Chapter Text
Anthony Crowley was a world renowned singer and guitarist. He was said to be ‘Today’s Freddie Mercury’. He was tall, and slim, with an angular face. His deep red hair curved in an upwards slope, and his face was always covered by a new pair of sunglasses. There were rumours that he had snake-like eyes. They were unconfirmed, but true. He wore stylish, dark clothes, which fit into his rockstar persona. He had a snake tattoo on the right side of his face, which sat comfortably below his hair. He was never seen without his guitar case draped over his back, covered in stickers. He was at his peak; in a popular band, signed to a record label, had adoring fans worldwide, and had talent beyond his time. However, something always seemed missing for the musician, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.
He knew that millions would kill to be like him, but sometimes it felt exhausting, like a charade that never ended. He was always surrounded by people, but often he felt alone. He would push these thoughts to the back in his head, and shift his focus to his band.
“Back home tomorrow!” His bandmate Beelzebub held up their glass of champagne. They were a second guitarist in the band.
“It’s been a good tour, shame it’s ending.” Hastur La Vista, the bass guitarist clinked his glass to Beelz’s.
“Hm, always nice to come home, though.” Ligur, their drummer chimed in.
Anthony raised his glass to join them.
The sky outside the plane window was a dark void. Anthony would often spend his flights just staring out into space, picturing the nebula reaching far beyond. He leaned over to the glass, his breath casting a fog onto it. He sighed, as he pressed his face to the cold window.
“Stargazing again?” Ligur chuckled.
Anthony tried to force a smile, too tired to develop a conversation.
Anthony loved his life, his band, and his music. He wouldn’t change a thing. But maybe, just maybe, he’d add something to it. Something that could fill the empty space.
——
Their final concert was a hit. By the end, it felt as though London was jumping so much, it might cause an earthquake.
Anthony leaned into the microphone. “Thank you London! It’s been a great night tonight, and I can’t wait for many more! I’ll see you all soon!”
He waved, blowing kisses to screaming fans, as the band headed backstage, after taking a final bow.
He sank into a soft couch, opening a bottle of water. “Well done guys! Another great tour!”
His bandmates smiled, sweating from the bright lights.
They hung around for a while, as they were congratulated by various crew members.
After they had cooled down, and had a drink, Hastur was the first to head off. “I’ll catch you guys soon, I’m gonna head home.”
The others soon followed suit.
Anthony lingered a little longer, poking his head out to gaze at the stage one last time. He wasn’t sure when they would record their next album. There was bound to be one, it was just a matter of waiting. He finally pushed open the exit doors, into the dark night, and decided to walk home, hoping he wouldn’t bump into any crazy fans.
The street was pretty quiet by now, so it seemed the coast was clear. Anthony looked up into the stars, once again, wishing he could reach out and touch the few visible ones shining through the night. He was so distracted by the sky, he walked straight into someone.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going!” It was a man, who was a bit shorter than Anthony, and chubby. He wore a tartan bow tie, and an old beige suit, that looked as though it was out of fashion by a hundred years. His face was sincere, and apologetic. He had light, fluffy hair which looked like a halo on his head.
“No worries. Sorry, my bad as well.”
“Oh! You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the National Symphony Orchestra Hall, would you?”
That was when Anthony noticed the violin strewn over his back. He had no clue how to get to the hall, but something strange had enticed him about the man, and so he said “Why yes! I do!”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tapped it into his GPS app subtly.
“Oh, wonderful! You really are a life saver!” He smiled so warmly, that Anthony felt as thought he might melt. “I’m Aziraphale!” He held out his hand, and Anthony shook it.
“Anthony.” He thought it was quite refreshing for someone not to recognise him.
Anthony followed his map, and took the long route, wanting to talk to this new person. “So… new to London then?”
“Well, not exactly. I’m new to the area, but lived in London for a while. I finally got into the National Symphony Orchestra!”
“That’s wonderful!” Anthony said with genuine sincerity.
“I see you’re a musician too.”
“Yes. Guitarist, and singer.”
“Lovely. Are you in a band?”
Anthony chuckled slightly, “Yeah. We just performed tonight at the arena.”
“Oh, the arena! That’s a big stage to fill!”
The two continued talking for a while, but Anthony decided to hold back on the fact he was a famous singer, who was known worldwide. He was more interested in Aziraphale, who seemed quite literally like a ray of sunshine. Anthony wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to him. It was strange, but it felt oddly right.
“Welp! Here we are.” Anthony said, slightly disappointed. “Bit of a strange time for rehearsals?”
“Well, we don’t actually have rehearsals. I just wanted to scope out the area.” Aziraphale chuckled a little. “We’ve been rehearsing elsewhere! We have a concert next Friday night… Y-y should come.”
Anthony was taken back by the invitation. He couldn’t remember being invited to anything outside of being famous since… high school? “I… well, okay!”
“I can send you some tickets I have.”
And with that, Anthony and Aziraphale exchanged numbers.
——
Anthony was perplexed by the night’s events. He hardly remembered the concert, and the huge crowd, now, but a certain man lingered in his thoughts. He had never really been into classical music, but he supposed everyone needed to spice things up sometimes. He awaited Aziraphale sending the tickets through eagerly, staring at his phone, refreshing his notifications. It was like watching paint dry. Finally a ping came through, and Anthony almost jumped.
‘Hi Anthony! Here are those tickets, if you’re still interested!
-Aziraphale’
Anthony held back, waiting a minute or two, not wanting to seem desperate.
‘Thanks Aziraphale. Can’t wait!’
——
Anthony had some researching to do. What did people even wear to classical concerts? He settled on a neat, dark suit, with a red tie. He had his hair washed, and combed for the first proper time in months, and looked himself up and down in the mirror.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
He was still unsure why he was so excited by the opportunity, and why he was making such an effort for Aziraphale. He hardly even knew the man. Anthony had picked out a pair of sleek sunglasses, hiding his amber eyes. He was ready to go.
Hundreds of people made their way inside the hall, and Anthony held out his ticket. The security worker had to do a double take. “Anthony Crowley?”
He nodded, and smiled weakly. The worker stared a little longer, but gestured him through.
He found his seat; a good view, near to the front, in the centre.
Soon the lights dimmed, and the orchestra made their way onstage. Anthony spied out the violins, before his eyes landed on Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s gaze darted nervously around the audience, but eventually he spotted Anthony, and his face lit up, like a kid’s on Christmas. He smiled brightly, before his face became sheepish, almost embarrassed of his excitement. Anthony smiled reassuringly, and then the orchestra took their places.
Anthony watched Aziraphale the entire time. The movement of his bow was so graceful, and the sound the ensemble made was angelic. Anthony was mesmerised by the beautiful pieces they played. He thought to himself ‘Aziraphale looks perfect,’ before catching himself, his eyes going wide at the thought. He brushed it off, and pressed no further into the matter. He immersed himself into the sound, swaying his head gently when the music got softer, and tapping his foot to the beat when it sped up and got louder. He found himself having more fun than he could ever imagine at a classical concert.
When the concert ended, he stood up and applauded loudly. Aziraphale grinned from ear to ear, making eye contact with Anthony. Eventually the crowds filed out, and Anthony wandered outside the building, waiting by the performer’s exit for Aziraphale. Multiple other people waited, beside him.
A young girl kept staring at Anthony, before her mother had to turn her away. “Sorry- wait… are you… Anthony Crowley?”
“Uh…”
Suddenly Aziraphale burst through the door, with his violin in one hand. He smiled, twirling around dramatically, and looked towards the path, almost jumping when he saw Anthony.
“Anthony! You waited!”
“Of course,” Anthony grinned.
The two walked down to the path, past the woman, who was now staring at them both. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo, without either of the musicians noticing.
“So, what’d you think?! I know classical probably isn’t your preferred genre, with your band and all, but I hope you liked it!”
“Angel, it was excellent!” Anthony blinked, realising he had called him ‘Angel’, and hurried on speaking. “It was the most incredible sound. Angelic, harmonious, and beautiful. I was so immersed, it really was wonderful!”
Aziraphale tried to ignore the fact that Anthony had called him ‘Angel’, and replied, blushing slightly. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it! And I’m so glad you came!”
“Thanks for inviting me!”
Aziraphale beamed. “Feel like some dessert?”
“Always!”
The two found a little ice cream shop which was still open, and Anthony bought Aziraphale a red icy pole, and himself a vanilla ice cream, with a chocolate flake. They sat at a little table outside of the shop.
“Mm! Thank you!”
Anthony smiled, watching Aziraphale enjoy his ice cream, trying not to stare, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from the other man.
“You know… I hadn’t been invited to anything personally since-since… high school. I-I really appreciate it.” Anthony internally cringed at his soft side, showing through what should have been his tough image.
“I can’t remember the last time anyone came to anything I invited them to, so thank you! I-I…” He paused, pondering whether he should continue. Anthony looked at him kindly, gently encouraging him, so he pressed on. “Well… I haven’t been close to my family for… a long time, and I’ve never really had many friends… so… it means a lot to me…” Aziraphale began to get a bit dewy eyed.
Anthony reached out for Aziraphale’s free hand, before he began to pull away, embarrassed. However, Aziraphale grabbed on, and held tightly.
Anthony had met this man a matter of days ago, but felt like he had known him for years. “I haven’t been close to my family for a long time either. They never supported me being a musician, or… or…” he trailed off.
Aziraphale gripped his hand tighter, and the two sat like that for a while.
A flash of light startled Anthony. “Oh, crap.”
Aziraphale looked up at Anthony, confused.
“We’d better go. Follow me!” Anthony rose, and pulled Aziraphale by his hand, behind him, as they ran off into the night.
“What is it?” Aziraphale yelled, giggling a little.
“Paparazzi!”
“Paparazzi?! For who?”
“Me…”
Aziraphale stared, waiting for answers.
“Uh… yeah, I kind of forgot to mention I’m sort of… famous… didn’t I?”
Aziraphale thought about this in silence for a moment.
“Sorry. I should’ve told you. I get it if you don’t want all that… you know, knowing me.”
Aziraphale adjusted his grip, and Anthony thought for a moment he was letting go, but when he latched back on, it was tighter than before. The two looked at each other, and Aziraphale smiled.
The paparazzi was still chasing behind, so Anthony pulled Aziraphale into a hidden lane. They ran, until they reached Anthony’s flat, having managed to lose the cameras. Aziraphale caught his breath, before he collapsed into laughter. Anthony found himself cackling beside him, and they stood, wheezing, for a while.
“Well… this is me.” Anthony gestured toward the flat.
“Right.” Aziraphale straightened up. “I, uh, I’ll see you around?” He turned, and began to walk off.
“Wait. Where are you?”
“Oh, I’m over the other side of the city, I’ll catch a cab.”
Anthony looked down at his watch. 12:17. “Don’t be silly! It’s far too late.” He tried to act nonchalant, but was sweating beneath his jacket. “You could… stay the night if you like? I have a spare bedroom…” Anthony felt embarrassed that he had offered.
“Really?” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up, like fireworks. “Would that be okay?”
“Of course!”
Aziraphale smiled, but then a cloud shadowed his face. He stopped. “Listen, I’d love to… but… I don’t think that’s the best idea tonight.”
Anthony agreed, with the paparazzi lurking, and everything, but he was unable to mask his disappointment. “Well, at least let me give you a lift home?”
Aziraphale nodded, and Anthony drove him home in his black Bentley. Aziraphale thought it would be prettier if it was yellow, letting Anthony know with a chuckle. The car ride was slightly awkward, but they got through.
——
Anthony pulled out his phone, and tried to type something multiple times, but on each occasion, he ended up just deleting it and sighing. He was worried he’d blown it with Aziraphale, and scared him off. He rolled onto his back, and stared, defeated, at the ceiling. A ping startled him, and he grabbed his phone, like a lion pouncing on prey.
‘Thanks for a great time. Love to do it again sometime?
-Aziraphale’
Anthony could have stood up and started dancing, but he didn’t, grasping onto his last traces of self control.
‘Absolutely! Any ideas?’
‘What about a picnic?’
Anthony had never really been on a picnic, but the idea excited him.
‘Can’t wait!’
After tonight’s events, it began to dawn upon him, that Anthony had feelings for Aziraphale. As hard as he tried to ignore them, they felt as though they were growing by the day. He eagerly awaited their picnic, falling asleep to the memory of the orchestra’s sounds.
——
‘Anthony Crowley’s Secret Lover?’
‘Anthony Crowley’s Hidden Romance’
‘Anthony Crowley On A Date With Mystery Man’
Word had spread about Aziraphale and Anthony’s ‘date’.
Anthony panicked, reading the headlines. His phone began to ring. He picked it up, answering, without having checked who was calling.
“Um… hi.”
“Aziraphale?”
“Yes. Um… I was just wondering if you’ve uh… checked the news?”
“Uh… no… I haven’t. What’s going on?” Anthony lied.
“Well… those photos got leaked of us. There are a lot of people saying that… um… well… that… that I’m your boyfriend.” Aziraphale laughed nervously. “I-I mean… that’s-that’s ridiculous… r-right?”
“Oh… uh… sorry. That-that seems to come with the job. I’m really sorry, are-are you okay?”
“Oh, yes, I really don’t mind. I just wasn’t sure whether you’d seen.”
“Well, um… are you still wanting to go for a picnic?” Anthony’s voice began to squeak a little nervously at the end of his question.
“Yes- I mean, if you do?” Aziraphale answered almost too quickly, resulting in Anthony grinning.
“Of course! When are you free?”
“How about Tuesday? Or-or is that too soon… I-I don’t r-really mi-”
“Perfect!”
Anthony couldn’t stop smiling, until another call came in. This time, however, he did read who was calling. Shax, his manager. His grin dropped, and he picked up the phone.
“Shax! Uh- hi…”
“Anthony, have you checked the news?”
“Uh… what’s… what’s happened?”
“Go check it, and call me back.” She hung up.
Anthony waited a few minutes, before he winced, and called Shax back.
“Yes?” she said.
“Uh, yeah… I-I… well…”
“Anthony, you do understand that bad publicity is the last thing we need right now?”
“How-how is that bad publicity exactly?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb.”
Anthony knew exactly what Shax was talking about. It was because his ‘date’ was a man. His distaste in Shax grew, more than it already was, at the outright homophobia she was showing.
“Shax… we weren’t on a date. I know what it looks like, but we’re just friends.”
“It certainly doesn’t seem like that! Hand holding, and eating ice cream?!” Shax spat. “I expect you to release a statement addressing this!”
She hung up, and Anthony scowled. He decided to stay silent on the matter. It was nobody’s business whether it was a date or not. Secretly, Anthony was quite pleased that it looked like one, letting him believe that there was a chance. He would hold onto hope, but expect the worst. After all, the chances were that Aziraphale was straight, and even if he wasn’t, there was no guarantee that he even liked Anthony like that.
——
The picnic finally arrived, after what seemed like months of waiting, and hundreds of angry phone calls from Shax. They had picked a quiet spot, hopefully out of view from the public eye. It was a lovely green park, sheltered by trees, and away from suburbia. Aziraphale’s eyes lit up when he saw Anthony, and Anthony had subconsciously began grinning sheepishly. They set up their picnic rug, and sat down, enjoying the sounds of birds chirping.
“It’s a lovely spot!” Aziraphale commented. “How’d you discover it?”
“I actually did a gig here, years back, at an old friend’s birthday.”
Aziraphale smiled. “I really must see you play sometime. Your band is very famous, isn’t it? What’s it’s name, again?”
“Hell’s Symphony.”
“Are you performing anytime soon?”
“Well, we’re actually starting writing for a new album. So, we won’t be performing for a few months, yet. I’ll… I’ll let you know, though.”
“It’s funny. We’ve known each other for no time at all, yet I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.”
They laughed and chatted the afternoon away, unaware of the setting sun.
Anthony was falling for Aziraphale, and falling hard.
——
Over the following months, Anthony and Aziraphale kept in close contact, messaging each other daily, and going on regular ‘dates’. They had become best friends, and Anthony felt he finally knew what the missing puzzle piece had been all along. Anthony’s nickname for Aziraphale had stuck. He called him ‘Angel’, more than his name now. They would go to classical concerts, dine at the Ritz, go for picnics, and run from cameras. Rumours circled constantly about the two, but no one had pieced together who the ‘Mystery Man’ was. Aziraphale was becoming more and more well known from his time in the National Symphony Orchestra, and Anthony and Hell’s Symphony were chipping away at their next album.
——
Anthony was busy writing a new song. He strummed his guitar, scribbling down words into a messy notebook. He didn’t know what took over his hand, but it turned into a love song, about Aziraphale. Something about it felt right, and he didn’t end up crossing it out, or tearing out the page. He kept it. He nurtured it. And eventually, it made it onto the album.
——
“Yeah, we’re going on tour. Our first show is in London. I’d love it if you came. I can even get you VIP tickets!”
“Really?! I’d be so thrilled! I’ve wanted to hear you for so long!”
Anthony knew his show was going to be the night he confessed. The song was his love letter.
As the night drew closer, Anthony would lie awake at night, imagining a thousand different scenarios of how it would go. In most of them, Aziraphale rejected him, left the concert, and never spoke to him again.
Anthony practised until it was as perfect as he could make it.
Finally the concert was that night.
——
‘Can’t wait for tonight!’
‘Me too!! Gotta go rehearse- see you tonight, Angel.’
Beelzebub suspected that the ‘Mystery Man’ was more than a friend, and who the song was about. Anthony blushed every time they mentioned it, and quickly changed the subject. Shax was still not impressed, and on his back constantly. When the album dropped, she called him hundreds of times to no answer for weeks. Eventually Anthony would have to call her though, and he planned on doing it after the concert.
The band warmed up, and Anthony shook out his hands and legs, imagining staring at Aziraphale as he sang.
Within a few hours, the audience filed in, and Anthony peeked out behind the curtain, just able to make out Aziraphale in a roped off VIP area. He looked adorably out of place in his beige suit, with his tartan bow tie.
When the concert began, and Anthony walked onto the stage, Aziraphale’s smile was wider than he had ever seen it before. They went straight into one of their most well known songs, and the crowd screamed, and sang along with him. Aziraphale had never heard his music, and didn’t know the words, but head banged along- though for him, that meant bobbing his head back and forth gently, but Anthony would take it.
The concert marched on, and Aziraphale looked happier than Anthony could have hoped. He hoped that stayed that way, after their final song. And eventually the time came.
“We have one final song for you all tonight, folks! This one goes out to a special someone in the crowd.” Anthony looked straight at Aziraphale and the man’s eyes went wide, not believing it was about him. “Here we go…”
“Angel with a halo,
The missing puzzle piece,
I’m falling, far below,
Where’s the ground beneath?
Catch me in your arms,
Pull me in with your charms,
Play me a song on the strings,
Wrap me in your wings.
Take me for a picnic,
Show me a card trick,
I’ll take you to the Ritz,
We can dance, just don’t call it quits.”
The song went on longer than that, but time was a blur for Anthony now. He didn’t take his eyes off Aziraphale for the entire song. Aziraphale remained expressionless, and the song faded to a finish. Anthony pressed his lips together, anxiously, watching Aziraphale’s expression. After what felt like a painfully long time, Anthony jumped off the stage, and made a bee-line past the adoring fans, and over to Aziraphale. He took his hands. Aziraphale was trembling.
They stared into each other’s souls for what felt like a never ending moment, before Anthony spoke. “Angel… I-I… I love you.”
There was dead silence, and Anthony anticipated the inevitable, horrible ending of it.
Instead, Aziraphale said. “I love you too, Anthony.”
Anthony pulled Aziraphale in, gently, and pressed his lips against his angel’s. They were soft, and warm, and time stopped. Aziraphale pulled him in closer, and he forgot about the world. He was with his world now.
Anthony and Aziraphale were entirely unaware to the crowd cheering them, and how long they were together. Eventually, Beelzebub pulled Anthony away, and he slipped away from Aziraphale’s grip.
“Thank you, London!” Beelz stepped in.
——
Anthony’s knee was bouncing anxiously, as he sat backstage.
“So… wanna tell me what that was all about?” Beelzebub wouldn’t let it slide.
“I think it’s pretty obvious, is it not?”
Beelzebub chuckled. “So where’s ‘Anthony Crowley’s Secret Lover’ now?”
Anthony’s knee bounced faster. Had… had he left?
The crowd was gone, and so was Aziraphale. Anthony pulled out his phone, and decided to text him. With a deep breath, he sent it.
‘Hey, Angel. Can we talk?’
Read 11:16
Anthony was panicking. Had their kiss just been a spur of the moment? Anthony watched his phone, waiting for no response. He was completely unaware of the footsteps approaching him, and only looked up when someone sat beside him on the green couch.
Anthony’s eyes went wide. “You’re still here.”
“Of course I am.” All of the smiles Aziraphale had ever shown to Anthony seemed microscopic, compared to this one.
“Listen,” Anthony sat up. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that, a-and in front of everyone, and that wasn’t right. I completely understand if-”
Aziraphale kissed him for a second time. Time stopped again, and it was only after Aziraphale pulled away, that Anthony realised how long they had stayed like that.
“Anthony… thank you. That song,” Aziraphale seemed as though he was about to cry. “That song was… the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, and I love it… and… and… I love you.”
Anthony pulled him in for a hug. “That night, you told me you hadn’t been in touch with your family for a long time. I told you that I hadn’t either, because they didn’t support me being a musician. But in reality, it was mostly that they didn’t support me being gay.”
“Oh, Anthony… I’m so sorry.”
“Really, it was for the best.” Suddenly Anthony remembered something. “Wait, I have to make a phone call.”
Aziraphale stood up, to give him some privacy, but Anthony tugged at his sleeve, inviting him to stay.
“Hello.”
“ANTHONY? YOU FINALLY DECIDED TO CALL? WHAT IS THAT SONG? WHAT ARE THESE NEWS STORIES ABOUT TONIGHT? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
“Shax! Yes, um I was actually calling you for a different reason… you’re sacked!”
“Wait… what?! Anthony, I’m the reason you are where you are! You can’t… YOU CAN’T JUST-”
Anthony hung up, grinning.
“Was that your manager?”
“Ex-manager. Now… I’m starving! Wanna grab a bite?”
——
‘Anthony Crowley’s Concert Romance’
‘Anthony Crowley’s Angel With A Halo In The Audience’
‘Anthony Crowley’s Secret Lover Confirmed’
‘Anthony Crowley And National Symphony Orchestra Violinist’
——
The band was booked for a press conference about their new tour, and album. Those kind of things you can’t really back out of, after it had been organised months in advance. Anthony bit his tongue, and invited Aziraphale.
“Listen, I can say whatever you want. It was just the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it, or it didn’t last, or whatever. Okay? What do you feel comfortable with?” Anthony was holding Aziraphale’s hands, turned to face him in the Bentley.
“No. Anthony, I want you to do this. I’m tired of hiding.”
Anthony smiled, excitedly. “You’re sure?”
Aziraphale looked slightly apprehensive, but nodded firmly. “Yes!”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
——
“Anthony!”
“Anthony, over here!”
“Mr Crowley!”
“Anthony Crowley!”
Anthony tried to look past the bright lights. “Uh… you, there.” Anthony squinted, pointing in a completely random direction. Even his sunglasses couldn’t completely block the blinding light out.
“Anthony, could you tell us about the man you dedicated your song ‘Angel With A Halo’ to?”
“Um, well… he’s very special to me. We uh, we met about a year and a half ago. Uh, yeah. Uh… you there.”
“Anthony, are you and this man in a relationship?”
Anthony glanced to his left, over at Aziraphale on the edge. Aziraphale nodded, and Anthony began. “Yes. We’re officially boyfriends! Can I hear a wahoo?”
Beelz laughed, and wahooed for him.
“Anthony, over here!”
“Uh, yes?”
“Who is your boyfriend?”
Anthony swallowed, but got a thumbs up from his angel. “His name is Aziraphale. He’s in the National Symphony Orchestra, and well… he’s… an angel.”
The journalists let out a little ‘awe’.
“Right. Any questions about the album, or the tour?” Anthony chuckled.
The press conference went smoothly, and finally everything was out. No more dancing around cameras, or hiding his feelings.
——
“Anthony… may I… may I take off your glasses?”
Anthony was slightly taken back by the question. “Well… um… of course.” He let out a shaky breath. His eyes had been hidden since he could remember. Since he had been teased at school. Since his parents had been ashamed.
Aziraphale reached out, hands steady. He slowly pulled them off his eyes. He drew in a breath, when their eyes properly met for the first time. Anthony squeezed his eyes shut as a reflex, but Aziraphale took his hand, and eventually he opened them again.
“My dear, they’re beautiful! Just like you.”
“You really mean it?” Anthony’s eyes were going damp.
“Yes, of course!”
Anthony pulled his angel in for a hug. No one had ever told him that.
“Can I… can I ask you something?” Anthony said. They were dining at the Ritz, enjoying the sounds of nightingales outside.
“Of course!”
Anthony cleared his throat. He lingered a moment, twitching nervously. He stood up, and then knelt down on one knee. Aziraphale gasped, his hands covering his mouth. Anthony revealed a large diamond ring, sparkling in the light.
“Aziraphale. We haven’t known each other for an awfully long time, but I feel like I’ve known you since we were kids. Since the night I met you, there was something about you… something that pulled me in. I had no clue how to get to the Orchestra Hall, but I wanted to take you anyway. Angel, I love you. And… and… I would like to spend-” Anthony cleared his throat. There were tears in his eyes, as he continued, his voice catching. “I would like to spend… the rest of my life with you…. Aziraphale… if you’ll have me, will you marry me?”
Aziraphale sat frozen for a moment, eyes welling up. Anthony started to worry. With a swift motion, Aziraphale pulled out a small box. He opened it, and inside was a diamond ring. This time Anthony covered his mouth, giggling a little.
“Yes, Anthony. Yes!” He stood up, and Anthony slid the ring onto his finger, before he slid his onto Anthony’s.
A crowd had gathered, cheering for the two, as they kissed, once again, and embraced each other.
——
Anthony had never been happier in his life. For years, he had felt that there was a puzzle piece missing, the answer to fill the gaps. Finally he had found it: his person. And Aziraphale was the happiest he had ever been too. After the tour, the two had gotten married, and settled down in a cottage. Just the team of them. The group of the two of them.