the lips from the blond was all Crowley needed to know that he wanted to talk about something else.

They just passed the afternoon like this, together, talking and browsing. Another bookshop and some ducks watching later, they stopped for tea and coffee. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated, just the two enjoying the moment and each other. If Anathema is right, why isn’t there more? Crowley thought while watching Aziraphale seeping his tea. Like fireworks, and, and, things. Explosions?

 After the day, Crowley walked Aziraphale back to his shop and when they kissed for the last time this Monday, with tongue and fever, he reminded himself that all the explosions he needed where in their kisses.

Three days later, they had another date. Aziraphale was fidgeting a little, thinking a bookseller like himself didn’t belong in Anthony’s world. But curiosity won the fight with his anxiety and he took a taxi to join the redhead at his bar. When he arrived, the man was a vision with his tight jean, his tie that wasn’t a tie, his jacket and the half bun in his hair. The serpent tattoo gave him something more, a mysterious and dramatic look. The smile on his lips when he spotted the blond was so perfect, he wanted to kiss him.

“Angel!” Anthony kissed him, such a sweet dear. “I’m so glad you are here.” The tension in his voice was palpable. They had discussed Aziraphale’s lunch with Oscar last night during one of their almost daily calls. Crowley had been worried, and he had assured him he wasn’t interested in Oscar anymore. Maybe they should have the talk, but he thought they were pretty clear with their intentions. For God sake, they were dating through an agency.

“Hello, dear.” A second kiss. That’s what they needed and so, they had one. “I can’t wait to see everything you have to show me.”

Anthony’s smile could compete with the sun. “Then, come on in!”

The bar was cozier than Aziraphale had pictured. It was a combination between modern and retro with a few sofas, some tables with chairs. They walked to one of the sofas, and when Aziraphale sat down, Anthony left to get them some drinks. He returned with two white wine glasses.

“The place is beautiful, Anthony. Did you design it?”

“I had professional help but yeah. The former owner and my boss listened to me when he wanted to renovate it. So, I helped a lot.”

“Thank you for the drink. The wine is excellent.”

“Your welcome, angel.”

Anthony looked like he belonged in Eden. No doubt, he was the owner here. Aziraphale saw some waiters eye them and smiled.

“Did you say anything to your staff  about me coming here tonight?”

Crowley turned his head to see were Aziraphale was looking. Unsurprisingly, he received some winks from his staff.

“I may have said something about them leaving us alone...” And everyone had made a comment about the new boyfriend of the boss. Also, a bet was in place. Well, a few. He didn’t need to know more but he was sure it was about whether or not they would shag in his office. And what is new … something looked like. He decided to ignore it. “So, how was lunch?” Aziraphale gave him a look. “Should I say, ‘I told you so’ now or later?”

Ignoring the comment, Aziraphale said, “You were right, he did want us to try again.”

“I told you so.” Crowley seemed more relax than yesterday about it. Aziraphale was here so, the answer he had given to Oscar was obvious.

“I will ignore that. Of course, I made it very clear that I wasn’t interested but he said some nasty things and I left.” He slipped his arm around Anthony’s waist, sitting side by side had its advantages.

“You should have called me, angel! What things? Prick!”

“Don’t be angry on my behalf, dear. I knew you were working, and we had something planned. I think he is just sad. James left him more than he left James.”

He punctuated his declaration with a peck on Crowley’s cheek. The redhead gave him a really sweet kiss on the lips, without tongue but it was very sensual.

“Ok, enough about your ex. How was your day?”

Aziraphale started to explain how he had to purchase a new book for a client, and he didn’t really know if he could find it because all the copies were burnt in a fire last century.

“I would be so happy to find it!”

“I can’t help you with this, angel, but I hope you will. Do you want to dance?”

The bar had a dancefloor with some people on it but Aziraphale had two left feet and he didn’t want to embarrass himself, or Crowley.

“I really don’t dance, dear. You could show me your office.”

Anthony got up and and took Aziraphale's hand in his own.”

“My office is nothing exciting, you know.”

As soon as they were in Crowley’s office, they started kissing. Aziraphale thoughts were too fast for him to identify them but they were something like this: God. Smell. Lips. Body. Warm. Beauty. Hot. Sexy. Dark. All he knew was that he wanted, to be closer, to be together. He lost himself in the sensations of kissing someone so perfect for him. And he didn’t want it to end …

Chapter Text

Crowley could no longer really feel his body. He was in this kind of trance where he felt everything that was going on around him but with this strange feeling of not quite being there anymore. The urge to devour Aziraphale was becoming much too strong and, frankly, he was going to have a word with Anathema about her shitty rule. However, he didn't really have time to think about her. He had no time to think about anything except the body under his hands hidden by a ton of clothes he wanted to get rid of.

Without realising it, he had pushed Aziraphale against his desk and the blond was trying to sit on it. Crowley wrapped his arms around his waist, letting his hands go down to his buttocks and lifted him slightly. Once Aziraphale was settled on the desk, Crowley slipped between his legs while continuing to kiss him and explore the blonde with his hands. God, yes, he is so hard too. We should stop, right? Maybe? But he kisses like a god ... or maybe an Angel …?

"Angel... Aziraphale... Maybe we should..." Aziraphale's body had moved forward when Crowley had disconnected their lips in an attempt to continue the kiss. The blond finally stopped himself and put two fingers on the other man's lips before placing a kiss on his nose.

"Yes, maybe we should." Crowley couldn't help but be disappointed and it must have shown on his face. "Or... We could continue what we were doing and see where it leads us?”

"Yes, we should do that!" The redhead was very eager to continue.

They started again, this time more gently. The kisses were softer and the caresses less frantic. In Crowley's mind, however, there was only one thought: how right this was, how good it made him feel. He was in no hurry to get back to where they were just a few minutes ago. That rhythm was reassuring.

If he had to be honest, the day before, he had hated knowing that Aziraphale was with a man who had views on him. Oscar … God he hated the man …

Crowley was not a jealous person, but it was hard not to be when neither he nor Aziraphale had put a name to what they were. When introducing him, the blond man had used the word 'date' but that was certainly not enough. After all, they were together because of a contract? Or maybe not. Crowley was confused. Awww,

Did he really need to have... this conversation? Apparently, he did. He had the impression that until things were clear, his mind would be spinning around the issue without really being able to rest.

He gently withdrew and stopped kissing Aziraphale.

"Could we talk?" he asked caressing the blond man's cheek with his hand. If he had thought the blond man would panic at hearing this, the look he received as an answer was the opposite, full of tenderness.

"Of course. Would you like to talk on the sofa? Your desk is not as comfortable when you aren't in the throes of passion." Aziraphale decided to take the hand of the redhead and they sat down, face to face and hand in hand on the sofa. "So, what do you want to talk about, my dear?"

He suspected the conversation they were about to have and couldn't have been more delighted.

"Well, um, angel ... Yesterday, I was pretty anxious about your lunch, you know?" Aziraphale nodded. He knew.__"And, well, I'm not, you know, jealous or anything! It's not, well, me. No, not that kind of guy. But, well, hum ... "

"Why were you anxious, darling?" Maybe being direct would work for Crowley.

"Because, I don't really know, um... What we are "Aziraphale was going to talk but Crowley was quicker than him. "I mean you introduce me as your date to your ex but, hey, is this it or are we, I don't know waiting, or ...” The blond gently squeezed his hand and Crowley stopped talking.

"If you want a label, and, rest assured, you are not the only one, we can use whatever label you want." He kissed him tenderly on the lips. "When I decided to try Anathema's services, it was because, well, I was very lonely," he paused for a bit, "I know we haven't seen each other for a long time but I really like you, Crowley. And, I know where this feeling is going. I am not so young anymore that we need to be careful around each other about this. So, we could be dating, for now, exclusively, boyfriends, I should think, and then, one day, lovers ... "

"Yes, angel, it's perfect.” Crowley had spoken as if what Aziraphale had just declared was what he had wanted to hear all his life.

Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself. He climbed on top of Crowley to kiss him. He just felt ... happy. That feeling of loneliness that had had him in its grips for some time was gone. He knew he now had someone to share his moments with and now he wanted to share something physical and tender. So, Aziraphale brought his hands to Crowley's face and while one hand was stroking his cheek, the other gently slipped into his hair.

The blond was somewhat obsessed with the hair under his fingers. Not only because of its colour but because it looked like the softest thing in the world and passing his fingers through it made him shiver while Crowley made one of the sweetest noises he had ever experienced.

Then, suddenly, someone knocked at the door.

Of course...

"Sorry boss, but you have a phone call at the bar and it's urgent!”

"I'm off tonight Darryl, can you handle it?” Crowley said loudly, clearly trying to sound normal and not out of breath.

"I'm sorry, but they specify they wanted to talk to you.”

Crowley let out a small groan that only Aziraphale could hear, as he threw his head back in frustration "Ok, I'll be there in a minute." He kissed Aziraphale. "Sorry, angel.”

Crowley put his head in the hollow of the other man's shoulder. Whoever was on the phone should practice some self-control so as not to get angry like this and disturb people who actually had important things to do...

Aziraphale gently caressed his neck. "You can take your call and I will wait for you outside. It's a beautiful night and we have time. What do you think about dinner?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. But we’ll have to move. I don’t wanna.”

He felt Crowley's lips pressed against his skull before Aziraphale released himself from their embrace.

“Come on, dear. Up you get!”

As Aziraphale was already on his way to the door, Crowley gently grabbed his arm and turned him around.

“About the … feelings you have, and the hope for them … I have them, too.” So, so, smooth, Crowley. Really such a teenager at your age it’s almost pathetic. But, hey, he is so damn cute and perfect, you have an excuse so, give yourself a break.

Aziraphale smiled at him and all of Crowley’s silly thoughts just left him. They walked out of the office. Crowley to the bar phone and saw his employees looking at him curiously. He answered them with a wink and picked up the phone.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale decided to go to the toilet first before leaving. He was going to push the door when someone came out.

“Oh, Aziraphale. I didn’t expect you to be in such a place.”

“Good evening, Oscar. » I really don’t need to see him or talk to him. “Yes, this is not my day to day venue.”

“I’m here with some friends if you want to join us. You know them: Mathilde, Eric and Pierre. They would be so glad to see you!”

If Aziraphale had met this people a lot when he was with Oscar, he wasn’t too thrilled about seeing them again. Mathilde was interesting but Eric and Pierre were quite dull. Aziraphale hadn’t tried to stay in touch and it suited him very well. Oscar’s friends were Oscar’s.

“I am sorry, Oscar, but I really can’t right now. And you made quite clear yesterday that you expect something different from this relationship.” Can’t you just let me go to the bathroom?

“Well, I still think you should reconsider. He is a little bit … Too much for you, no? Is this why you are here? Did he think it would be a good date for you to come here?”

How dare you!

 “Firstly, this is a perfect place for a date. I don’t know what you think of me but I’m not the monk I apparently am in your head. Secondly, Crowley, my boyfriend, owns this place. And, finally, I think we shouldn’t talk to each other for some time. Now, if you will please excuse me, I have some better things to do!”

Aziraphale passed him and locked himself in. He took a long breath and regained his calm. How long had Oscar been behaving like this? Jealousy could exacerbate the words, but all the same! After calming down, he joined Crowley outside.

"Oh angel, I was about to call you?" After paying attention to Aziraphale's gaze, he was alarmed. "Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes.” No, you made him worry! “I just had an encounter with Oscar on my way to the bathroom.”

 “He is in Eden?”

“Yes, and he was quite rude. I really did not care for it.”

Crowley hugged him and Aziraphale felt immediately better. This never happened before… That I immediately feel better after a hug.

 “The guy is desperate then. What did he say?”

“How I apparently am a boring old man and how, you and I, shouldn’t be together.”

Aziraphale really looked angry and Crowley didn’t like it. It was a beautiful night and it was about them, not some clingy ex!

“Well, definitely desperate then. How about a nice dinner to forget him? Italian? There is a place five minutes away from here, I think you’ll like it. They have a good chianti or a limoncello if you are in the mood.”

“It sounds lovely. Would you care for a nightcap at the bookshop after?” Aziraphale kissed his cheek and whispered “I would like to feel you hard against me again, knowing we won’t do anything about it. I like to see you desperate.”

“Aziraphale !”

“So,” the blond took his arm, “lead the way, my dear.”

Chapter Text

"Anathema, where are you, you witch ? "

Crowley had arrived for lunch with his best friend and her husband. And, he needed to vent his frustration. Two days earlier, he and Aziraphale had spent a lovely evening at the restaurant. Oscar was already a distant memory once they walked through the. Their dynamic had only been strengthened once this incident had passed. The subdued atmosphere of the restaurant had helped them to move on quickly. They had been flirting throughout the meal and Crowley was certain that Aziraphale had eaten his tiramisu in a way that must be illegal in several countries.

Apparently, Crowley had an oral fixation... Well, if I didn’t, I have now.

Well, this was not the strangest thing he had discovered about himself. But never mind.

"Hello Crowley," Newton replied. "My wife is getting ready right now. You got here earlier than I expected.”

“Well, I’ve been wanking myself raw for two days thanks to your wife and her plan so, you can deal with it.”

Anathema joined them at that time. Always right on time …

“Oh! Did you have a hot date?” She asked as if she didn’t know.

“Of course, I had a hot date! My date is hot, and our entire evening was hot. Did I tell you I discovered I have a thing for cute, angelic blonde men who eat their cakes like it’s the finest thing ever.”

“Not men, a man, singular, I think. And what? You couldn’t stop picturing your dick instead?”

“Hey!” Newton exclaimed, “Could you … Please… Not?”

“Darling, you know us, don’t pretend to be shocked! So, I made some lasagna, and Newton made a delicious creamy cake. Let’s have a drink and then you can complain about everything.”

So, they did and Crowley had a lot of things he wanted to complain to his best friend and her husband about.. Newton was a good guy after all.

The three sat around the table with their glass of white wine as usual. There were a few appetizers on the table, more for Newton than for Anathema and Crowley. Anathema loved chocolate but was insensitive to peanuts. Years of friendship gave this kind of knowledge, so he knew which chocolate to bring while taking that problem into account.

Once in a comfortable position, Anathema stared at him with her gaze that could easily be interpreted as a: So, are you going to speak?

“First, I must say: bollocks to your great blasted plan. Right now, I hate you so much.”

 “I know, but you also love me because, thanks to me, you discovered you have an oral obsession.”

“I’ve not … It’s not… Ok, yeah, kind of, you’re right.” Crowley stuttered.

“So, what happened?” Newton asked because he was invested in this too.

“Well, we had a date at Eden. And we make things clear like ‘do you want to be my boyfriend and blablabla’,” Crowley used a voice to convey that he didn’t care but Anathema and Newton saw right through him. “And then, we decided to have dinner instead of having sex on my desk, thanks to you Ana,” he knew how she despised to be call Ana “and your fucking stupid plan that will make my balls go blue, if you ask me.”

“You know I’m not here right? If you want to have sex, you can.” Anathema smirked.

“I think my boyfriend is a bit of a bastard, and he enjoys the sexual tension.”

“And, you don’t?” The question came from Newton.

“Yes, I do. Of course, I do. He is so good at teasing me. I want to go down on my knees and…”

“Blow him?” Anathema interrupted like the rude witch she was.

“Oi!… Worship him.”

“You are totally into him. This is so cute. I am so happy for the both of you.” Newton and Anathema exchanged a look. That kind of look you can exchange with a long-time partner. Crowley was jealous of them.

“So,” Crowley interrupted them cause, you know, “what’s the next step?”

“Well, you progressed in the plan, so maybe a week-end away, I should think? The holidays are coming up if you want to enjoy the lights and atmosphere of Christmas.”

“Mmmm, I’ll think about it.”

Meanwhile, in a bookshop

“So, dearie,” Tracy had a wonderful pink and orange robe and her makeup was extravagant. She was pouring tea in the cups Aziraphale had taken out from a cupboard. They both had their respective cups. Every friend of Aziraphale had a dedicate one. He didn’t have a lot of them, because he was not a really friendly person. So, only Tracy really had a mug. And now, Crowley. He didn’t know it and Aziraphale wouldn’t tell him, but he had searched for the perfect cup in his cupboards for him. He had a collection, you see. So, he possessed more cups than he needed. And he like the one he had selected for his partner. Partner… “What did you do when you finished dining?”

Aziraphale had a light blush on his cheeks. Of course, he knew about Tracy's work, and really, after all these years, he should be more relaxed when speaking about sex but… He could flirt shamelessly like he did with Crowley, throw some dirty talks but with his friend, it was not the same thing, thank you very much. He wasn’t aroused by Tracy. He was aroused by ginger hair, tight black pants and a really good looking ar…

“Aziraphale?” And, just like this, he was pulled out of his fantasy. 

“Sorry, my dear,” He took her hand and kissed it to show some remorse. Tracy smiled. She loved his gentlemanly manners and he knew it. “Well, we took Crowley’s car and I may have yelled at him about his speed because,  frankly, I do not know how he didn’t crash either the car or into a pedestrian. And, we may have… Frolicked  …”

Maybe that word did not fully describe the events of his and Crowley's last encounter, but he would be caught dead before using other words in front of Tracy. Once he and the other man had crossed  the threshold of the bookshop, they had put their coats on a coat rack and as soon as they were in his little apartment above his bookshop, Aziraphale had thought about proposing a nightcap. But, once he had seen Crowley standing in his little living room, he had pushed him onto the sofa and snogged him with a force he didn’t know he possessed.

“Angel!” Crowley had said, well, screamed was a more accurate term, between kisses when Aziraphale had put his hand under his shirt to play with his nipples. If he hadn’t been already so hard, this sound would have done it.

They had kissed like this, like their salvation was in the other mouth, or on the other tongue. Aziraphale had been on top of Crowley who had been lying on the sofa. One of his hands had travelled over his chest, the other in his hair... Until Crowley had let out a bit of a frustrating growl because he couldn’t get access to Aziraphale's skin. The blond had helped to shed his waistcoat, the source of the problem. As soon as Crowley had had a hand on his plumb stomach, they had started rutting against each other.

“I really want to see you coming in your pants, my dear,” Aziraphale had murmured in Crowley’s ear before tugging the lobe with his teeth, “But, I want to make it very clear that we won’t reach orgasm together tonight.” Another tugging.

Crowley had kissed his neck with such passion and force, Aziraphale had almost come. “Don’t care. Keep kissing me... want to explore you... much as possible.”

If he is incoherent now, I can’t wait to see when we’ll be naked together, he had thought.

“Frolic?” asked Tracy. “I didn’t know you were such a sadist, Mr Fell.”

“It was very hard to stop.” Tracy raised a brow with a little smile. “But we managed.”

“You had a perfect gentleman, your new partner, under you, and you finished the night alone? You... Young things, I don’t understand you. In my time …”

“Yes, I know a lot about your time, my friend.” Aziraphale sipped a bit of his tea.

“So, what’s next? Besides dying of sexual frustration?”

“I don’t know yet. Crowley is seeing Anathema today. I have no doubt he will text me about it.”

“You text now? Really? For him, I suppose…” She sounded judgemental but she was actually teasing him and quite happy for her friend. She had a good feeling about this.

Aziraphale’s cellphone made a sound from his pocket.

“Well, speaking of the devil …”

“You call your boyfriend the devil?”

“If he had kissed you, you would understand, my dear.” Aziraphale winked and Tracy continued to drink her tea while he read the short text.

From Crowley : Hey Angel, you want to go away with me for a week-end ? XX

Chapter Text

To propose a trip so quickly when it was very often the last part of her plan showed that Anathema had full confidence in this couple. In some cases, the fourth part was reserved for meeting the couple's relatives. In other versions of her plan, she aimed to test the compatibility of the people by putting them in a stressful and complicated situation (such as a trip to IKEA). In each case, Part 4 was a consolidation phase. And, for Aziraphale and Crowley, she had no doubt that the consolidation would take place on a romantic holiday.

Taking time out on a weekend so close to Christmas was surely not a smart business move. But, Aziraphale had no desire to sell his books. Of course, he had stocks of everything that would sell well at this time of year, from Philip Pullman to Charles Dickens to all the big titles of the year. However, in all his years as a bookshop owner, he had learned that this time of year led people to be generous and, therefore, to give away collectible books. It was his rule not to part with his collectible books. The Christmas period in the bookshop was always a source of despair and to escape it was a real treat.

He had not believed that Aziraphale would actually take a weekend off for the two of them at this time. Crowley’s establishment was very well run, and he didn't need to come in and supervise for two days even at this time during a weekend. He was quite prepared to postpone their stay until after the holidays when he had sent his initial message to his boyfriend. The latter, however, was so enthusiastic about it that they met again the following day to make some plans.

 So, he had joined the blond at the bookshop on the first Tuesday of December at closing time. Arriving a little early, he had the opportunity to see Aziraphale with a customer. As the customer looked quite animated because he was talking, Aziraphale turned to Crowley to see who had come in, and, after giving him an angelic smile, he rolled his eyes in exasperation and pointed at the customer with a slight shake of his head. Not for the first time Crowley thought he was a little bit of a bastard as he often was and that's what made him so interesting.

Fifteen minutes or so of strolling through the aisles later, Crowley heard footsteps coming towards him after he thought he heard the sound of a key being turned in a lock. He decided to continue simply looking at the shelf without turning around to see what was going to happen. A few seconds later, warm arms encircled his waist. Then he felt lips resting on the hollow of his neck, barely there.

“Hello, my darling,” Aziraphale spoke directly against Crowley’s neck, “I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you when you came in. This customer tries to buy so many books every time he visits, I had to deal with him.”

Crowley smiled. He didn’t know it was possible to feel so much for one person so easily, but he couldn’t deny it. His hands joined Aziraphale’s, and he leaned back a bit to feel his body more closely.

“You are the weirdest shop owner I ever encountered, angel.”

“I am not weird, I am peculiar.”

“Mmmmh, peculiar seems just a fancy word to say weird to me, if you want my opinion.”

“Well, I admit I want your opinion on something, my dear.” The hands on Crowley’s belly started to move and caressed just at the junction of his shirt and jeans. He also pressed his lips against Crowley’s ears.

“Angel. Please … Don’t start.” His voice came as a whisper and breathless. The hands stopped at once.

Aziraphale was smiling, Crowley could sense it. “I won’t do something you don’t want to. I am sorry, dearest.” They were pressed against each other, in a silent bookshop. The night had already cast its shadows and the bookshop wasn’t really well lit. Breathing had become harder for both of them. “I bought the fancy coffee you told me about last week.”

“Why are you inviting me to a cup of coffee but aren’t moving, Aziraphale?”

“Asking stupid questions doesn’t become you, my dear.” 

Crowley turned in Aziraphale arms and crashed their lips together. God, he wanted the man so much, he had wanked twice a day just to take the edge off since their foreplay at the blond’s. He also wanted just to be here with him. Every time Aziraphale talked, Crowley found himself staring at him like the besotted fool he knew he was becoming. Falling in love wasn’t something he was accustomed to. It was not the first time, but he really thought he wouldn’t fine someone in the blond who could complete him like he was beginning to. If he was being honest with himself, he kissed the man because, when he did, he had this warm sensation in his chest, like a feeling of completion. 

If he had asked Anathema about it, she would have explained this sensation. The obvious reasons were positive feelings like contentment, love and arousal. But, on a metaphysic point, when you share something strong with a compatible soul, like the two of them were during this kiss, a wonderful phenomenon happens. If you had the eye, you could see the exchange of energies between their souls. They don’t become one, a soul is a soul, they don’t need another to be completed. They just exchange something. Poets use the ‘becoming one’ cliché nonsense because where the souls meet, they seem to fuse. They don’t.  This part is only a bridge. And this bridge brings something from one soul to another.

What exactly, you may ask? Well, it depends. According to Agnes Nutter’s book, the bridge is fluctuant. For some, the exchange is about feelings. For others, it’s about sensations. All souls can exchange. Sometimes, the sentiments are so profounds, so marking, people give a little part of their souls: a loving parent watching over their child, a friend being here to support you, a lover watching you sleep and thinking all about how you make their life better. Sometimes, it’s an exchange, like when you are falling in love. Sometimes, souls can take from the others and, well, it’s not the case in this story so, Anathema would stop.

But here Crowley was, with this wonderful sensation in his chest that Aziraphale was also feeling. It didn’t matter to them what it was exactly. They enjoyed it and it was why they gasped for air when they couldn’t breathe, and kiss at the same time anymore.

“Well, hello, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled and gave him a last peck on the cheek. “I believe we should go up and talk about this little trip of ours.”

Of course, everything went to hell, right after they made their plans. Crowley was need at Eden more than ever after a cockup with some commands. Aziraphale’s shop suffered from a pipe break. Fortunately, books were not harmed but bookshelves had to be remade. Only a week and Christmas would be here.

“So,” Anathema was chilling at Eden’s bar, “the trip didn’t happen. It’s not a very big deal, you know. I didn’t think you would take it so badly.”

“You know it’s not just that!” Crowley was the barman for the day. The flu was a disaster at this time of year. “I wanted to have some alone time with him.”

“Don’t worry, Juliette. Your shag will come.”

“You are such a bad friend. And please, behave, Aziraphale just arrived.”

“And you think I would spook prince charming? Remember who you have to thank for bringing you together?”

“Yeah, yeah. You are the best friend ever for presenting my future husband to me.”

“You know, you’re trying to be sarcastic but all I’m hearing is the truth.”

“Behave!” Crowley whispered, “Hey, Angel!”

“Good afternoon, my dear. Anathema, how are you? May I take a seat with you?”

“Of course, Aziraphale!” She was happy they were now on first name basis. She smiled sweetly at him, knowing Crowley was watching her carefully.” “How are you?”

“I am fine, thank you. The rebuilding is going well and I have the perfect excuse to not sell my books. But I am sorry we couldn’t go on the trip you wanted us to take.”

“Don’t worry about it, it happens! Anyway? …” She gave a small smirk to Crowley. “We could swap plans. What do you do for Christmas?”

“Well, I have a lunch planned on the 25^th with my dear friend Tracy and, I wanted to plan something with you too.” He said smiling to Crowley. “Why?”

“We do a little party on the 24^th, you should come!” Anathema said.

“Here, Angel.” Crowley had decided to give him a tea without waiting for his order. When Anathema wanted something, you couldn’t get away from her.

“Are you sure about it, Miss Device? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Anathema. And of course. I know Crowley would be thrilled if you were here.” Upon hearing this, a little shy smile appeared on Aziraphale’s face that made Crowley blush slightly. God, she was so good. “I’ll let you two discuss it. I have to go. Aziraphale, it was a pleasure, as always. Bye, Crowley.”

And with that, she was gone. It was so typical of her. Crowley laughed a bit. “So, meeting the family is the new plan apparently,” he said.

“Is this alright with you?”

“Of course, Angel. Drink your tea while I finish here. We should probably talk about all the horrible things my best friend will reveal about me and I want to kiss you properly.”

Aziraphale smiled and started drinking his tea. And, if he was checking out the barman’s ass, no one could see him with the way he held his cup.

Chapter Text

Christmas was always a sensitive time for humans with divine? … occult? … esoteric? … powers. Not because of Christmas but of Yule. All the gods and myths associated with this time of the year was not a coincidence. The darkest days of the year were also the one most significant for communion, exchange of souls, blessings, and more demonic interventions (if such things exist). Anathema, during these days, could see more clearly than the rest of the year. It was a problem because if she could see more beautiful things, she could also see darker ones. In consequence, she had a very good routine: sending Newt outside and stay inside seeing people with only positive auras, auras she knew. That’s why every year, her agency was closed from the 21^st to the 31^st. Younger, she had witnessed something she wished she had not. Since then, her closed ones knew about it (not everyone knew why, or they knew and didn’t really believe it) and it was a tradition that, if you wanted to see her at this period, you should come alone and with cinnamon biscuits, thank you very much.

So, it was a bit of a surprise for Crowley when Anathema invited Aziraphale. He knew she wouldn’t have paired him with someone he wasn’t suited for, but it was something if she invited him in her home so soon. He tried not to make a big deal of it, but, again, it really and totally was. He loved having Christmas Eve together, the tradition, the good feelings. He saw his family every Christmas day, but he was growing a bit tired of it. He didn’t have ill feelings against his family, not of the scope of Aziraphale’s but he didn’t feel really part of it. It was more a statue quo and he felt like he was only waiting for something to change. And this change, this new thing in his life, was Aziraphale. Maybe, next year, family Christmas will not be so dull if only he could…

Wow, wait a minute mister postman (did he just think this awful expression? No one has proof. It will stay between us)! Thinking this was a bit mettre la charue avant les boeufs as the French say! So, no future Christmas planning! Ok, the fact that the angel wanted to spend some precious time with them during the Holiday was a good sign. However, he could be mistaken. He had been in the past, right? In the past, you weren’t so hooked up on someone. Yes, he knew! So, you know you’ll be thinking about it a lot. It’s already too late. You are fated. No, we are not. Even Anathema said so. You don’t have ONE soulmate but… No but, it’s like the saying: you just must meet a right person, not the one, just a right one.

He was debating like this with himself on the way to Anathema’s. Fighting with his own mind about how it was a little bit too soon to plan this when he had not said to the guy (Crowley shuddered thinking about saying to Aziraphale he called him ‘the guy’) he l … liked him! He wore one of his best outfits with a long coat on it and a man bun for his hair. He was not his own type, but he hoped it would … inspire the angel even if they couldn’t do anything tonight ‘cause he had to drive to see his family and he was an adult and wouldn’t drive exhausted because having sex with a blonde angel with the most gorgeous shape and a cock he wanted to lick so mu… And, just like that, he was at Anathema’s.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale had put on his best ‘a bit more formal but not the best formal’ clothes he possessed. His not too light-blue shirt was pristine, without a wrinkle. His cream waistcoat and pants were familiar and emphasized his forms. His festive bow tie had a little bit of gold was in the beige and blue pattern to make a subtle difference. No one noticed this kind of details of course; however, it was important to him. He had talked about gifts and wine and everything for the evening with Crowley at lance, but he was still nervous. Maybe this kind of reunions was for real couples. Not that Crowley and he were not. Well, they didn’t have THE talk, but they didn’t need it, right? They were in this plan, together. Still, they weren’t a real couple. For God’s sake, he couldn’t say to this dear boy how he liked him, very much so, and how he had had so many wonderful (and filthy) dreams about him.

As he hailed a cab (they always miraculously appeared when he needed to go somewhere, such a blessing), he stopped this line of thoughts. They were not appropriate in this setting. He hoped he had not forgotten anything, especially the wine for the evening and the gifts. He had a bookshop, so it was expected of him to offer books and he had found good ones for the Device, Anathema and Newton.

Newton answered the doorbell and Anathema emerged from the kitchen after he took off his coat. He gave the bottles of wine to Newton and the beautiful bouquet he piqued up on his way there to Anathema. Crowley supervised what was cooking and couldn’t joint them in the living room right away. They had not seen each other for the last few days because of the little flood in this bookshop so he made his excuses to Anathema and Newton and joined Crowley in the kitchen. What a sight to behold… He didn’t have his sunglasses on and wore a wonderful white  shirt that sculpted his chest with a beautiful black waistcoat with subtle with pinstripes. His black jeans were so tight, Aziraphale still didn’t know how he will pull them off him, one day, soon. And the man bun. The man inspired lust, greed… Also, he wanted to just be in his arms for some time and forget about the not so serious accident but stressful situation.

“I did not know you were hosting tonight, my dear.” Aziraphale said while walking to embrace the man from behind as he was stirring something that smelt positively divine.

“I am not, but I helped make some things tonight and I brought dessert.” Aziraphale kissed him on the neck and on his temple. “Careful, angel. Everything is piping hot.” He turned slightly his head so he could have a real kiss. “Hello, you.”

“Hello to you too. I am most ungracious as I left Anathema and Newt alone, but I couldn’t wait to see you.” Crowley little was everything. “Everything smells divine here. May I help you with something?”

“No, Aziraphale,” Anathema said as she entered the kitchen, “everything is fi…”. She stopped. Not because she was shocked finding them like this (she had so much worse) but their auras. It was not something she could describe; she tried once as she had witnessed this happening to many people. However, never here, there, in her own kitchen, with her best friend, one of the loves of her life, displaying so much joy in his tiny smile and bright eyes looking at the other man like all the questions he had (at least about relationship, Crowley had so many questions ALL THE TIME) had been answered. She was witnessing the blooming of love, of romantic love particularly. Already not a fragile thing, their auras were exchanging it in the bridge. When Crowley saw her and they both pivoted to face her, Aziraphale’s arm still around his waist, their auras pulsed making the love a bit more tangible. Everything happened in only a few seconds, and she wanted to cry a bit from such a wonderful sight, but she finished her sentence. “Fine, sorry! We really know how to run this show. Well, Newt knows, and Crowley too. Me, I have more a supervising role, specifically wine testing. Yours need a bit of time but I have a wonderful white wine if you’re interested.”

“Yes, thank you very much, Anathema. I would be delighted.” He pecked Crowley’s cheek like they had done intimacy so many times and followed Anathema to the living room. “I want to thank you again for inviting me in your home tonight. I am very glad.”

“I hoped you didn’t feel obligated and didn’t have any plans with family or friends.”

“Oh, no. You are so very kind. My dear friend Tracy had received an invitation from her fellow and we just decided to do our Christmas tradition tomorrow.”

“If you had not come, I fear our night would have been Crowley talking about you all the time.”

“Anathema, you are just like this aunt dropping uncomfortable truths at Christmas.” Crowley said with one plate in each hand. “I bring to you some toasts. I need to bring other things from your kitchen. Angel, don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she is saying.”

“The prospect of you talking so much about me is not unappealing, my dear.”

“Yes, well, time to bring some things from the kitchen! Don’t gossip about me!” Crowley didn’t stay for longer and found so many things to bring on the table, he had to make multiple trips (Anathema was smirking way too much). He only brought back one item per trip, making Anathema and Aziraphale giggled.

“Newt!” Anathema said, “come and toast with us!”

“Of course, love.” He took the glass Anathema gave him with a non-alcoholic cocktail she was the only one making perfectly. “Thank you for being here, cheers!” He had a full smile on while clinging his glass with Anathema.

“Thanks to you, for having us.” Crowley said before sipping their wine. He lightly touched Aziraphale’s bow tie. “I like this bow tie, angel. I don’t think I ever saw it.”

Aziraphale’s smile was radiant. “No, I don’t think so. You are very sweet to say. It’s not too far from my usual.”

“The gold is subtle, but I can spot the difference pretty easily.”

“You are fashionable, of course, you can.” His cheeks were a little bit rose.

“I am not, really. I just have a basic outfit I pull off, and I built on it. Trust me, if someone saw you as often as I do, they would notice.”

Oscar didn’t, Aziraphale thought while Newton whispered to Anathema about how they already behaved as it was a normal evening and not the first Christmas Eve together or the first real presentation with Crowley’s best friends. How evident it looked. Anathema smirked a bit. Because it was.

The evening proceeded with much laughter and more serious conversations. Everyone was content to be there, and a lot of positive things were flowing around the room. Anathema could see it, felt it. They all felt it. Easy was the term. All night was easy. Gifts were given. Gifts were received. Anathema and Newton gave Aziraphale’s a copy of a prophecy book from Anathema great, great, great, etc, grandmother with some predictions had apparently been true. Three only but one was a chance, two a coincidence, three however… Among the hundreds written, admittedly, but still. Aziraphale gave Anathema a misprinted bible with a very hilarious word for a bible. They laughed far too long about it. He also gave a book for children with cowboys and pirates and space to Newton. It was the right choice apparently because he loved children’s literature. Crowley, Anathema and Newton gifts to each other were little things like wine and chocolates because the real gift was their annual trip. Crowley gave to Aziraphale a wonderful teacup from a vintage shop, and Aziraphale gave him beautiful new glasses from a designer in Camden. Perfect gifts on top of great food and wine (and non-alcoholic cocktail for Newton)!

When Anathema and Aziraphale were bringing back the dishes in the kitchen at the end of the night, Newton and Crowley decided to go outside to admire the not so starry night of London. That’s when Newton decided to push things along, he hoped. “You should tell Aziraphale you like him, you know. I never saw you like this.”

“I don’t think I have ever been.” He wished he still smocked so he would have something to fidget with. “I think it’s a bit soon but thank you. If you see it, it means it’s not only my head.”

“No, it’s not, and I like him. He has a great sense of humour and when you start debating with him about anything it’s great to watch!”

“Are you mocking me, Pulsifer?”

“Don’t start using this name, you know I don’t like it!”

“I know,” Crowley smirked, “and that’s why you became a Device!”

Anathema and Aziraphale joined them. “We should really go back to this little village, Tadfield. It had an amazing sky at night. We could really see everything.”

“The one near Oxford,” Newton asked, “It really was an amazing place. Do you remember how the weather was just like in your dream for this time of the year? We really should go back.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” Aziraphale said.

“You should go there if you plan a trip again, it’s an amazing little village.”

“Maybe we will.” Aziraphale started to tremble.

“Sorry, guys. We’re gonna go, I don’t want anybody to catch something. Thank you for the amazing night.”

“We can stay a little longer, dear. I just need my coat.”

“Don’t worry, angel. I have an early start tomorrow. We should go.”

They made their way back in the flat and took their coats. The goodbyes were warm. Anathema looked at their auras one last time and smiled. The ride back was sedated. Crowley had drunk more Anathema’s cocktails than wine and champagne, but he wanted to be careful. He had an angel with him. He parked (illegally) in front of the bookshop and Aziraphale, as soon as the motor didn’t run, kissed him as he had wanted all night: with a mix of passion and affection. They just stayed kissing each other in the car for some time.

“We should stop,” Aziraphale said “It’s already late and you have your family gathering.”

“Yes, you are right. Of course, angel.” Crowley started kissing him again but this time a little bit lighter. They talked between little kisses.

“If you have nothing planned for New Year’s Eve, would you like to do something together?”

“Yes. You, specifically.”

“It sounds perfect, my dear.” One final peck, they had to go to bed. “We’ll see each other before, I hope, but it is really a perfect plan.”

“It’s a date, angel.” Really, only one more kiss. “I should go. Thanks for coming. It was really great to have you with us.”

“I loved it, thank you, my dear. Have a safe trip tomorrow.” One last kiss with a bit of tongue. “Toodle-oo” And, like that, they had a new date coming! Maybe this one would be more special…