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“Hey,” Crowley began, a few bottles of wine into the evening. He was sitting on the bookshop’s sofa and staring lazily at the angel across the room. “Hey, angel.”
Aziraphale, who was still taking his time with his first glass, was seated at his desk, tending to some long-neglected paperwork. “Hmm?” He didn’t bother to look up.
“What–” a hiccup, “What do the humans say when they’re proposing?”
“Proposing what?” Aziraphale asked, rather absent from the conversation.
“Mmmarriage.”
Aziraphale frowned, finally looking up from his work to shoot Crowley a pointed look. “I find it quite hard to believe that after all our time on Earth, you wouldn’t know.”
Crowley, the absolutely drunk bastard, held a grin as he shook his head. “Never said I di-din-didn’t know. J’s’wanna know f’youknow. You know?”
Aziraphale scoffed, turning back to his desk. “Of course I know.”
“Well?” Crowley leaned forward where he sat and raised his brows expectantly. “What do they say, then?”
“I believe the most common phrase in English would be, ‘Will you marry me?’”
Crowley beamed. “Yes!” When Aziraphale did nothing more than shoot him a perplexed frown at his outburst, the demon added, “I will! I’ll–” another hiccup, “I’ll marry you, angel. Since you asked.”
Aziraphale widened his eyes. “Oh, you will?” He spoke as though Crowley were a child with an active imagination that he didn’t want to discourage.
A toothy grin from Crowley. “Yup. You asked me, an’ y’can’t take it back!”
“I see.” Aziraphale turned back to his desk, a smile tugging at his lips as he said, “Darling, I don’t want to shock you, but you may recall... We’ve been married for well over a year, now.” Stunned silence filled the room, much to the angel’s amusement.
“...We’rallllready-hic-mmmarried?” Crowley slurred.
Aziraphale tried and failed to stifle a chuckle as he confirmed, “We are, indeed.”
“Forgot,” Crowley said, sounding utterly bewildered. “How could I’ve’ve for-fr-forgotten that?!”
“Well, I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but I think you may be just a tad inebriated, my dear.”
“Mmn, uhh, may– Maybe. Might be, yeah.”
“Would you be a dear and sober up?” Aziraphale shot a patient, adoring smile Crowley’s way. “I’d like to give my husband a kiss. All this talk of marriage has got me feeling quite romantic, you know.”
Crowley gaped. “Kiss?! Your husband?!”
“Mm, that is what we typically call each other, isn’t it? Since we’ve wed.” Aziraphale gave a considerate frown. “Or are you not feeling that today, my dear? Shall I say ‘wife’? Or ‘spouse’, rather?”
“Sss– Puh! S’not that!”
“No?” Aziraphale smirked. “What is it, my dear?”
“We’re married!”
“I’d thought that had been established. Don’t tell me it’s still news to you.”
Crowley shook his head, a grin creeping back onto his flushed face. “Can’t get over it. S’fucking great. What I always wanted. N’now Ihaveit?!?” The demon’s eyes misted as he slurred, “M’gon-hic-M’gonna cry about it, ah‘think, maybe.”
Aziraphale shook his head, in a much more disapproving manner than his husband had just done. “You really do need to sober up, dear,” he said as he returned his attention to his paperwork. “In fact, I won’t have another word with you until you do. You’ll be sulking for days if I allow this to go on any longer.”
That seemed to be enough motivation. Crowley sobered immediately, then frowned. “Right,” he said, his tight, low voice doing very little to mask his embarrassment. “We’re not gonna be talking about what just– Angel, f’you ever bring this up, I swear I’ll deny it.”
“You were being utterly ridiculous, you know,” Aziraphale said without looking up from his work. He acted as though he were annoyed, but his voice was nothing less than fond.
“Well, you married me,” Crowley said flatly. He stood, then moved to lean over Aziraphale’s chair, looking down at the angel with a quirked brow and an almost imperceptible smirk. “Now, I believe I was promised a kiss?”