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Crowley was proud of his garden and the glasshouse he had recently built. It was especially handy now that autumn had arrived. He didn't even need his miracles to keep the flowers in perfect condition. This included the flowers that shouldn't be blooming at this time of year. Crowley wanted to believe that he had green fingers and that his threats were very convincing. However, he was certain that Aziraphale had been sneaking into the glasshouse behind his back, whispering nice things into his plants' non-existent ears. Past Crowley would have been angry about it, or at least he would have pretended to be, but he was a changed man now. Or rather, a demon. Besides, the “Bad Cop/Good Cop” technique seemed to be working on his flowers. It may have even worked better than his previous method of yelling at his plants, but he would be the last person to admit that.
Taking care of his growing collection of flowers was very soothing, but it also gave Crowley a lot of time to think about the silliest things. Some of them made him blush, while others drove him crazy. Sometimes his thoughts did both those things at once.
“Here you are,” said Aziraphale softly, as he entered the glasshouse.
“Where else would I be?” asked Crowley, but he stopped watering the flowers to kiss his angel on the cheek.
He would have loved to kiss him on the lips, but that could lead to some of the things he'd been intensely thinking about lately, and his glasshouse wasn't the best place to have sex in. It was for his and Aziraphale's sake, as well as for the flowers'. They'd had sex outside a couple of times before, but it was always deep in the forest, far from his plants and gardening equipment. Crowley wasn't ready to risk any of them.
“Anywhere,” replied Aziraphale vaguely. “I like to think I'm not a possessive and overbearing partner, my dear.”
Crowley hummed pleasantly. “I don't mind a little bit of possessiveness,” he admitted.
Aziraphale chuckled. “Of course not. You're a fiend.”
“And you love me that way. What does that say about you?” Crowley asked him teasingly.
Aziraphale pinched him playfully. The cheeky bastard. Crowley loved that about him too.
“Anyway. I got a phone call from the bakery in town. They have a fresh batch of Red Velvet Angel Food Cake and can keep it aside for us...”
For you, thought Crowley, but didn't point it out out loud. He loved angel cake, albeit of a different kind.
“... if I get there by noon,” Aziraphale continued, completely unaware of Crowley's train of thought. “I just wanted to ask if I could take your car.”
“I thought it was our car,” Crowley reminded him.
“Yes, but it's technically yours, so I thought it'd be nice to ask you.” Aziraphale smiled sweetly at him. The bastard knew how to play him and Crowley didn't even mind it.
He considered it for a second. “I can take you to the town myself,” he decided.
“My dear, there's no need,” Aziraphale assured him. “I can take care of the Bentley.”
“She needs a proper ride, angel, not your under the speed limit driving nonsense,” Crowley told him. “I've been neglecting her lately.”
Aziraphale bit his lower lip. “I suppose you have,” he agreed. “Lately, you've been riding me exclusively.” He said it with such a smug face that Crowley couldn't help but gasp.
“Angel!”
“But it's true!”
“I barely recognise the angel I knew,” said Crowley and pulled him into a quick kiss. Aziraphale had been asking for it, not with those exact words, but with innuendo. “Anyway, I'll drive you to town, angel,” he said, breaking the kiss. “We need to remind these people that you're taken.”
“It only happened once!” Aziraphale pouted. “And I explained to that gentleman that I have a partner.”
“After you brought him here and he started touching you,” Crowley reminded him.
“He wanted to see my collection of Jane Austen's first editions! And I met him at a local bookshop. How was I supposed to know?” he asked.
“Most humans would know that coming over to see Jane Austen was an excuse,” said Crowley. “We've been through this.”
“And I told you I'm not most humans. I'm not a human at all.” He sighed. “Besides, you successfully scared off the poor chap.”
“Oh... he deserved it.”
“He was only seeking love,” Aziraphale said softly. “I can't blame him for that.”
“He wanted a quick shag with a stranger he'd just met,” Crowley told him. “I'm a retired demon. I could smell it on his skin. Trust me.”
Aziraphale sighed. “I won't change your mind about coming to town, will I?” he asked.
“Nope.” Crowley took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I trust you, angel, I do, but I don't trust the lustful men in town.”
“There was only one lustful man.”
“There are more,” Crowley assured him. “That's why you need me. You're too good to see right through them. Your heart is too pure.”
“Not that pure. Not any more.” Aziraphale gave him a meaningful look.
“I'm doing my best to fix that,” Crowley joked with a wink. “Shall we go? The Red Velvet Angel Food Cake won't be waiting for you forever.”
“Only until noon,” murmured Aziraphale. “Let's go!”
Crowley knew the address of that bakery very well. He sometimes went there to buy something sweet for Aziraphale, but recently he'd been neglecting that task because of his flowers. That needed to change.
“Mr Fell!” The woman behind the counter greeted him with a beaming smile. “It's so good to see you.”
“You too, Veronica,” said Aziraphale politely. Crowley remained silent.
“I've got your cake in the backroom, Mr Fell. I'll bring it at once!” Then she disappeared behind the door.
Aziraphale used that time to look around, checking if there was anything else he wanted to buy. His gaze fell on something that made him let out a quiet but intriguing sound. That caught Crowley's attention, so he moved closer to see for himself.
It was a wedding cake. And it was waiting for someone. The names of the happy couple were written on the sides of the cake, and on top there were two figurines of the groom and the bride. Aziraphale must have known that he couldn't purchase that cake, yet it drew his attention and he couldn't seem to look away.
Veronica returned to the main room carrying their cake. But Aziraphale didn't even look at her.
“They should have picked up this cake two hours ago, but they've been riding around town looking for the right flowers,” she said, noticing what Aziraphale was staring at.
He raised his gaze to look at her and asked, “How so?”
“Poor Lilly. She wanted a bouquet of lilies for her wedding. They were her late mother's favourite flowers. That woman even named her only daughter after them. And Lilly wanted to carry them on her wedding day to honour her mother's memory. But the wedding planner ordered the wrong flowers by mistake.”
“That's so unfortunate,” said Aziraphale.
“Exactly. Lilly almost called off the wedding, saying that it was a bad omen.” Veronica sighed. “Tom, the groom, and his friends are trying to find a replacement, but it seems that no flower shop in the area has lilies.”
Then Aziraphale looked at Crowley with a slight frown. “Don't you have some lilies in your glasshouse?” he asked.
Crowley did have several species of lilies in his collection, but he always thought that if he were to give them to someone, it would be Aziraphale.
“I don't run a flower shop, angel,” he muttered through his teeth.
Aziraphale gave him a pleading look. “You could make an exception,” he said sweetly. “For me.”
Crowley couldn't deny him that. Aziraphale had him wrapped around his finger and Crowley couldn't even find it in himself to be annoyed by it.
“Fine,” he agreed.
Aziraphale clapped his hands and beamed at him. “Splendid!” he said and turned his attention back to Veronica. “Could you inform the bride and the groom that they'll have their flowers?” he asked. “We just need the address of the wedding venue and the time of the ceremony to deliver them.”
“Of course, Mr Fell!” The young woman said with unconcealed surprise. “I'll call them right away. They're friends of mine, and I'm going to their wedding. That's why I'm closing the bakery early today.”
“That's just lovely!”
“You're an angel!” she added with a laugh.
“Isn't he just?” murmured Crowley with unhidden amusement.
“Not at all!” Aziraphale denied. “They're Crowley's flowers after all.”
“Lilly and Tom will be most grateful, Mr Crowley.”
“Just Crowley,” he corrected her.
“Just give me a second and I'll call them,” said Veronica and disappeared into the backroom again.
Aziraphale took his hand and looked into his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Don't mention it,” Crowley grunted dismissively. He didn't want Aziraphale to start calling him nice, especially in public.
“I'll make it worth the trouble later at home,” he added quietly, making Crowley blush furiously.
In the meantime, Veronica returned to them.
“You both are life saviours,” she said. “Tom told me he can go to your place to get the flowers. He doesn't want you to trouble yourselves with delivery.”
“Nonsense,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Today's his wedding day and he's been stressed for far too long. Tom should relax and get ready for the wedding. We can deliver the flowers on time.”
Veronica looked moved. “Alright, Mr Fell.”
“Please call me Aziraphale,” he told her.
She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said and wrote something on a piece of paper. “Here's the address of the venue, Aziraphale. The wedding starts at four.”
Aziraphale looked pleased. “We'll be there by four,” he promised. “Let's go back home, Crowley. We must make the most beautiful bouquet out of your flowers!”
They were about to leave when Veronica called after them. “Your cake!” she reminded them.
“Right!” Aziraphale chuckled. “I completely forgot about the cake.”
He pulled out his wallet but Veronica stopped him. “It's on the house,” she told him.
“But my dear girl! There's no need,” he assured her.
The young woman shook her head. “You're saving my friends' wedding day. That's the least I can do for you,” she said strongly.
“It'd be rude to refuse, angel,” Crowley murmured to him.
“Your husband has a point,” Veronica agreed.
Crowley's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't the first time someone had assumed that he and Aziraphale were married, but it had the same freezing effect on him every time. He tried not to think about the real reason behind it. That made him feel too vulnerable.
“We're not married,” Aziraphale clarified quietly, suddenly avoiding Crowley’s gaze.
“Oh.” She looked genuinely surprised. “I could have sworn Agnes mentioned you two were married,” she said.
That piece of information made Crowley's eyes pop out of his head. “We're not,” he said quickly and grabbed the cake box. “Thanks for the cake.”
“Is this a touchy subject?” Veronica asked Aziraphale, as Crowley walked away. He wished he knew the answer to that question too, but Aziraphale only smiled and wished Veronica a nice day.
They remained silent on the drive back to their cottage. Even the Bentley didn't dare to play Queen's greatest hits. It was a strange kind of silence, the one that made Crowley feel silly. He and Aziraphale loved each other and were very open about it. Yet there were certain aspects of their relationship that still felt like a taboo. That was ridiculous.
“We need to make it the most beautiful bouquet in the history of bouquets,” Aziraphale said decisively when they finally arrived home.
“That might be a little exaggeration,” Crowley tried to reason with him. “My flowers look good, but they're far from perfect. Besides, I have zero experience and skill in composing bouquets.”
“Nonsense! It can't be that hard,” muttered Aziraphale. He was an incorrigible optimist, but Crowley loved him that way.
“Be my guest,” said Crowley as they entered the glasshouse.
“But, my dear! You're going to help me!” He said with a laugh, grabbing his hand and pulling him further inside.
Making a bouquet shouldn't have been as much fun as it was, but Crowley thoroughly enjoyed the task. And the discussion about flowers and compositions brought a spark back to Aziraphale's eyes. Crowley made a mental note to surprise him with a bouquet of flowers from time to time. He had a feeling that Aziraphale might appreciate the gesture.
The end result of their work was much better than Crowley initially expected.
“I told you we could do this,” said Aziraphale enthusiastically.
“You did, angel.”
“And we still have time to change our clothes. We can't possibly show up like this. That would be disrespectful to the happy couple,” Aziraphale pointed out. “Let's go!”
Crowley obediently followed him to the cottage and didn't mention that Lilly and Tom would be thrilled to get a bouquet of right flowers, regardless of the state of their clothes. After all, they were merely the deliverers. They weren't going to stay for the ceremony.
Aziraphale made them dress appropriately for the occasion anyway. Crowley didn't mind it. He liked to dress up for Aziraphale alone, and he thought his angel was attractive in any attire, even in a sack of potatoes or his magician's costume, but preferably naked.
“Stop staring at me,” Aziraphale told him playfully. “We should go now or we'll ruin the happy couple's wedding day.”
“It's not my fault you're distracting,” murmured Crowley with a wink. He was glad that the previous awkwardness was over, at least for now.
This time the Bentley was playing Queen's “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy,” which was very fitting, but Crowley didn't expect to hear Aziraphale humming the song.
“What?” the angel asked sheepishly. “It's nice. For a modern song,” he added.
“It's not a modern song. Not in the slightest,” replied Crowley, but beamed at him. “You're one of the kind, Aziraphale.”
The angel seemed pleased with his remark.
They reached the venue twenty minutes before the ceremony. Crowley was glad it wasn't a church. Otherwise, he would draw too much attention to himself by hopping around. He may have helped to save the world twice, but the consecrated ground still burnt him. Some things would never change.
Veronica was waiting for them outside and greeted them with a huge smile. “Oh, Lilly is going to love these flowers,” she said.
“Crowley is an incredible gardener, my dear” Aziraphale told her. “You can give them to the bride and wish her a happy marriage on our behalf.”
“You can tell her that yourself,” she told him quickly. “You're coming with me, gentlemen.”
Aziraphale hesitated. “We don't want to trouble anyone,” he muttered.
“Nonsense! You're invited to the wedding and reception,” said Veronica, pleased with herself. “That's an order from the bride herself.”
Aziraphale looked apologetically at Crowley. “If that's the case, I suppose we could stay for an hour or so,” he said uncertainly.
“That's alright, angel,” muttered Crowley as they followed Veronica into the venue. Then he added in a much quieter voice, so only Aziraphale could hear him, “At least it's not a church.”
Aziraphale chuckled. “That would be quite a sight,” he whispered back.
“Exactly.”
Veronica led them to the place where the bride was getting ready. Lilly was a petite young woman with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree the moment she spotted them.
“They are absolutely gorgeous,” she squealed. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
Lilly looked as if she was about to kiss Aziraphale with joy, but Crowley immediately stepped in. “I'm sorry, but he's taken,” he said only half-jokingly.
The bride giggled. “So I've heard,” she said. “You must be Mr Crowley, then.”
“Just Crowley,” he corrected her.
“You gave Tom's cousin a real scare.”
“Oh?” Crowley was a little confused.
“Derek,” she clarified.
“Oh...” That was the name of the bastard Aziraphale had met at the local bookshop and who had thought he could seduce his angel. “Is he here by any chance?” Crowley asked in the most innocent tone he could muster.
Aziraphale looked horrified by his question.
“He is, but please, don't chase him away,” Lilly asked him. “He is my soon-to-be husband's cousin.”
“I'll try to behave,” he promised, emphasising the word try.
“I'll see to it,” Aziraphale assured Lilly. “He only looks scary. He's as docile as a lamb if you know how to handle him.”
That was a lie. At most it only worked with Aziraphale around.
“Angel, I have an image to uphold,” he murmured.
“Of course,” muttered Aziraphale.
“The ceremony starts in ten!” someone announced.
“We should probably go...” started Crowley.
“Go take your seats,” Lilly reminded them. “I expect to see you at the reception too.”
They couldn't argue with the bride, especially on her wedding day, so they joined the other guests and found some empty seats.
The ceremony didn't last very long, which Crowley appreciated, but it was quite lovely. His flowers looked really good in the bouquet they had arranged, but his gaze kept drifting back to Aziraphale. The angel watched the ceremony with delight written all over his face, and he shed a tear of joy during the vows, but there was also another emotion hidden behind that smile. Crowley wasn't certain, but it looked a bit like jealousy or regret. Deep down, he felt it too. He had tried to convince himself that the entities like them didn't need it, but that didn't change the truth that they wanted it. Crowley wanted to call Aziraphale his husband and had a feeling that the angel reciprocated the sentiment.
He knew what he had to do. He had to propose to Aziraphale, and he had to do it soon. Heaven and Hell were no longer a threat. He and Aziraphale could do this. They could have it. They could become whatever they wanted.
Crowley formed a plan in his head. He hoped Aziraphale would appreciate it.
They stayed at the reception for much longer than an hour. Crowley couldn't deny Aziraphale the pleasure of tasting the wedding cake. Besides, he had a plan and the given circumstances could come in handy.
Crowley spotted Agnes among the guests, but she only waved at them and didn't come over to say hello. He wondered if she knew what he was up to. It was a possibility, although Veronica had mentioned that Agnes claimed they were already married. The witch was hard to follow or figure out. She had once told them that the past, present and future were all blending together in her head, so perhaps Agnes herself wasn't sure what the current status of his relationship with Aziraphale was.
They sipped on wine, which Crowley needed for courage, while the people around them were dancing to some upbeat songs. The one playing at the moment wasn't entirely horrible, but Crowley was waiting for something slower, something Aziraphale would enjoy too. And finally, it arrived. “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” started playing.
It was their song. He knew this was the best chance he would get that evening.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand to Aziraphale.
The angel smiled brightly at him and took his hand. “If you insist,” he said shyly.
Crowley led him to a less crowded part of the dance floor. The couples around them began dancing at a slower pace, while those without romantic partners returned to their tables. Crowley took Aziraphale into his arms and started swaying with him, hopefully to the rhythm. Ultimately it didn't really matter. He enjoyed the feel of Aziraphale's body pressed against his. Their position was perfect. Crowley rested his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder and began whispering the things he'd planned to say right into his ear.
“I watched your face at the ceremony,” he murmured.
“Oh?”
Crowley couldn't see his face now, but he was sure that the angel was as surprised as he was curious.
“I couldn't take my eyes off you, angel. You were the most beautiful creature in the room. You always are,” he continued.
“Stop it,” muttered Aziraphale. Crowley was certain his lover was blushing madly right now. He could hear it in the way he spoke.
“That's the truth, angel. You would make a dashing groom.”
Aziraphale gasped at these words.
“But I noticed something else too,” Crowley continued. “You enjoyed what you were witnessing, but in a way that made me think you'd like to have it too.”
“Have what?” Aziraphale asked in a weak voice.
“The wedding. The vows...”
“Crowley...”
“You can have them,” said Crowley, pulling away a bit to look into his eyes. “I want them too, angel.”
Aziraphale's eyes were hopeful, but also worried. “Is it because of Agnes's predictions?” he asked.
That was what Aziraphale had been worrying about throughout the entire wedding. Crowley’s heart ached for him. “No,” he said quickly. “Never. I want to call you my husband and I believe you want the same.” He kept his voice quiet so no one else could hear him over the song that was just ending.
Aziraphale looked at him expectantly. “Are you proposing?” he asked.
“I am,” Crowley confirmed.
“Then yes,” answered Aziraphale and pulled him into a happy kiss.
No one noticed that two strange gentlemen had just got engaged. No one except Agnes, who winked at them when they were leaving the reception in a hurry a few minutes later. Crowley couldn't even care about it at the moment. Or ever. He was too happy that Aziraphale had accepted his proposal.
They barely made it past the threshold of their cottage when Aziraphale pinned him against the door and began to undress him.
“I can't believe you proposed to me at someone else's wedding,” he mumbled accusingly between kisses.
“No one noticed, angel,” said Crowley in his own defence.
“Agnes did,” Aziraphale pointed out.
“Yeah... but she was cheating with her abilities. She had a heads-up!”
Aziraphale sighed. “You're lucky I love you so much,” he said and grabbed his hand to take him to their bed. But sleeping was the last thing on his mind.
The next morning, Crowley woke up early and sneaked into his glasshouse to make an enormous bouquet for his fiancé. He put a lot of effort into making it more beautiful than Lily's bouquet, and he thought he succeeded. At the very least, he put as much effort into the task as Aziraphale had put inside him last night.
None of them complained.