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Christmas was two weeks away, but Aziraphale's decorations were still in the box, and the Christmas tree stood bare in the middle of the bookshop. This was very unusual behaviour for Aziraphale, usually his shop was at this time of the year lit up with Christmas lights, and the whole shop would radiate love and warmth to every passerby outside.
This year, however things were different. Not for humans, they had continued their lives the same way they usually did, despite the Armageddon't that had been barely avoided. No, things were different for Aziraphale. Never before he had been bothered by spending Christmas alone, but after he and Crowley had gained freedom from their head offices, they had spent almost every day together doing whatever they pleased. Aziraphale had gotten used to the demon's continuous presence in the bookshop. Now everything was too quiet for Aziraphale, and he barely dared to breathe.
Crowley had left few days earlier to Scotland, said that he had some “unfinished business” up there, and that he would be back after a while. Aziraphale assumed Crowley had escaped the awkward Sorry-angel-but-I-don't-want-to-celebrate-Christmas-with-you-even-though-now-we're-free-to-do-what-we-want-without-anyone-smiting-us talk.
It was alright, supposed Aziraphale and sunk deeper in his armchair. There was no reason to pressure Crowley to do anything he didn't actually want. All Aziraphale hoped was that the demon was planning to get back before the loneliness overcame him.
Aziraphale's unopened decoration box stared at him accusatory, and the Christmas tree next to it looked like it lost its colour as every minute went by. Aziraphale sighed heavily, and with a snap of his fingers he sent the box out of his sight somewhere else in the bookshop.
***
Aziraphale felt his demonic presence before the bell over the door rang and Crowley, followed by late evening's cold air, slithered inside the bookshop.
“Hell-o, angel”, the demon said cheerfully. He stopped abruptly, and his smile changed to concern. “I was away for only two weeks and here you are covered in dust. Have you moved at all since I left?”
Aziraphale blinked and looked at himself. A thin layer of dust had gathered on top of his clothes, making them look like they were darker than they actually were.
“Ah…” He said intelligently. His voice cracked for not being used in a while. “Apparently I sat here longer than I was supposed to.”
Crowley stared at him quietly. He snapped his fingers and the dust disappeared, then he half-threw a bag of pastries on the table, and sprawled on the sofa opposite of him. “If I had known the state I'd find you in, I would've brought you more.”
“Thank you, dearest. They look absolutely scrumptious.”
Crowley grunted an affirmative reply, and kept his uncovered eyes on Aziraphale when the angel took a bite of the pastry, and hummed in satisfaction.
“How was Scotland?” Aziraphale asked.
“It was alright. Cold and boring.”
“And did you accomplish everything you were supposed to?”
”Eughh. Mostly, yeah. Got a new plant too.”
They fell into a heavy silence. Crowley didn't want to tell more about his trip and that was completely fine, Aziraphale thought miserably. Of course they didn't need to tell each other everything.
“You haven't decorated yet”, Crowley said so suddenly it shook Aziraphale out of his thoughts. “Y'know Christmas is tomorrow?”
“Ah, how funny, it must have slipped my mind”, Aziraphale said, trying to pursue Crowley's effortless coolness while saying it. Judging by the demon's expression he failed. “You're not celebrating this year, I presume?”
“Me? Uhh, nah. ‘S a human festival after all.”
“Quite right.” All the hopes of celebrating with Crowley flew out of the window, and Aziraphale's shoulders slumped.
“But you always celebrate Christmas, angel”, Crowley insisted. “You start preparing for it in June! What has changed?”
“Maybe I just simply don’t like celebrating it anymore. You don't know everything about me.”
Crowley looked at him pointedly, and Aziraphale squirmed in his seat. Why did it always feel like Crowley was seeing right through him, his gaze sharp even through the dark lenses.
“Well,” started Crowley. His tone was careful. “I could. Y'know. Help you with decorations and such.”
Aziraphale straightened his back. “Would you really?”
“Ngk, yea, that’s why I asked.”
Aziraphale beamed. “I have my ornaments somewhere here, I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail, dearest! Don't go anywhere!”
“Wouldn't even dream of it, angel.”
It took a while before Aziraphale found the box again, which his miracle had tucked under the unused bed upstairs. Crowley kept himself entertained and used the time to cause little mischief on Twitter.
Crowley stopped scrolling on his phone as Aziraphale lowered the full cardboard box gingerly on the table beside the tree. The angel opened the lid but after seeing the inside, his face turned pale, and he hurriedly closed the lid. He had somehow forgotten what he exactly used as ornaments. “Oh dear.”
“Wot?”
“Nothing! Ah, this must be the wrong box. Let me take care of this and–”
“Not so fast, angel. It says Christmas decorations on the side. You're hiding something from me, I can feel it.”
Crowley was next to him in a few steps with his long legs. Before Aziraphale had a chance to do anything at all, the demon had already taken the box and was outside of his reach.
Aziraphale hoped that the Earth would kindly swallow him when Crowley opened the lid, and looked extremely puzzled. He put the box down on the sofa to get a better look at the things inside it.
The demon took two ornaments out of the box, held them like they were the most valuable things in the world. He turned to show the items to Aziraphale, as though the angel didn't know what they were. “I recognize these. But why would you…”
He was talking about two transparent ornaments, which were full of dried flowers Crowley had gifted to Aziraphale over the years. Majority of them were very recent, (Crowley had started bringing him flowers weekly after the world hadn't ended) but the one Crowley was holding was from the bouquet he had given Aziraphale on the day he had opened the bookshop.
Crowley was awfully quiet while he examined the flowers, and Aziraphale was growing restless. He didn't dare to speak out loud and scare Crowley away, but he had to say something before he would be the one running out of the door.
“They were so beautiful, and I thought to myself, why would I throw them away since they were a gift from you. I made a tiny miracle to help the poor dears to stay alive longer, but then I wanted to have them somewhere I can admire them. I didn't want you to know–”
“Angel. 'S okay.”, Crowley said gently, and held one of the ornaments to him. “Help me put these to the tree.”
Aziraphale nodded relieved. Together they decorated the tree with all the ornaments Aziraphale had. Sometimes Crowley stopped to stare at Aziraphale with a thoughtful expression, and the angel pretended he didn't see anything.
When they were ready, they admired the tree with velvet ribbon, candles and Crowley's flower ornaments all around it.
“I thought you just threw the flowers away”, Crolwey said quietly. “I still kept bringing them to you cause… ngk.”
“Why would I throw them away, my dear? You bought them for me.”
“Actually, I, uh. Didn't buy them from anywhere.”
“You stole them?” Aziraphale asked, scandalized.
“What? No! I grew them myself, you idiot.”
“You did? Oh, Crowley, no wonder they were always extraordinarily beautiful. And always in a perfect condition, no less! I didn't know you grew flowers, dearest.”
“Well, it's not a very demonic hobby, is it?” Crowley humphed.
“No, but we’re retired, remember? No more sides, only us.” Aziraphale bravely took Crowley's hand, and used it to get the demon to face him. “I just want to thank you for being here. I know you don't don't care about celebrating Christmas. Still you decided to come here. I'm very grateful to have you.”
“‘S nothing, really. I wasn't sure if you even wanted me to be here around this time.”
“There's no one else I'd rather want to be with, dear. But I do hope you're aware that you won't be held accountable, if you sometime in the future want to get away from me again. There's no reason to come up with a trip to Scotland, you can just tell me the truth.”
Crowley looked genuinely confused. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“I assumed your trip to was an excuse to get away from me for a bit.”
“No. No, of course not, angel. I went there to get your bloody Christmas gift. You have no idea what kind of horrors I had to go through in the middle of the snow.”
“Oh. Oh! I have a gift for you, too! If I had known the reason you left, I would've come along to accompany you.”
“It defeats the idea of a gift, does it?” Crowley asked fondly.
“Not for me. Besides, spending time with you is the greatest gift of them all.”
Crowley mumbled something unclear under his breath that sounded like, “I enjoy being with you too.”
“Sorry, what was that?” Aziraphale asked smugly.
“I hate you, and I'm going to force you to watch a Christmas movie I know you'll hate.”
“Of course you do, darling. Shall I open the wine?”
They spent the next few hours watching a movie about a little boy, whose parents accidentally left him alone at home while the rest of the family went on a holiday. Aziraphale used half of the movie critizing the plot ('How none of the siblings noticed their brother was missing?'), and Crowley found it extremely amusing.
When the movie ended, Crowley announced he was going to get Aziraphale's present from the Bentley. Aziraphale wrapped his own gift (he had made it a few months prior with intention to give it to Crowley around December to make it a Christmas but-not-quite present) with a quick miracle before the demon came back inside.
Crowley wanted to give his gift first, and he waited quietly while Aziraphale unwrapped the paper. Inside was a first edition the angel had tried to track down for months. Aziraphale showed his overflowing gratitude with kind words, making the demon blush.
In return Aziraphale gifted Crowley a knitted scarf. “You’re always trembling with cold during the winter”, the angel reasoned. “I hope this shade of red isn't too much against your aesthetic.”
(It wasn't, and Crowley used it everyday the following months.)
They heard a strange rustle above their heads. They turned to look just in time to see how a beautiful mistletoe grew over them.
Crowley grimaced. “Sorry, angel. I think I got carried away.”
Aziraphale leaned forward and gave Crowley a quick kiss on the lips before backing away again. The demon gasped quietly, his eyes wide and a loopy grin on his face.
The second time neither of them was sure, which one of them leaned in the kiss first. It didn't matter in the end, though. Aziraphale couldn't stop smiling against Crowley's mouth and soon enough they were both giggling against each other.
Aziraphale and Crowley didn't hear it, but right outside the bookshop window, was a nightingale singing its quiet hymn into the cold London night.