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As the final beats of the love song faded, Aziraphale—no, Ezra—was overcome with a visceral feeling of loss. The world he’d helped create with the other players was slowly slipping away, and Frances’ announcement of the game coming to an end tore off the last remains of it.
An excited murmur filled the room as the rest of the players began shedding their characters and chatting about the game as themselves. Aziraphale’s heart wasn’t quite ready to let go yet, and the gentle fingers holding his hand told him he wasn’t the only one.
He looked at the demon—no, the man—beside him and squeezed those fingers tenderly, his heart fiercely believing in the romance they had built together in a timeframe of just one weekend.
When his friends had first recommended live action role playing to him, he had expected—well, a game. He had long since learned that the experience was closer to improvisational theatre than an actual game; people acted as their characters throughout the experience, speaking as them, reacting as them—feeling as them.
This weekend Ezra had existed in the skin of an angel called Aziraphale, who had tried to prevent an Apocalypse with a demon named Crowley. Aziraphale and Crowley had fallen in love in the timeframe of 6000 years, and Ezra’s own heart was now terribly confused.
“You okay?” Crow—Anthony asked beside him.
Ezra smiled, marvelling at the tide of feelings flowing inside him. He and Anthony had known each other in-character longer than as themselves, and yet…
"Yes, dear," he said, resisting an urge to brush a lock of errand red hair off Anthony’s forehead. "Just can't believe it's over."
Anthony nodded, still holding Ezra’s hand. Only a few minutes ago they were Aziraphale and Crowley, on their first proper date, in another world entirely. But the hand holding him was the same.
People around them gushed about anecdotes from the game ("Who mixed up the babies?! That was hilarious!"), but Ezra barely listened, having eyes only for Crowley. Well. Anthony.
"I wish we could've continued," Anthony said with a hushed voice. "Just a bit. I had one more thing in mind."
Aziraphale looked at him curiously, and leaned closer.
"Tell me," he said, heart beating loudly in his chest.
Crowley placed his other palm on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Just one thing," he said, and brushed his lips against Aziraphale's cheek. The gentle touch felt so utterly right that it sent a crackling jolt of electricity through Aziraphale's—Ezra's—body. They had agreed—Ezra and Anthony—on boundaries before the game, kisses were fine, just not on the lips. A common boundary to keep the wires from crossing, very sensible. And yet, in this moment, when the line between a character and a player was still thin and fragile, feelings bleeding through, it was so very hard to remember why that decision was a good one.
Ezra almost broke the promise, then and there. He parted his lips and shifted his head, just a bit, anticipation tingling under his skin. His hand found itself on Crowley's thigh, leaning closer and—
"Everyone! Thank you so much for a beautiful game!" Frances' voice cut through their moment, and Ezra startled away. Anthony's wide eyes told him he wasn't the only one caught in the moment.
Frances continued their instructions: "It's time for debriefing! Please gather with your groups, angels around that table, demons there. The Them and other humans take the next room, and—"
Ezra's ears hummed as he stood up, and reluctantly let go of Anthony's hand to join the other angel players to go through the post-game motions; repeating his real name to everyone, sharing his favourite parts, giving praise to the other players and receiving kind words in return. It all was designed to help players leave their characters behind, and help others to see the real them. And it worked! Slowly Ezra started to feel like himself again.
But all those feelings came back, crashing over him with full force as soon as the event ended and he saw Anthony again, grinning beside his black car—very much not a Bentley—looking ridiculously attractive.
Oh dear.
"Need a ride?"
Ezra swallowed. He'd planned on taking the Tube, but… He also wanted to spend more time with Anthony, to talk about the game. That's all.
"I wouldn't want to impose…" he began cautiously.
"You wouldn't, we live in the same direction don't we?" Anthony answered. "It's not far."
Ezra hesitated, a token protest on his lips, but when Anthony opened the car door for him, he stopped resisting.
"How was it for you? The game?" Anthony asked as soon as the car started and they left for a rapidly darkening night.
Ezra was unable to fight a smile. "Oh, simply marvellous! I was… Truth to be told, I was a bit worried about my character initially, as he didn't have that many friends, and…that's… well…"
"Yup, same," Anthony admitted. "And I get it, that kind of setup will ruin your whole game if you don't click with your closest contact player in the game."
"Oh yes," Ezra sighed. "But I daresay we…Well, at least in my point of view—"
Crowley glanced at him, and the passing street lamp coloured his face just enough for Ezra to see his shy smile.
"We clicked," he said, and his tone made Ezra's heart leap.
“You truly made my game,” he said. “There were so many moments when I wasn’t quite sure what to do, and suddenly you were there, and—you played the original tempter very well.”
“Ngk, weeeeelll I just… like these kinds of characters, you know? The ones who can go around poking and nudging stuff. Suited me well. And you were a perfect bastard, you know? You made that angel interesting!”
They launched into a fast paced conversation where they recollected all the best moments in their game and discussed LARPs in general. Ezra didn’t remember when he’d had so much fun with someone he had basically just met.
“ —and then Ligur’s player? He just went with it! Decided it was a good way to die!”
“Really?! So Crowley just—”
“Murdered his colleague, yeah, you didn’t know that?”
“No! What do you think, will he tell Aziraphale?”
Anthony chuckled. “The way I—the way we played it… I think he will, yeah. They are so…”
“In love?” Ezra suggested quietly. The tingling tension was suddenly back, surrounding them in the darkness of the moving car.
“...Yeah.”
They were quiet for a moment, the street lamps lighting their faces in a steady rhythm.
“That kind of play… it was really fucking easy with you, you know," Anthony continued, staring at the road ahead.
Ezra swallowed. "Likewise."
His voice was quiet, but Anthony heard it regardless.
“Good,” he said. “The way we agreed on stuff beforehand was—it was really good. It worked. But—Satan, I didn’t expect to feel like this.”
Anthony ran his hand through his hair before dropping it back on the gear stick. Ezra watched it for a moment, his own fingers flexing nervously on his lap. After a moment's hesitation he shifted his hand just a bit along his thigh, and then just a bit closer.
Their fingers brushed by the gear stick, gently, tentatively.
Ezra let the touch linger. “I feel like I have known you for—”
“6000 years, eh?”
“Precisely,” Ezra sighed. “This is ridiculous, I don't remember ever feeling like this, I haven’t really played romance before, so this is a bit… new.”
Aziraphale and Crowley as characters were written quite ambiguously in regards to romance, but when Anthony had suggested they could try to add a bit of romance into the fraternising, Ezra had got curious and agreed without a second thought.
“Do you regret it?” Anthony asked, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes.
“No!” Ezra denied hastily. The car turned to a familiar road, taking them closer and closer to Ezra’s home, and he didn’t want their moment to end quite yet.
“Is it always like this?”
Anthony gnawed at his lip a bit before answering. “Yeah—and no, I’ve played some, and I like the rush of it but—with you it was—I mean…”
“Yes?”
“It felt good. Safe. And I really shouldn't say this but... you are really quite attractive, you know?”
Ezra huffed a surprised laugh. “...Really?”
“Yes.”
“Well, so are you,” Ezra finally muttered, looking resolutely outside of the side window. He heard Crowley’s soft chuckle behind him, but kept his eyes on the road, cheeks heating with the admission. It all felt unreal. People like Anthony didn't say things like that about plump librarians like Ezra, and Ezra wasn't confident enough to flirt with people so obviously out of his league. And yet, somehow, they were holding hands again.
And then, way too soon, the trip was over. “This is yours?” Crowley asked, smiling in that irresistible way that made Aziraphale’s breath hitch.
“Yes,” he said, but his limbs refused to cooperate and made no movement to leave the car. Their eyes met, and—it was unavoidable, really. The irresistible pull between them was too strong.
“We agreed, no kisses on lips during the game,” Crowley murmured, his breath tracing Aziraphale’s cheek. “But… I think…”
“The game ended hours ago,” Aziraphale answered, and just like that, closed the distance between them.
It was a soft, gentle thing, tentative, and yet so right. There was no urgency to it, no frantic search for more. Just the soft movement and tender exploration, as they shared something they had built towards for one weekend that held stories worth a millenia.
And it was over way too soon.
“I’d… well, I’d like to meet you again,” Crowley—no, Anthony—breathed as they separated for a moment. “I’d like to see, if we could… you know.”
The question was what finally startled Ezra out the romantic bubble they had built around each other. He pulled away, breathless and suddenly panicking.
“Oh my,” he said, touching his lips and trying to grasp what had just happened. “This… I don’t think—This is a mistake. I’m not Aziraphale, I’m not—interesting, I’m just.. me, and you don’t even know me, I don’t think that’s… I’m sorry, this isn't a good idea.”
Aziraphale’s heart ached as Crowley pulled away.
“Oh.”
Ezra shook his head frantically, trying to get hold of his emotions. Those that were his own. “Don’t get me wrong! I really—I like you, but… this isn’t real, I need to… Perhaps one day we could... I don't know. Go for a coffee? But—”
Anthony seemed to sense his distress.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry… LARP feelings, yeah. I shouldn’t have," he said, nodding solemnly and pulling his hand away. "Take your time, message me later? If you like?”
Ezra could barely nod, as he scrambled out of the car, hands shaking and heart tearing into confused pieces. Or was it Aziraphale’s heart?
“Yes. Let’s… later! Thank you for the ride and—well. Good night!”
He practically ran to his front door, completely sure that if he looked back and saw Crowley—Anthony—he’d turn back and return to the car, or worse, invite Anthony in. It would be fun at first, maybe they'd have a fling, enjoy it while the artificial love lasted. But it would end, sooner rather than later, because Ezra in real life wasn't the kind of person to hold the interest of someone like Anthony—well, anyone, really, and he wasn’t sure his confused heart would survive the consequences of that.
Better this way, he thought and closed the door behind him.
***
***
***
Slowly but surely, their characters' voices gave way to the real Anthony and Ezra as their conversations evolved from their LARP experiences to other topics. Anthony introduced Ezra to the horrors of reaction gifs and ridiculous memes, but also matched his salty essays about certain book adaptations with his own just as long and passionate ramblings about clothes, fabrics and bad costume choices on period dramas.
Ezra fully expected the thrill to abate soon, but days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and they kept finding new topics to chat about. Anthony wrote a dozen messages a minute when he got excited, and Ezra found it ridiculously endearing. He was glued to his phone, well and truly smitten, with the goofy smiles and all.
***
***
Ezra stood on the corner and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck as the chilly wind blew through the city. The coffee shop he and Anthony had chosen was right across the street, looking warm and inviting, but Ezra’s feet weren’t following his orders.
He was way too early, almost forty-five minutes. He could blame the Tube schedule, but mostly it was because of the distressing fear of being late. Now that he was here, he should go in, pick a table and drink something warm to abate his nerves, but for some ineffable reason he couldn’t make himself do that.
His thoughts were a jumbling mess. What would the baristas think if he sat there alone, waiting almost an hour for his date to arrive? What if something came up and Anthony couldn’t come? What if, upon meeting face to face, Anthony would decide this wasn’t something he wanted, after all. He should’ve brought something for Anthony. What did people do on dates anyway? Who said it was a date? Ezra had got over Crowley, but had he actually told Anthony how smitten he was with him? Maybe Anthony was here just to meet him as a friend?
Ezra’s increasingly frantic thoughts screeched to a halt, when he saw a familiar figure standing a couple of yards from the coffee shop door. Shoulders up, hands deep into the pockets of the tight jeans, rocking on the balls of his feet and staring the other way. Waiting.
After a hasty check on his phone to make sure he hadn’t remembered the time wrong—no, still over half an hour to go—Ezra rushed forward and slammed his hand on the pedestrian crosswalk button. Anthony was here. Waiting for him. When the lights changed, Ezra practically ran across the street.
It was only when Anthony noticed him, that Ezra realised how much the anxiety had weighed on his shoulders. The moment their eyes met, a huge warm smile spread on Anthony’s face and Ezra was so relieved he was sure his feet stopped touching the ground for a moment.
“You’re early,” Ezra said, unable to form a proper greeting in his excitement.
“So are you,” Anthony pointed out.
They looked at each other for a short moment, before a giddy chuckle escaped from Ezra’s lips, and suddenly they both burst out laughing.
“You look good,” Anthony finally managed, wiping tears off his eyes.
“Likewise,” Ezra answered, and sobered up a bit. They were suddenly quite close, their breathing forming light steam between them in the frosty air.
Anthony pushed his fingers through his hair, and looked rather bashful. “What are the rules right now?” he asked. “Because I’d like to—but maybe we should have the coffee first.”
Ezra tilted his head. Was Anthony asking…?
“Or not at all,” Anthony continued hastily. “I mean, we never agreed—shit. I’m being a presumptuous idiot. You just look so ridiculously cute, and I—fuck, I’ll shut up now. Sorry. Coffee?”
Ezra’s heart thudded against his ribs. “You speak exactly the same way you write,” he said, pressing his gloved hand on Anthony’s arm. “I find it rather cute as well.”
An incoherent string of syllables slipped through Anthony’s lips, as Ezra stepped closer. Slowly, hyper aware of any signs of Anthony pulling away. But Anthony didn’t pull away, instead his palm was suddenly on Ezra’s waist, holding him close.
“I realise I rather messed up our first kiss, but if you are amenable—”
“That wasn’t us,” Anthony whispered against his lips. “That was them. But this—”
Anthony didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t have to. Their lips met and their cool noses brushed against each other, sending shivers down Ezra’s spine. Time didn’t stop and there wasn’t any fanfare, but there was welcoming tenderness that made Ezra’s knees weak.
Being kissed like that, out in the open, on a busy street—there weren’t words for the feeling that filled Ezra’s chest, and when they pulled away, he felt like something had shifted. Something small and domestic, and as such, slightly terrifying.
“There,” Anthony said, smiling smugly, arms still around Ezra’s waist. “A very human kiss. The two occult beings—”
“Ethereal.”
Anthony blinked, and then burst out laughing again, shaking in Ezra’s arms.
“Bastard,” he mumbled and pressed his forehead on Ezra’s shoulder.
“Coffee?” Ezra answered, giddy with relief, excitement and several other emotions he couldn’t quite name.
Anthony chuckled, but didn’t otherwise move. “In a minute,” he said, still hiding his face. “Lemme have a moment. Might’ve been a bit more nervous than I thought. That I’d scare you away again. Or something.”
Ezra hugged him close.
“Not going anywhere.”
***
Two years later
Queen’s Greatest Hits blared from the small Bluetooth speaker on a precariously leaning pile of cardboard boxes.
Anthony, humming along, lifted the speaker to peek inside a box. Finding nothing interesting, he shrugged and sashayed over to the next pile. Ezra sat on the floor next to his newly built bookshelf, and watched the scavenger hunt with interest.
“I thought you were making pizza,” he commented after a moment, and turned to put one book on the shelf before reaching for another. He was sure they had somehow multiplied between the packing and unpacking.
“Eeeeeeugh,” Anthony whined, zigzagging over the unruly sea of boxes towards Ezra’s bookshelves. “Can’t find the can opener!”
“Still not regretting your disorganised packing?”
“Nope!” Anthony said, wrapping his arms around Ezra’s shoulders from behind. “Got my place packed in record time, so we could get everything to our place as soon as possible”, he continued, and planted a kiss on Ezra’s temple. “Worth it.”
“And now we’ll suffer the unpacking,” Ezra chuckled, leaning into the embrace. “And the dreadful lack of a can opener.”
Anthony leaned over his shoulder and poked at the book on Ezra’s lap. “You know you’ll never get those unpacked if you stop to read each of them?”
“I don’t—”
“I saw you spend fifteen minutes with that Austen,” Anthony said, and nudged Ezra’s side. “Now, geddup and help me to find that opener so we can eat.”
“Darling, it’s already late. Let’s order in and use the extra time to make this place habitable.”
“Fhhhhsh… fine,” Anthony grumbled and slumped on the floor beside him, leaning on his elbows. “But tomorrow I’ll treat you to that pizza! My specialty!”
Ezra smiled and fished his phone from his pocket. He was just about to open the delivery app, when he noticed a new email in his inbox, and the title caught his eye.
GOOD OMENS 2: Something’s going down in the up!
He forgot the food and opened the message.
"Hello to all angels, demons, and assorted humans! In honour of the second anniversary of our most talked about LARP ever, we are proud to announce the nice and accurate sequel of the event!
Head to our website for details and signup! We’d love to see familiar faces in familiar roles, familiar faces in unfamiliar roles, unfamiliar faces in familiar roles and, of course, unfamiliar faces in unfamiliar roles!
The event will be organised…"
Ezra stopped reading and turned to face Anthony, suddenly giddy with fresh excitement.
“Darling, can I ask you something?”
“Sure angel.”
The nickname made Ezra smile—if possible—even wider.
“How would you feel about bringing Crowley and Aziraphale back?”