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It was the middle of December. The time was around 7 p.m. Snow was falling softly from the sky and making small piles on the ground. Although it didn’t snow much in Soho, it was still a cold place.
In the bookshop on Whickber Street, an angel was getting into the traditional spirit of Christmas.
Trying (and failing) to get his demon into the same kind of spirit.
“Crowley, can you help me put the tree up? I should’ve done it sooner, but time really did get the better of me.”
“Aziraphale, is this all really necessary? Every other bloody shop is doing the same thing. We’re not going to stand out.”
“Yes, but my dear, it isn’t about standing out. It’s about the spirit of Christmas! Come on. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, after all.”
“Oh, gosh. Is that a reference?”
“Maggie gave me a new Best Of The Holidays album to spin. Normally music with words isn’t my style, but I always make an exception for Christmas.”
“You know, angel, sometimes you’re insufferable. Yes, I’ll help you put up the tree.”
Crowley went over to the box the plastic tree was sitting in (Aziraphale used the same one every year) and pulled out the stand and tree skirt while Aziraphale went to his record player and put on his brand new holiday disc. Crowley groaned when he heard the first couple of bars of Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow! and looked at Aziraphale in anguish. “Do we really have to–”
“Yes, Crowley! Come on!”
Aziraphale pulled the bottom half of the tree out and put it in the base, which Crowley had put near the window (the same place Aziraphale put it every single year) and skipped around the bookshop. Crowley put the middle section of the tree into the bottom, and looked at Aziraphale dancing happily around the boxes of Christmas decorations in the middle of the main room of the shop. It was hard not to smile, and Aziraphale noticed the grin on his mouth. He smirked.
“You’re having fun, aren’t you?”
“What?” Crowley’s face fell. “No. This is silly.”
“Oh, Crowley, you’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“No!”
“Hm, sure.”
Aziraphale went up to Crowley and leaned into him, mimicking Dean Martin’s voice. “But if you really hold me tight…”
“Angel, you are ridiculous.” Crowley rolled his eyes and put up the top of the tree. “Do you want to do the star?”
“Ooh, yes, please.” Aziraphale took their tree topper out of the box and put it on top of the tree. “Gorgeous.”
“Really is, angel,” Crowley said, looking at Aziraphale. “Oh, and the tree looks nice too.”
Aziraphale sighed. “You’re such a romantic.” He walked to their box of Christmas decorations. “Alright. What next? Oh! Let me put our stockings up.”
“Didn’t mine break last year?”
“Oh, I got a new one a couple months ago, it was on sale. Should we put all the gifts in the stockings or should we put some under the tree?”
“Oh, let’s do the tree. Yours isn’t going to fit in a stocking.”
“Alright– wait, I thought we said small things this year? I’ve got everything I could ever want, Crowley.”
Crowley scratched the back of his neck. “Y-yeah, it’s pretty small. Not that big of a deal. Just wouldn’t go in the stocking.”
“Alright. I believe you. Now, after I put up the stockings, I’ll need help with the lights outside, before it gets too cold–” Aziraphale stopped and thought for a moment. “Actually, come to think of it, could you put the ornaments on the tree while I deal with the lights and wreaths outside?”
“Yeah, alright. Are they all in the boxes?”
“Yup, same as last year.” Aziraphale hung the stockings on the edge of a shelf.
“Okay. While you’re outside, could I please turn off that music? I feel like my ears are going to burst.”
“Fine. You need to find some way to get into the holiday spirit, though. Christmas is in less than two weeks.”
“Yes! Yes. I will. I promise.”
“Don’t be such a Scrooge, dear fellow.”
Crowley groaned, taking off the record and putting it in the sleeve. “Have fun outside, angel.”
Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead and went outside with a binful of lights.
Crowley looked at the tree, with no lights on it and no ornaments. He really didn’t want to do this. He exhaled deeply, and then had an idea. With a grin and the wave of his hand, the tree decorations magically appeared on the plastic pine. “There we go,” he whispered to himself, and laid down on the couch, “time to relax.”
He woke up two hours later, and his eyes almost burned from the red, green, and white that greeted him when he sat up.
“Angel, what did you–”
Aziraphale looked over, closing A Christmas Carol and taking off his glasses. “Oh, you’re awake! What do you think? I heard you miracle the things onto the tree, which was very smart, so I did the same with the lights. But I knew everything had to be perfect inside, so I put everything else up myself. It looks pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
Crowley heard It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year coming from Aziraphale’s stereo, and finally noticed that he and Aziraphale were both wearing Santa hats.
“Doesn’t this seem a bit excessive?”
Aziraphale looked around and shrugged. “Well, I don’t think so.”
“No one ever comes over. No one’s going to see it!”
“You and I will! Come on,” Aziraphale pulled Crowley up off the couch, and dragged him to the center of the main room.
“Oh, Aziraphale, my eyes are burning.”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Oh, wait, what’s that?”
Aziraphale looked up at the ceiling, and Crowley followed his gaze. There was a small bundle of mistletoe hanging there.
“Angel…”
“Oh, whoops, forgot I put that there.” Aziraphale laughed an obviously phony laugh. “Well, it’s tradition. Of course. We have to kiss.”
“You know, you could’ve just asked. I would have said yes.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Crowley put his arms on Aziraphale’s shoulders.
“I still don’t like Christmas, you know.”
Aziraphale placed his hands gently on Crowley’s waist.
“I know.”
Aziraphale softly kissed Crowley’s lips, and pulled him in closer by his torso.
“My eyes are closed, but I can feel the warmth of your face. You’re blushing.” Crowley grins, running his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “Were you drinking while you put up the decorations?”
“Maybe. Only a glass or two.”
“Mhm. I taste it.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.”
Crowley put his lips back on Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale let out a small groan of approval, which made Crowley’s heart rate increase– a heart that really had no usage except to flutter when his angel was around. Aziraphale leaned more into Crowley, pulling him in even more still. Crowley let go for a moment and tried to say something.
“Aren’t mistletoe kisses normally shorter?”
“Yes. Can we keep going?”
“Oh, please.”
Aziraphale put his lips on Crowley’s this time, much less gentle than before. It was so silent in the shop, you easily could’ve heard a pin drop. Well, up until Crowley started running his hands and fingers down Aziraphale’s frame, from his shoulders down to his thighs. Then Aziraphale’s quickened breaths and moans would most likely cover the sound of the pin.
“Crowley, you know I never last when you start to handle me.”
“Yeah. I do.”
Aziraphale leaned into Crowley’s touch and Crowley felt Aziraphale’s breaths as he struggled to be quiet. Aziraphale let go.
“I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s too early, maybe later. In our bedroom. But we will.”
“Okay, no worries. You’re alright.”
Aziraphale looked at Crowley awkwardly.
“That was really not what I was expecting you to do.”
“Really? You know how much I love seeing you like that.”
Aziraphale blushed. “Uh, do you want some wine?”
“That would be wonderful.”