Chapter Text
Aziraphale stared at the man before him, as he gestured towards the various constellations.
This was what he knew about the man. His name was Anthony J. Crowley, although he usually went by his last name. Aziraphale wasn't aware what the J stood for. He was an astronomy professor at Oxford University and he held one-hour lectures at the local planetarium on the Milky Way and beyond, every Thursday at 5pm.
And he was breath-taking. Tall and thin, always wearing dark leather, although the configuration varied greatly. Long, red hair, usually tied back and black sunglasses that hid golden eyes that sparkled just as brightly as the stars around them.
Aziraphale had been coming to every one of his lectures for months now. This was what he knew about the subject. Stars... were pretty?
Admittedly, he wasn't really coming to listen to the lectures. Or rather, he would like to listen to them. He would. He was just finding it extremely hard to concentrate when the most gorgeous creature on the planet was talking to the room. Long fingers pointing excitedly at this star and that one, despite the fact he must have done so countless of times. There was always a smile on Crowley's face, one that remained a beautiful fixture for as long as the lecture lasted. To disappear the moment the projectors were off and the room plunged into darkness.
It was that, perhaps, that really drew Aziraphale in. Oh, the man was stunning, of course, anyone with working sight could confirm that. And those without would need to listen to his voice for only a minute to come to the same conclusion. That sinful drawl that rose and fell with his excitement, a melody of gasps and reverent whispers as he twirled around to point at a comet that flew by their heads or a meteor shower or even simply a star that sung into the cosmic void.
He was gorgeous. And he was so passionate about everything that he was doing. And Aziraphale didn't understand any of it.
For all of his borderline stalkerish behaviour, the first time Aziraphale talked to Crowley, they weren't even at the planetarium. Yes, he was also surprised by that development. Also? Mildly horrified.
There was an astronomy convention in town and he had heard there would be some rare books sold there. Of course he had to go. The fact that it didn't even cross his mind that Crowley was most likely going to be there as well... Well, he blamed his excitement for the new books he was going to add to his collection for that.
Crowley had his own booth. Of course he did. Aziraphale tried very hard to avoid it. He really didn't like the way all of this was making him look.
He was skulking around, desperately inching towards the exit, books pressed to his chest, shoulders hunched when he heard that familiar voice yell out from behind him, "Oi, you!"
He shouldn't have turned around. He knew that. The voice could have been talking to anyone!
Aziraphale did turn around. The voice was talking to him. He knew that.
Slowly, he faced the other man. Gave a small wave when he saw the familiar smirk twisting thin lips. Let himself be drawn closer by the wave of those graceful fingers he had spent way too long imagining curled around him.
Only when he made his way to the booth, did he realise he had never been this close to the other man. Goodness, but he was so used to seeing Crowley in the dim light of the planetarium that when faced with his full beauty, it almost managed to knock the breath out of his lungs.
The starlight did him no justice. The man had freckles. They were adorable and Aziraphale had the sudden urge to count them. With his lips.
"Hey!" Crowley greeted him like a man who had no idea of the sinful thoughts that were running through his companion's brain like a movie reel. Aziraphale wanted to keep it that way so he swiftly nodded in return. "Haven't I seen you in my lectures before?"
"I am not stalking you!" Aziraphale exclaimed like any innocent person would. His eyes were a touch too wild for the conversation and he tried desperately to hide that fact by not letting them focus on the other man. Instead he stared at the booth, then at the brochures in front of Crowley, then at Crowley's fingers wrapped around them. Then he traced the fingers up, he couldn't quite help it, to stare at the wicked way the other man was smiling at him. Yeah, he didn't think this was helping him prove his innocence much.
To his surprise, Crowley laughed. He looked even more gorgeous with his head thrown back, long neck bared and shivering in amusement.
Aziraphale was sweating. This was not good.
"I wouldn't have told everyone about the conference if I didn't want people to come." Crowley... Crowley winked at him. It was a little hard to guess what was happening underneath the perpetual sunglasses but the rest of his face surely looked like the man of his dreams had winked at him.
Perhaps that was why it took Aziraphale a few seconds to process his words. Yes. Of course. Of course he would have mentioned it during the lecture. The lecture that Aziraphale had attended. And had been, of course, listening to attentively. Yes. That lecture.
"Yes, of course," Aziraphale said with a nod. He only hoped the blush climbing over his throat was not quite as visible but with the harsh lighting overhead, he wasn't holding his breath. "Last week."
Crowley gave him an odd look. "The week before."
Aziraphale nodded again. He was a busy man. Sometimes the weeks blurred together. This had nothing to do with whether or not he was paying attention during the lectures. Because he was.
Paying attention, that was.
Luckily for him, Crowley had already moved on from his unwitting blunder. The man fiddled with his brochures again, before levelling him with a look.
"I only wish more people came. You are the first person I have seen from my lectures all day."
Aziraphale, who had seen the way other people stared at Crowley, did not doubt for one second that he wasn't the only one who had completely missed it, when the other man had told them about it. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to admit to that.
Instead, he tried to school his expression into something a bit more empathetic. It wasn't a hard thing to do, considering his heart did twinge in sympathy at the miserable look on Crowley's face. The other man really enjoyed what he did, didn't he?
"I am sure they are around, dear fellow," he said with a smile, a bit too soft for the fact it was the first time they had talked to each other. "There is so much to see here. So much to do. I have no doubt you will meet them shortly."
Crowley shrugged. "I guess. Glad to see you, though. You have been coming for months, haven't you? Been meaning to talk to you for a while now but you always disappear the moment the lecture ends. Big fan, are you?"
Of Crowley, yes. Of the galaxy, less so. But again, not stupid enough to say that either.
"Oh, yes, of course," Aziraphale hurried to confirm, because he was not a lunatic. "I love all the... constellations. And the stars."
He waved the hand that was not holding the books to his chest, hoping that would be enough. Judging by the smile on Crowley's lips, a hope that had no other choice but to die a quiet death.
The other man's gaze was briefly drawn to the treasure in his arms, before golden eyes were meeting his, with something that even with the glasses in the way, Aziraphale could tell was mischief.
"And the stars, of course," the man echoed around a razor-sharp smile. "Which one is your favourite?"
"Favourite?" Aziraphale's voice was faint. He was feeling very faint. He also couldn't remember the name of a single celestial object. "Star?"
Could he say Crowley? No, that would be ridiculous. The man wasn't a star despite the way he shined so brightly, Aziraphale sometimes had the ridiculous notion to shield his eyes. Besides that, it was creepy. One didn't go around giving people pet names the first time they had spoken. Even if they had fancied them from afar for quite some time.
Crowley nodded. Didn't offer even an ounce of help. Well, perhaps he thought that he did when he clarified, "Or even a constellation. Knowing the stars by name is a bit advanced, isn't it?"
Yes. Okay. Aziraphale could do that. He actually knew of one constellation. How he had learnt about it was unimportant.
"The Little Dipper," he blurted, almost wildly, as if the answer to a million pound question. And then, to make matters worse, he pointed at Crowley's, currently covered, arms. "It's the one on your shoulder, isn't it?"
That seemed to catch Crowley off-guard and he blinked behind the sunglasses, one hand coming to cradle his shoulder. Even his smirk seemed to have lost its edge a little.
"You wot?"
"Yes, well-"
Oh, goodness, how could he even explain this? Crowley had worn a vest once. Not that Aziraphale had needed more than one look at those arms, covered in bright ink, to remember them forever. Again, not something that would make him look particularly well-adjusted if he said it outloud, though.
"You wore a vest," he said, because there was no going around that one. "And I recognised it. The tattoo. It's very beautifully done."
He hadn't so much recognised it as booted up his ancient computer right after the lecture and googled constellations until he had found the one that reminded him of the art that would probably haunt his dreams until he perished.
Crowley's mouth was doing something extremely concerning, albeit amusing. Opening and closing on its own volition, producing a string of little vowless sounds that could charitably be called words.
Aziraphale waited. He just knew that if he opened his mouth, he would only dig his grave of shame even deeper.
"Right." Finally, Crowley nodded. "Yes. The Little Dipper. Got it in one. Good job, you."
Aziraphale couldn't help it, he beamed. It should have made him feel ridiculous, standing in front of this genius of a man, holding a crumb of knowledge and being praised for it. He would get over it, he knew. The moment that warm glow in his chest had lost its light. Give it a few million years.
But there was something else in Crowley's words that made him startle. Oh, goodness, he really was screwed. Five minutes in the orbit of this gorgeous man and he had lost all his manners.
"Aziraphale Fell," he hurried to say, offering a hand. Yet another reminder that this was the first time they had actually spoken.
At least, it seemed the same had just occurred to Crowley. He took the offered hand, his grip as strong and warm as Aziraphale had thought it would be. Not that he had spent much time imagining that.
"Right, like the angel, yeah? Name's Anthony Crowley. Though, I prefer-" The man hesitated. Despite the downright bizarre conversation they had been having, it was actually the first time he looked like he was lost for words. His cheeks were vaguely pink. Aziraphale wondered what they would taste like.
"Crowley, yes, I know," he hurried to say. It was only fair, considering how many of his blunders Crowley had overlooked in the span of a tea break of a conversation. "Pleased to meet you."
Crowley nodded. Probably didn't realise he was still holding onto the other man's hand. Aziraphale wasn't going to remind him.
Even with the glasses in the way, he could feel Crowley's eyes on him, unbearably radiant, like the sun on a warm summer day. And then the man was tipping his head down, staring- Staring at his chest? No, that couldn't be. Aziraphale followed his gaze to- Yes, to the books he still had pressed to his chest.
Try as he might, he couldn't quite fight down the wave of disappointment.
At least not until Crowley tugged on their, still connected, hands and said, "What you got there, angel?"
Aziraphale almost didn't go to the next lecture.
Realistically, nothing had changed. Yes, they had had a lovely chat at the conference, concerning Aziraphale's newly acquired books. Which had then naturally led to a discussion of Aziraphale's career as a part-time book collector and, if he couldn't help it, a bookseller.
And Crowley had listened to him, glasses pushed on the top of his head, attention rapt. It had been almost unnerving, having that beautiful man's focus entirely on him, those golden eyes fastened on him like he was a star in the night sky.
And then Crowley had shaken his hand and had told him he would love to see him next week. Aziraphale had no idea how he had even made it back home after that.
Realistically, nothing had changed.
So why did it feel like everything had?
Perhaps because the moment he entered the room, Crowley was turning to face him, a smile on his face. For him. Just for Aziraphale.
As he made his way to his usual seat he could feel far too many eyes on him. Because Crowley, as a rule, did not pay attention to anything that wasn't a celestial body. Except for Aziraphale, apparently, who he had smiled at. Yes, he still had trouble wrapping his head around it.
In a desperate attempt to regain even a sliver of normality back, Aziraphale made to get up the moment the lights blinked back to full power. Only to find the object of his dreams, both nightmares and otherwise, leaning over him.
Crowley looked at him over his glasses, a predator with its claws around its prey. Then he smirked, and the claws tightened around Aziraphale.
"Fancy a coffee?"
He should have said no. Probably had, now that he thought about it. Still followed after Crowley towards the little coffee shop right across from the planetarium and then made his way to the only available table, while the other man ordered for them both.
Aziraphale didn't even drink coffee. Which he must have shared with Crowley at some point as only a few minutes later, a steaming mug of peppermint tea was placed right in front of him. He curled his hands around the mug, more to have something to do than because he was particularly cold.
Goodness, but with the way Crowley was looking at him, he was actually burning.
"What did you think of the lecture today, then?" Crowley asked, apropos of nothing. There was a curious edge to his curved lips, almost as if he was expecting something but Aziraphale paid him no mind. Suddenly, he had bigger problems he had to worry about.
Today's lecture had been on Greek mythology and the stars, Aziraphale had had enough self-preservation to pay attention to that bit, even if he hadn't been able to focus on any of the stars around him for the last hour. Well, perhaps he had been able to pay attention to one of them.
"I enjoyed it greatly," Aziraphale said instead, trying very hard to keep intact his status as a normal human being that did not go around calling strangers 'his star'.
A single eyebrow rose above Crowley's sunglasses. The smile sharpened. "Oh, yeah? Which myth did you enjoy the most?"
It took Aziraphale more than a minute to respond. Partly because the man before him had shifted closer, leaning on his crossed arms. The movement had made his leather jacket tighten around his biceps and Aziraphale's mouth had gone a bit dry there for a second.
Another, larger, part of why he had no idea how to respond was because he could not remember a single myth Crowley had talked about during that hour. Not a single one. Had he mentioned the "Great Bear" and the "Little Bear"? He vaguely remembered hearing those words, in between flashes of red lips and golden eyes.
Aziraphale gulped, hands tightening around the mug.
"The- Well, the myth of Prometheus, I suppose, is a noteworthy one? The Titan that defied the gods by stealing fire from them and giving it to the humans. I have-" Aziraphale hesitated at that. Crowley had just taken off his glasses and was staring at him, something unreadable softening his face. "I have always enjoyed that one."
Silence stretched between them. A strand of hair fell in front of Crowley's eyes. Aziraphale's fingers twitched.
Finally, he couldn't take any more of it. "Have I- Is that not how the myth goes?"
Heaven knew he did not specialise in mythology. While his interests were varied and very much stories related, they could not, he was sure, measure up to Crowley's knowledge. It was his specialty after all. The stories in the sky.
Crowley shook his head, slowly at first, a little dazed, before he was smiling again. It looked nothing like the smirk that had been sharpening his features ever since the start of their conversation.
"No, you are right. That's how the myth goes, yeah. It's just not something I spoke about in class today?"
Ah. Well, considering how many Greek myths were tied to the stars, Aziraphale had supposed his guess had had a bit of a sporting chance.
"However, there are constellations related to the myth, are there not?" he asked with the voice of a person who knew the answer to their question to be in the affirmative. And tried valiantly to school his expression into not showing how much he was hoping the answer would be in the affirmative.
The dazed look had not left Crowley's eyes. At least, not until he shifted again, leant even closer.
"Yeah, course! There are a couple, all part of the ones that depict the 12 labours of Hercules-"
Aziraphale raised the mug to his lips, as he let himself enjoy the private lesson from the most gorgeous and passionate man he had ever met.
He even tried to pay attention. He actually did.
He learnt far more during that coffee date than he had during all those months he had been visiting the planetarium.
"What did you think?" Crowley asked, before he had even taken his seat across from him.
Aziraphale focused on the piece of cake the other man had pushed towards him, taking his time to tear off a corner before bringing it to his lips. Chewed slowly, enjoying the rich taste of chocolate and apricots bursting on his tongue. He might have made a sound.
That last part wasn't deliberate. The rest of it, though, the rest was designed to buy him as much time as possible to gather all of his recollections of today's lecture.
Binary stars. That had been what Crowley had talked about. While Aziraphale had tried to listen.
But... Well, Crowley was wearing a black turtleneck today. The soft-looking material hugged his slight frame, his long neck and Aziraphale was weak. It was a miracle he even knew what today's topic was.
Okay, well, he had read what it was before he had been assaulted by the vision that was Crowley in a turtleneck. But that was hardly the point.
Aziraphale nodded, bringing another forkful to his lips. Vaguely, it occurred to him that he should probably take his time, eat smaller bites, just to make this last. But, Heavens, the cake was simply scrumptious. Crowley always knew what to get for him.
The man in question didn't look like the silence bothered him one bit. In fact, he was leaning closer, eyes intent on Aziraphale's face. He had stopped wearing his glasses altogether sometime after the 3rd time he had asked him out after his lecture. And he didn't look like he was expecting something, like he was waiting for Aziraphale to finish his cake. He looked... he looked like he was enjoying this, perhaps just as much as the other man was.
Aziraphale banished that thought from his head, far too ridiculous to be considered for even a moment longer.
"Binary stars are fascinating, aren't they?" Crowley began, seemingly accepting that the man before him would not be adding much to the conversation. Aziraphale didn't let himself relax. He had been fooled by this before. "Two stars, orbiting each other. So close that they might look like a singular object to the naked eye."
Aziraphale hummed around his drink, English tea that paired so well with the cake. Just the right amount of sugar and milk he always took in it. Crowley had needed to see him prepare it just once in order to start bringing it to the table, already perfect.
He waited for the killing blow. It didn't take long.
"Which one did you like best?"
The thing was... The thing was Crowley was gorgeous, yes, and he was passionate and he was attentive. He was simply perfect, if one was to overlook one tiny detail. It wasn't even a bothersome detail, many people would surely find it just as lovely as the rest of the man's behaviour. But to Aziraphale, who was desperately trying to conceal a very significant fact about himself, it was simply a nightmare.
Crowley always asked Aziraphale for his opinion on his lectures. Always asked for his favourite star, or what he had found most fascinating about the topic. And despite the fact that this was the fifth time this happened, it still took Aziraphale by surprise.
One of these days, he decided, he really ought to start preparing beforehand. Treat this as a quiz after a lecture and not what he had been steadily referring to in his mind as dates.
The cake was also gone. Crowley had really timed it in such a way that left him with almost no time to react.
Aziraphale stood up, brushing invisible crumbs from his chest. Crowley's eyes lingered on his fingers.
"Excuse me. I need to use the restroom."
He hurried to the restroom, already fishing his phone from his trousers, where he had learnt to keep it long ago. Especially after the first time he had used this particular trick and his phone had been in his coat pocket instead. Aziraphale had had to excuse himself to the toilet twice.
He was pretty sure Crowley suspected he had some nasty bladder infection. Somehow, his brain had decided this was preferable to admitting he had no idea what Crowley was talking about half the time, despite how much he loved listening to him.
A quick google of 'binary stars', a glance at Wikipedia, which was helping out so much with his possibly-romantic life that it should be named best-website at their wedding... Okay, he was going a bit too far with his daydreaming again. Then he washed his hands, because it felt slightly wrong to come out of the restroom without having done so, and headed for the table.
Crowley was smiling at him, a fresh piece of cake waiting on the table between them. Aziraphale almost kissed him, right there and then.
Instead, he sat down, scooped out a piece of the dessert and offered it to Crowley. Alongside all the information about binary stars he had managed to read in three minutes.
Crowley's favourite one was Alpha Centauri. He said that like it was supposed to mean something, with that same teasing pull of his lips as the first time they had talked.
Aziraphale liked the one named Algol, which translated to "demon star" from Arabic. A fact Crowley was happy to share, alongside the reason for its name.
Just like that, Aziraphale had bluffed himself out of another awkward situation. And as he fed the other man cake, in between astronomy facts and grumbles that Crowley had 'bought the cake for Aziraphale to enjoy', which Aziraphale decidedly assured him he was, he had to wonder.
How long exactly would he be able to keep up this farce?