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"You know, you're really too cute to look at him like that all the time."
Crowley turned to his adopted sibling, looking perfectly innocent, though inwardly annoyed, knowing exactly what Muriel was referring to.
"Like what?"
Muriel giggled and didn't answer, so obvious was the explanation to them.
They had just finished dinner at the bookshop, and while they had a small after-dinner drink, Muriel and Crowley watched in amusement as Aziraphale pulled out all the books he could find on the mechanics of old cars. Much to Crowley's chagrin, a twinkle flashed in the bookseller's eye when he learned that Eric was a mechanic specializing in the restoration and maintenance of old cars, clearly revealing his interest in Crowley's Bentley.
But even if he was a little worried about his precious car, the florist found the spectacle of his lover, who was always so enthusiastic about books, absolutely charming.
Once Eric's arms were loaded with books, he and the bookseller returned to Muriel and Crowley.
As Eric sat down next to Muriel, Aziraphale said, "I'll get the desserts," and brushed his hand over Crowley's shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen.
Crowley followed him with his eyes, and though he was fully aware of another scrutinizing look staring back at him, he did his best to ignore it completely.
"You're literally drooling."
Reflexively, Crowley wiped his mouth and protested, "No, I'm not Muriel! You're just delusional!"
Muriel let out another snide chuckle before replying, "Yeah, I guess so, after all, what could be so special about this ordinary bookseller?"
"What?!!"
Crowley, offended on Aziraphale's behalf, began to speak loudly and gesticulate, a passionate fire burning in his eyes.
"Aziraphale is simply amazing! Thoroughly good, intelligent, handsome, brave, and there's more. He makes me smile or laugh for no reason, he pushes me to be the best I can be. Did I mention how handsome he is? And-"
He was interrupted by another chuckle from Muriel.
The florist's ardor melted like snow in the sun as he frowned and muttered, "Damn, I can't believe I fell for that. Hmph!"
By the time he turned to Muriel, his sibling's smile had lost all trace of mockery as they said gently, "You know, he's not perfect either, don't put him on a pedestal Crowley, it wouldn't do you or him any good."
Crowley appreciated Muriel's concern; their relationship would always be special, and he knew they had only his happiness in mind.
He replied to his sibling in the same tone, serious and soft, "Oh, I know he's not perfect, but just his imperfections, he's not afraid to show them to me. Everything, his failures, his mistakes, his fears, his demons. In fact, he's perfectly imperfect. Which in the end makes him perfect for me, because I am not perfect either."
Muriel nods before replying with a playful twinkle in her eyes, "My... Crowley, you've got it bad, big brother."
The florist rolled his eyes, then shook his head, "No, not bad, just good. "
Muriel looked fake shocked and replied, "My big brother bit the dust! I never thought I'd see the day when I'd see you so sappy."
Crowley shrugged, knowing there was no point in fighting it, and to be honest, he didn't feel like it either.
He just said, "It's like that, he brings out the best in me," then smiled softly, and Muriel nodded again before saying in a soft, serious tone, "I'm happy for you, big brother. Really."
They fell silent as Aziraphale returned with dessert, and the evening continued in a cheerful mood.
Later that evening, Aziraphale and Crowley stood in the doorway of the bookstore, intertwined, watching Muriel and Eric leave before going back inside. After closing the door, Aziraphale said quietly, "So I'm not perfect?"
He saw the florist freeze slightly before he turned and said, cheeks slightly flushed, "Don't tell me you..."
"...heard everything?" Aziraphale continued with a smile, "Yes, from ' amazing' to 'perfectly imperfect', I don't think I missed anything."
"Okay..."
Crowley knew he'd gotten carried away defending Aziraphale and couldn't remember everything he'd said, but enough to be a little embarrassed.
Aziraphale stepped closer and, after planting a light kiss on the florist's lips, told him gently, "Don't be embarrassed, it's rather nice to hear you compliment me, going so far as to bare your heart to Muriel, who I suspect will tease you about it for some time."
Crowley groaned as he imagined the multitude of jokes at his expense and, after wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, buried his face in his neck.
But Aziraphale would have none of it and placed his hands on the florist's cheeks, causing him to lift his head. Crowley was astonished to see the way the bookseller looked at him as he said, "You know, Crowley, everything you said applies to me, too. You're perfect for me, and I've got it bad for you, too. Very bad, in fact."
Then he pressed his lips to Crowley's in a soft, lingering kiss, and before he allowed himself to be carried away by the sweetness of the moment, the florist thought that he was willing to submit to Muriel's teasing as many times as it took if it meant that Aziraphale would look at him so adoringly every time.