Chapter Text
"Exhausting..."
Aziraphale sighed and frustratedly threw away the red pen he had been using to correct his students' tests. He took off his glasses and placed them carelessly on the pile of red-crossed papers in front of him, then leaned back in his desk chair and massaged the bridge of his nose.
"I need to take a break..."
As he stood up, as if to confirm this, his stomach began to growl, reminding him that his dinner was a distant memory.
"Hmm yes, let's see if I still have some sweets to snack on."
He had lived alone for so long that he had gotten into the habit of talking to himself, aloud. As he once told his friend Maggie, when she gently teased him about this little habit, "At least I can be sure I'll never be contradicted."
He walked more briskly toward the kitchen, but was disappointed when he realized a few moments later that he didn't have much to eat.
Aziraphale, edgy after the day's lesson, to which had been added the obvious proof that half the class wasn't listening to him, began to rant loudly as he paced his kitchen, "What an idiot! I should have remembered to do the shopping! Now it's too late and everything's closed. Not even a little cookie to nibble on! For God's sake!
Bam bam
He paused, surprised by the sound coming from the entrance of his house, and went to the front door, wondering who it could be.
He looked through the porthole on his door and was surprised to see his new neighbor who had moved into the house next to his a few weeks ago. A neighbor whose wandering silhouette, red hair, and devastating smile Aziraphale had, of course, not noticed.
Absolutely not.
He hurried to open the door, curious to know what the man wanted.
He couldn't help but gasp when his eyes fell on the plate of pastries his neighbor was holding in his hands.
"Um... good evening, Mr. Fell. I know we haven't met. But the thing is, I'm your neighbor, Anthony, and I suppose you know that the walls between our two houses aren't very thick, and um... well, I hope you don't find me too presumptuous, but I overheard you just..."
Aziraphale, blushing slightly with embarrassment, interrupted him, "Oh, I'm sorry, I was talking too loudly, I-"
But Anthony shook his head.
"No, no, it's not that, but if I heard correctly, you were disappointed that you didn't have any sweets to eat. Well, I happen to be a pastry chef and I always take some unsold items home with me in the evening, so there you go."
He held the plate out to Aziraphale, who could not believe his eyes, ears, or good fortune.
"Oh... Oh... This is very thoughtful of you. But I'm even more sorry to have inconvenienced you."
Aziraphale took the plate of pastries and continued, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart. To show my gratitude, let me invite you to share them with me over a cup of tea."
Seeing the other man's hesitation, Aziraphale adopted the pleading puppy eyes that always made Maggie give in, and he was not disappointed when Anthony nodded.
"All right, Mr..."
"Oh no, call me Aziraphale."
Then Aziraphale showed him the way to the living room and added, "Welcome."
He let his handsome neighbor in and as he followed, he didn't know what made his mouth water more, the pastries or Anthony's swaying hips.
Bam bam bam
Someone was knocking on the door again.
Aziraphale didn't have time to react before the knocking became repetitive and louder.
Bam Bam Bam
Aziraphale awoke with a start at the noise, taking a moment to realize where he was. Blinking his eyes to adjust to the winter sunlight filtering through the window, he realized he was at his desk, where he had fallen asleep in the middle of grading papers.
Then, sitting up, he muttered, "I dreamed about him again."
Aziraphale had been pleased to see that the "For Sale" sign on the house next to his had disappeared, and even more pleased to see the neighbor fate had given him.
They had exchanged a few words and their names, nothing more, but since Anthony had moved in, Aziraphale could no longer count the nights when the man with the beautiful red hair had starred in his dreams.
Bam Bam Bam
Aziraphale realized that the noise was not part of the dream, but that someone was really knocking at the door. He went over and looked through the porthole. His heart leapt as he saw the object of his dreams and daydreams standing at his door, an adorable cap on his head, cheeks flushed with cold, and a plate of pastries in his hands.
Resisting the urge to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a dream this time, he opened the door with his most welcoming smile.
"Um, hello Aziraphale, I don't want to disturb you, but I saw that you also cleared the snow from in front of my entrance the other day, and I wanted to thank you first, with this." He handed Aziraphale the plate he was holding and continued, "I'm a pastry chef and I deliver the Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Nina told me they were your favorites."
The coffee shop was right across the street from his house, and Nina was the girlfriend of Aziraphale's best friend, Maggie. So she knew him well.
Aziraphale was speechless that his neighbor would go to such lengths to thank him and didn't know what to say, so Anthony continued, "And I also wanted to ask if I could borrow your snow shovel because it just snowed again and..."
Aziraphale, who had only been looking at Anthony since he had opened the door, looked around and realized that it had snowed quite heavily while he had been taking his nap.
But he shook his head, "Oh no, there's no need. I didn't do this for... I mean, don't feel obligated. A few more feet of snow removal was nothing and..."
But Anthony cut him off, "I insist. It would make me happy to share this task with you. Really."
Faced with the dazzling smile, Aziraphale had no choice but to comply.
"All right, I'll get the shovel."
He grabbed the plate of cake, put it on the kitchen table, and went to the closet where he kept his tools to get the shovel to bring to Crowley.
The pastry chef grabbed it and said to him with a broad smile, "I'll bring it back to you later."
Aziraphale nodded and watched as Anthony walked toward the front door of his own house, whistling. Then an icy gust of wind left him no choice but to return to the warmth of his home. Aziraphale went to boil some water and returned to his desk to grade his students' tests, a task he quickly abandoned as his thoughts turned to his neighbor, who was busy clearing the snow.
Disappointed several times by relationships that had led nowhere and had left him feeling a little empty each time, Aziraphale had finally decided that love was not for him. Until this very moment. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt something special, something new, something unknown. The possibility of something good. Something that was still invisible, but whose presence could be felt.
That something that was reflected in Anthony's eyes and smile.
Anthony could have been content to bring him any pastry to thank Aziraphale, but no, he had brought him his favorites, he had asked Nina. Which suggested that he had noticed that Aziraphale knew her. That he might have been watching Aziraphale.
Aziraphale began to hope that he might not be the only one whose thoughts often turned to his neighbor.
A small knock on the window made him look up to see Crowley, shovel in hand, waving to him, which he returned. Then Crowley called to him, "I'll be done in ten minutes."
God, he was adorable, his face flushed from the cold and still wearing his incredible smile.
Aziraphale smiled and gave him a thumbs up, and as he watched him go back to clearing the snow from the sidewalk, he got up and went to the kitchen, where he put the kettle on. Then he went to revive the fire in the fireplace, took out the tea set, which he arranged elegantly on the coffee table, and added the pastry plate. He had hardly put the kettle down when there was a knock at the door.
He tried not to rush at first, then muttered to himself, "Why pretend?!" and hurried to open the door.
Anthony handed him the shovel, "There you go, that'll do till next time."
Aziraphale took it and placed it against the wall before saying in a hurried tone, fearing that his neighbor might already be leaving, "Since we are sharing the task, why not share the thanks? How would you like to share these delicious pastries over a cup of tea?"
Aziraphale had to summon all his courage not to look away, and was rewarded when Anthony's smile widened as he replied in a clear voice, "With pleasure."
As if in a dream, Aziraphale opened the door wide and beckoned Anthony in.
"Welcome."
As he followed, Aziraphale wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, since it was so close to what he remembered from his dream. But he didn't need to, because the body he bumped into was very real.
Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed that his guest had stopped dead in the doorway to the living room.
Anthony immediately turned and grabbed Aziraphale's shoulders to stop him from tumbling.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I was startled."
Aziraphale shook his head.
"It's okay. Everything's fine. I am curious, though, what startled you?"
"The fact that our houses are reversed. It's really strange to see."
"Well, come in, give me your coat and beanie, and sit on the sofa while I bring the tea."
"Oh, I see, you're a bossy one."
"Of course, I'm a teacher."
Anthony chuckled slightly.
"Oh, I understand better. What subject do you teach?"
"Guess," Aziraphale replied before fetching the tea from the kitchen.
"Wait..."
When he returned to the living room, Anthony was sitting comfortably on the sofa, looking around and muttering, "...um books...lots of books...books everywhere..."
"I know! You're a physical education teacher!"
Aziraphale almost knocked over the kettle in shock and, looking at his neighbor, saw the mischievous smile on his lips and shook his head.
Anthony continued, "I don't think I'm wrong when I say you're a literature teacher. You certainly look like one."
"Well done. You get a gold star."
Aziraphale appreciated the simplicity of the banter between them.
He handed Anthony a cup before sitting down beside him as the other man asked him, "A gold star? Can I choose my reward?"
In addition to the mischief, Aziraphale thought he detected something else in Anthony's gaze and felt that the question was not as innocuous as it seemed.
He swallowed before answering.
"Whatever you want."
Anthony blew on his tea and looked Aziraphale in the eye over his cup, "I'll save this for later."
Then he set the cup down, picked up the pastry plate, and held it out to Aziraphale.
"Eat, they're your favorites."
Aziraphale grabbed an angel cake, bit into it with relish, and couldn't help but close his eyes as he let out a moan of pleasure at the explosion of flavors on his taste buds.
A soft chuckle made him open his eyes and he began to blush, but Anthony shook his head and said, "No, no, don't be embarrassed, it's rather nice to see someone enjoying something I made to such an extent."
Aziraphale swallowed his bite and exclaimed, "You, you have gold in your fingers. I have never eaten anything so delicious."
This time it was Anthony's cheeks that blushed at the compliment.
From then on, any awkwardness between them disappeared, and after a few minutes, both felt as if they had known each other forever. The conversation flowed easily, they moved from one topic to another with ease, accepted each other's different opinions, laughed at the same jokes, became passionate when they talked about their common interests. They were so immersed in their conversation that it was only when Aziraphale got up to turn on the light that they realized that night had fallen.
At the same time, they glanced at the wall clock.
"I'm sorry..."
They started to laugh because they had both spoken at the same time.
Aziraphale held out his hand, "You first."
Looking sheepish, Anthony said quietly, "Although I'm having a most enjoyable time, I really have to get home. Tomorrow is a big day at the bakery and I have to get up very early."
"I understand, and I was about to tell you the same thing. I still have a lot of papers to grade and I have classes all day tomorrow."
Aziraphale got up and continued, "I'll get your coat and hat."
By the time he returned, Anthony had joined him in the hallway. Aziraphale helped him put on his coat, and Anthony said to him in an amused tone, "How gallant.
Then, getting serious again, he added, "I really had a great time with you, Aziraphale."
"So did I, Anthony."
Anthony walked to the front door, which he opened, and as he was about to descend the few steps in front of the door, he turned and said, his eyes locked with Aziraphale's, "You owe me a reward."
Aziraphale's heart began to beat faster at the intensity of his neighbor's and new friend's gaze.
"Yes, it's true."
"I've decided what it is."
"Oh?"
Anthony said quietly, "Dinner."
"What?"
He hadn't heard what Anthony had just said, had he?
Or was he still dreaming?
"Dinner with you in a restaurant."
It wasn't a dream.
Aziraphale replied in a slightly shaky voice, "Okay."
Anthony exclaimed, "Great!"
Then he leaned over to Aziraphale and softly added, "Good night, Aziraphale," before planting a light kiss on Aziraphale's cheek.
Aziraphale, stunned, watched Anthony go home in a daze.
As his neighbor entered his own house, Aziraphale couldn't resist the urge to touch the cheek where Anthony had pressed his lips, then whisper, "It really wasn't a dream."
He finally lowered his hand and went into his house, where the two abandoned cups on the table and the empty plate reminded him once again that everything was real and a thousand times better than his dream.