Work Text:
“Mr Fell, please,” the dentist’s assistant called out.
Aziraphale put his book away and got up from his chair with a friendly smile for the young person. They must be new. He hadn’t seen them before, in any case, and this had been ‘his’ dentist’s office forever.
“Room 3, please. Dr Crowley will be with you shortly.” They indicated the correct door, but Aziraphale was already on his way.
The room looked like it always did. White and metal-coloured furnishings, floorboards in a lovely, warm brown and sunny yellow walls. And there was the painting of the snake among the sunflowers that always awaited him here. Dr Crowley had a thing for snakes, and not just several serpent-themed tattoos, but also a pet snake at home. The man liked to talk while he was working.
“Ah, Mr Fell. How are you this fine day?” came the familiar rumbly voice from the door. Aziraphale turned in time to see that gorgeous smile amidst a sea of freckles, topped off by stunning, almost honey-coloured eyes. It always made his heart beat faster.
Right behind the man was the young assistant, who immediately went to the computer to call up the correct file.
“Quite well, thank you. And yourself?” They didn’t shake hands, of course. But Aziraphale knew those long-fingered hands quite well.
When Dr Brown had first mentioned that he’d soon be getting reinforcements in the form of another dentist and hoped to retire soon, Aziraphale had not been happy. He’d never liked change.
But then he met Dr Anthony J. Crowley. The man was not just nice to look at, he was also quite entertaining, with a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humour.
Dr Brown had gone into retirement eleven years ago. Aziraphale was slightly ashamed to admit that he hadn’t missed the man since.
“Always fabulous, when I see you in my offices, Mr Fell,” Dr Crowley winked and indicated the dentist’s chair. “Make yourself at home.”
The assistant looked up with a surprised frown.
Dr Crowley was a terrible flirt. But only with Aziraphale from what he could tell. Aziraphale had always liked that. It made him feel special.
“So what will it be today?” Dr Crowley asked when Aziraphale sat as comfortably as he could.
“Just a routine check-up,” Aziraphale answered, “you know how diligent I am about my dental health.”
“A right angel of dental hygiene, is what you are,” Dr Crowley smirked.
Aziraphale blushed and the assistant’s frown deepened as they got everything ready and prepared Aziraphale.
The check-up didn’t take long and the time flew right by with the constant, charming chatter Dr Crowley kept up about his pet snake Bentley. “I almost lost her in the garden the other day. My neighbour Mr Shadwell’s no fan of her, but his partner, Tracey, managed to rescue her before Old Shadwell could find Bentley in his sunflowers. Again.” He nodded towards the painting. “But then you already knew that.”
Aziraphale smiled inwardly. He had painted that for Dr Crowley’s ten-year anniversary.
“Mx Scrivener, help him rinse, please.” Dr Crowley wheeled his chair to the computer and filled out a few things on it while Aziraphale finished rinsing. “As usual, everything is in tip-top shape, Mr Fell. Nothing to do for me here. If all of my patients were like you, I’d be bankrupt.”
With a happy smile, Aziraphale stood up. “Well then, I’m glad your other patients have more work for you. We’d hate to lose you here.”
“Wait one moment before you go,” Dr Crowley said, rummaging around in his coat. Then he stood, turned around and presented a white rose with a flourish. “For you.”
The assistant gasped in shock, “Aren’t you married, Dr Crowley?”
Aziraphale accepted the flower with a beaming smile. “He is,” he said, and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on Crowley’s lips, “to me.”
“Happy anniversary, angel,” Crowley whispered against his mouth. “The French restaurant at 7 pm?”
“Of course, my darling.”
