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In the end, Crowley ended up just getting him one.
It wasn’t too complicated, the sales woman told him, just the basics, even your grandpa could figure it out.
Crowley wasn’t so sure.
But now that they were on their own side and spending considerably less time in their own spaces, it was time for Aziraphale to get a mobile.
Crowley had been bugging the angel about this since the first one came out.
“I don’t have a car, my dear, why would I need a phone to plug into it?”
He ignored Crowley’s suggestion of getting his own car too.
But as the decades rolled on, they were only becoming more useful. You could read books on them now, Crowley kept telling him.
Aziraphale was not impressed.
“I like looking for books,” he had said. “I enjoy it.” As if that was the end of the conversation.
It had been a month since the end of the world didn’t happen, and Crowley felt like there was no reason for him to not give the angel everything in the world anymore, so he started with a mobile.
He even set it up for him. Downloaded apps he thought the angel would like, put his number on speed dial, and set his ringtone to Vivaldi (though he briefly toyed with the idea of setting it as The Sound of Music).
Now all he had to do was frame it in a way that the angel would go for. The book angle hadn’t worked in the past, but maybe if Crowley showed him. And texting was kind of like sending letters, hadn’t Aziraphale mentioned how romantic letters used to be?
He heard his door open and a muffled greeting. Crowley sighed in despair; this was never going to work.
“There you are my dear,” Aziraphale knocked on the open office door to announce his presence. “I brought home some Italian from that place you like on Archer street. They don’t usually do take out, but they kindly made an exception.” He was in a good mood, almost smug. Maybe the demon could use this to his advantage.
“Hullo angel,” Crowley stood and crossed to the doorway, giving Aziraphale a light kiss, “sounds perfect, lets eat.” The demon let his hand slide down the angels back before breaking away,
Physical affection still flustered Aziraphale, but in the best way. Crowley loved holding the angels hand in his or restoring an errant curl to its correct placement, only to watch Aziraphale blush before beaming unreservedly at the demon.
Finally, his heart would soar triumphantly.
They headed to the dining area where Aziraphale had already set up the meal. It was as if he had brought the entire restaurant experience back with him instead of just the food.
A cream table cloth covered Crowley’s table and a pair of tapered candles sat lit in the center. The food was still hot as they sat in their respective seats.
“Risotto, angel?” the demon tried not to laugh, this was Aziraphale’s favorite dish. He glanced over at the other plate, he was only slightly surprised to see it staring back at him.
“I ordered a new dish and I wasn’t sure that I would enjoy it so I got you that in case I wanted to switch.” The angel refused to look guilty.
“You just bought yourself a full-on fish then?” Crowley had completely forgotten the mobile and instead decided to watch Aziraphale ignore him and cut delicately into a sea bream that looked like it was pulled straight from the water and shoved into the oven.
“It’s coming back into style,” the angel told him matter-of-factly, “it is now very chic to order a fish with the head still attached. Isn’t it funny how trends come back around?” Crowley watched him take a savoring bite.
“Delightful!” Aziraphale was absolutely transcendent, relishing in the new flavors and sensations. “Would you like to try, my dear? It’s wonderful,” he held out his fork with a generous bite for the demon. Crowley leaned in and accepted the small gift.
It was wonderful, Crowley had to admit. Charred and salted to near perfection, it seemed inconsequential that a dulled eyeball was watching them.
For dessert, the angel had picked up a ginger cake with poached pears at a shop a couple blocks down from Crowley’s apartment. It had immediately become Aziraphale’s favorite bakery in London and he had gone back every day since. The angel lingered for hours on a single slice and Crowley hadn’t minded one bit.
When he finally finished, Crowley cleared away the mess and they went into the living room. It was barely recognizable as Crowley’s already. There were books everywhere, for a start, and the angel had insisted that he get more comfortable furniture. The plants he had kept exclusively in the atrium had somehow found their way into various other places in the apartment. They seemed less stressed lately, but no less flourishing. Crowley tried to be furious at this, but found he could only be slightly annoyed.
Aziraphale was chattering about adding some bookshelves so that it would look less cluttered, but Crowley suddenly remembered what he had been doing before the angel had arrived.
“Wait here a second,” he turned abruptly and headed down the hall, “I got something for you.” Aziraphale was surprised but continued to the couch, grabbing a large tome on his way. Usually after dinner Crowley would watch television and he would read and they’d curl around each other until the morning came. It would probably seem a little boring to outsiders, but neither of them minded. After 6000 years working for opposing bureaucracies, they had deserved the rest.
A moment later Crowley had returned, dropping a shiny brick in Aziraphale’s lap.
“What’s this?” Aziraphale picked up the object, but he knew immediately what it was. He had seen Crowley’s enough times to know what a mobile phone was.
“Oh, Crowley, you didn’t.” the angel exasperated. “You know I’m not interested in these things.”
“I know, I know angel, but hear me out. I already set it up for you and everything, here look,” Crowley snatched it back with deft fingers but crowded in close to Aziraphale so he could see what he was doing.
“See, I’ve already programmed my number in, so all you have to do is tap this button and it will call me. And if you want to send me a text all you have to do is tap this button, look I’ve already texted you.” He showed Aziraphale the message.
Aziraphale, who had thought he had already decided he didn’t want the phone, suddenly softened. The message read; I love you, angel with a small picture of a snake next to it.
He huffed and took the phone and stared at it, frowning. Awkwardly he tapped the home button and was met with all the apps the demon had downloaded for him. Patiently, Crowley went through each one and showed him what they were for and how to use them. It took most of the night and by the end of it he was ready for a nap, but Aziraphale had accepted the gift and promised to use it.
Crowley shuffled off to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed, immediately falling asleep. When he woke up a few hours later, he had 10 text messages from Aziraphale waiting for him.
I love you too, my dear.
Where is the rest of the cake?
I hope you didn’t throw it away!!!
I’m going to the shops, if you wake up before I get back let me know if you need anything
I saw a dog!! He was wearing a sweater!
RSC is doing As You Like It at the Barbican, shall I get tickets?
I got tickets for Saturday!
How did you get that snake picture?
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I’ll be home soon!
Crowley couldn’t help the smile that spread through his face or the laugh that he barked out at the snake his angel had probably painstakingly typed out. He had forgotten to show him emojis.
He heard movement in the kitchen so he got up and stretched to go see how Aziraphale had managed his day with his new phone.
--
“Angel, I’ve been calling you all day, why haven’t you answered?” Crowley burst through the door agitated. Aziraphale looked up innocently confused.
“What do you mean, dear? I haven’t heard my phone ring once!” Crowley picked up the angel’s mobile and showed him the 20 missed calls.
“How did you not hear me calling? It’s on as loud as it can go!”
Aziraphale was unphased by this. “I don’t know what to tell you love, I didn’t hear a phone ring.” Crowley pulled out his own phone and dialed the angel for the 21st time that day. The phone lit up and Vivaldi’s Four Seasons blasted loudly. The demon showed him the phone again.
“This is me calling you.” He said flatly before hanging up.
“That’s my ringtone? Oh, well in that case, yes I did hear it.” The angel took the phone and marveled at it. “I didn’t know that was where the music was coming from, I just thought it was your stereo doing odd things again.”
Crowley was incredulous, but he silently berated himself for not thinking of this. The angel was clever, but not clever in areas of technology. Defeated, he sat next Aziraphale and took the mobile back.
“Here, I’ll change it to something more obvious.” He flicked through the various ringtones that came with the phone until he landed on the most classic ring sound. The angel perked up.
“Yes, if I had heard that I definitely would have answered you, my dear.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley on the cheek before going back to his book. “What were you calling about anyway?”
Crowley’s annoyance had completely dissipated with the kiss. “Oh, right. We got the cottage.”
Aziraphale nearly dropped his book. “My dear boy! Why didn’t you start with that! This is excellent news!”
“I tried! If you had just answered the phone!” But there was no heat in his argument. Aziraphale’s face was so bright he was grateful for his sunglasses.
“Did they say how long until we could move in?” Crowley could see he was already making arrangements in his head.
“Well it doesn’t close until the end of the month, and it needs updating. Maybe by December.”
Aziraphale clutched Crowley’s forearm with one hand and placed the other to his chest, completely overwhelmed. “We’ll be there for Christmas!”
Crowley hadn’t quite done that on purpose, but he was pleased with the reaction nonetheless. He made a mental note to make bloody well sure the cottage was ready in time.
“Some champagne to celebrate? Or should we go out? I can get us a table at the Ritz?” Crowley was probably pushing the angel’s capacity for happiness, but he couldn’t help it.
“Oh, yes! They have a new dessert I’ve been dying to try. I saw it on the Instagram!” Aziraphale got up to get his jacket, leaving Crowley to deal with that sudden onslaught of information. He’s pretty sure he didn’t download that app.
--
The bookshop was eerily empty. Crowley hadn’t been there when Aziraphale had gotten the place, so he hadn’t had a reference to go by.
All the books were boxed up in Crowley’s bedroom (“you don’t even need to sleep, my dear, and it’s only for a little while!”). Crowley had given up his bed only because Aziraphale promised to nap with him on the couch sometimes.
The bookshelves were gone, sold or given away, all of the angel’s trinkets and decorations had gotten similar relocations. He had held onto a few items other than his books, but otherwise everything was gone.
“Are you sure you want to let this place go? It’s prime real estate in the middle of London.” Crowley was a little sad to see it go. Even though Aziraphale had only had it for a century, it seemed like a vital part of him. The human part. The part that meant he was on Crowley’s side.
Aziraphale waved off the concern, “yes, I think it’s time. Besides, it hasn’t been the same since it burned down. Adam did his best I’m sure, but it doesn’t feel right anymore.” The way the angel so flippantly mentioned the fire jolted Crowley. To the angel it was merely a story, but for Crowley it had been earth shattering.
The demon brushed off the pain. Aziraphale was with him now, and he’d be with him forever. He shouldn’t be so sensitive about it. “I suppose you’re right. It’s around the time the humans start to get suspicious anyway.”
Aziraphale took his hand, “time to go?”
Crowley squeezed it and gave the angel a fond smile. “I guess so.”
They decided to walk through St. James’ Park. They would be leaving for the countryside in a couple of weeks, and though they knew they weren’t leaving London behind forever, it felt like a closing of a chapter. They had spent a good deal of time in this park, and they were both grateful that this time they could spend it holding hands.
“We never got to have that picnic,” Aziraphale mentioned in an offhand way.
“We’ll have plenty of picnics at our new home, angel.” Crowley was looking at the sky, the clouds were threatening rain at any moment.
“Of course, dear, of course we will. It’s just,” Crowley knew better than to look at the angel in that moment, but he did anyway. “It’s just I thought we’d get to picnic here. At least once. That’s what I always imagined.”
And how was Crowley going to say no to that? Combined with the puppy dog eyes Aziraphale was so adept at using on him, the demon was helpless.
“Okay angel, we’ll go on a picnic before we leave. But not today, we’re about to get washed out. Even the humans are leaving.” He was right, the wind was beginning to kick up and they could feel the dampness in the air.
“C’mon, lets go home and I’ll make you some cocoa.” The angel happily agreed.
Crowley was very good at making hot cocoa. Somehow, he could do the exact same thing that Aziraphale did, but his was always better. The angel found this irritating, but quickly learned to use it to his advantage. The demon never turned down a request.
As he set down the mug the demon noticed Aziraphale’s mobile was on and open on the coffee table. The angel had had it for nearly two months and had more or less accepted it as a part of his life. He wasn’t great at keeping track of it though.
“You shouldn’t leave your phone out like this you know,” Crowley plucked it up and pretended to scroll through it. “You’re just leaving all your secrets out for anyone to see.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “thank you for the cocoa.” There wasn’t anything on his phone he didn’t want Crowley to see.
“You haven’t even changed the background yet,” the demon despaired, he had to do everything around here.
“I didn’t even know you could do that, my dear.” Aziraphale wasn’t really interested, he had found an old favorite book of his while cleaning out the shop and he had been reading it almost exclusively since.
Crowley opened the camera app and held it up to take a shot of the angel. He got him right as he was taking a sip of his cocoa and it wasn’t flattering. Crowley set it as the background and then tossed it back on the coffee table. He curled up against Aziraphale and looked through his own phone, not mentioning that the angel was also his phone background (though it was a much better photo).
Aziraphale put his arm around Crowley and pulled him in. He kissed the top of his head and whispered how much he loved him. Crowley all but melted into the angel’s chest. He’d change the phone background to something nicer later.
--
“Dear, could you please change this awful photo from my phone? I’m tired of looking at it.” The weather had cleared up enough for a picnic the day before they set off for their new cottage. It was still cold, but it hadn’t rained in 3 days, so they had bundled up and headed down to the park.
The spread was of course, stunning. Aziraphale had hand-picked each item and was having an excellent time telling Crowley what to eat and how. They were nearly finished when the angel took out his mobile to show Crowley something and was reminded of the truly terrible photo.
Crowley chuckled and took the phone, deftly taking a picture of the cheese and jam abomination that Crowley had made to scandalize the angel and set it as the background. He handed it back to Aziraphale who didn’t even check it. He was already halfway through a story about the time he had seen Crowley at The Scala in the 1980’s.
“Wait what, when?” Crowley sputtered. He didn’t remember seeing Aziraphale at the Scala. He definitely would have remembered that.
“Oh, I don’t know exactly, I had gone in because I had heard they were putting on a screening of film I had been a part of in the 60’s. Obviously I hadn’t quite been expecting what kind of establishment it was.” Aziraphale laughed, lost in the memory. Crowley was shocked.
“Anyway, halfway through the film I decided the place wasn’t for me so I went to leave and I saw you in the corner. I was going to say hello but you seemed busy, uhm, tempting, so I just left. Isn’t that funny? I wonder how many times we’ve been in the same place and had just missed each other.” Aziraphale took a sip of his wine as Crowley absorbed this.
He did remember frequenting The Scala in the 80’s. Aziraphale could have seen him any number of times, doing God knows what (hopefully She hadn’t been paying attention). The demon felt the blush that spread from the base of his neck to his cheeks.
“You should have said hello,” he smiled coyly, but he had surprised himself with the response. He didn’t know what he would have done if he had suddenly seen the angel there, but he did know it would have been much better than whatever it was he had been doing.
“Oh?” the angel cocked his eye brow, “next time, maybe.” He smiled indulgently at the demon who was still, very obviously red. “Come here, dear, you have something on your face.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s face and pulled him into a kiss. “You’ll have to show me what you were doing in there some time.”
The demon’s breath hitched as the angel kissed him again.
“Whatever you want, angel.”
--
The cottage was perfect.
Crowley couldn’t have designed it any better if he had had the stars at his finger tips again.
It was deceptively large, most of it taken up with Aziraphale’s library, but there was plenty of space for the pair to spread out. The garden outside was already well tended, but Crowley had plans for its improvement in the spring. Aziraphale had been upset by the thought of leaving Crowley’s plants behind, so they had come with them. They were scattered around the cottage and had already grown to mimic the garden outside.
The kitchen had been remodeled so it was completely up to date with all new appliances and the fridge was well stocked with Aziraphale’s favorites.
All of the furniture had been chosen by both of them together. Aziraphale insisted everything be comfortable while Crowley insisted it all be stylish and follow the aesthetic of the cottage. He thinks they managed pretty well.
As promised, it was December by the time they had completely moved in. Aziraphale was floating he was so happy. He was puttering around the cottage decorating with the most garish Christmas decorations he could find. Crowley protested every other red face Santa Claus and carrot-nosed Snowman, but Aziraphale ignored him.
Neither Crowley or Aziraphale actually celebrated Christmas in the traditional sense. They had both actually known Jesus and thought he was a good kid, but they didn’t really like how he manipulated by humans through the years. Mostly they ignored the holiday, but Aziraphale did love the feeling that the season brought. The coziness, the warmth, the kindness, the food.
Crowley had less than idyllic opinions of the holiday. All he saw was hypocrisy and suffering. Usually he shut himself up in the winter and didn’t bother tempting. The humans were better at it anyway.
This would be the first time they would be spending Christmas together since the mid 1600’s, and that had been under significantly more stressful circumstances.
The demon had been shooed away after one too many cracks at the angel’s decorations so Crowley went to the kitchen to find something to do. He was considering baking something; a hobby he had started after they had moved. Aziraphale loved it. He had even gone to the effort of purchasing Crowley a recipe book and tabbed the pages of things he wanted the demon to make, (“only if you want to, my dear” he had said shyly).
Crowley was flipping through the pages when he noticed Aziraphale had left his mobile on the counter. It was shocking the angel hadn’t lost it yet, honestly. He tapped it to see if the angel had figured out how to change the wallpaper yet and huffed with amusement when the jam and cheese stared back at him. It was Christmas, he thought, he should change it to something more festive.
He glanced around the kitchen. Aziraphale’s decoration tornado had already hit it, so there was lots of potential. Finally, he decided on the disconcertingly misshapen reindeer cookie jar. And then, because he felt a little bad at making fun of the angel so much that day, he decided to make some cookies to go into the aforementioned jar.
--
December went by in a blur of tinsel and sparkling lights. Aziraphale had toyed with the idea of throwing a party and inviting their new neighbors to get to know them, but Crowley had cuddled close to him and said something about having the angel all to himself for once at Christmas and he threw the idea out immediately.
Christmas gifts were not something either had done much in the past, even when they had lived closely with humans, but this year was different. Crowley had spent an inordinate amount of time searching for something and when he felt he had found it; he spent even more time worrying Aziraphale wouldn’t like it.
He needn’t have worried, of course. Christmas morning the demon nervously made breakfast as Aziraphale bustled about setting the table and singing along to Christmas music (nothing later than Bing Crosby, which Crowley did not have an opinion about.)
Breakfast was Cranberry Orange Pancakes with eggs and Aziraphale’s favorite sausage that the demon had illegally imported. He made sure to give the angel extra whipped cream on the pancakes before bringing the plates over to the table. Shockingly, he found it to be tastefully decorated.
“Didn’t think you had it in you, angel.” He said as he placed a plate in front of Aziraphale.
“Oh, well, I thought it only polite, since you went to so much trouble for breakfast.” His eyes shined and he smiled to himself as Crowley sat next to him. “This looks absolutely divine, my dear.”
They ate, mostly in silence. Aziraphale was too busy savoring every bite and Crowley’s nerves were about shot.
“I got something for you,” Aziraphale had just about finished eating when he broke the silence. He wiped his mouth, “its uh, it’s not much, but I thought, oh, well, I suppose you should open it before I say anything.” He produced a small box wrapped in a bow. Crowley could have cried, but laughed instead.
“I got you something as well,” and produced an almost identical box, the only major difference being the color of the bow. Aziraphale was surprised for a moment but then laughed as well.
“I see, shall we open them at the same time?”
“I suppose so, angel.” Crowley reached out and grabbed the box Aziraphale had placed on the table. Aziraphale did the same.
They exchanged looks and then opened their boxes.
Crowley was immediately knocked off his axis with overwhelming wave of feeling. It was a ring. Except, not just a ring. It was heavy, sterling silver, and perfectly polished. But what took Crowley’s breath away was the engravings. They were stars, dozens of small stars. And in the center were two larger ones seemed to revolve around each other.
“Alpha Centauri,” Crowley’s eyes shot up, the angel smiled softly. “You had said… before the… well, you wanted us to run away to Alpha Centauri, and I thought it would be a nice reminder…” Crowley was crying; large silent tears. Aziraphale moved in to hold him but Crowley noticed his box was still closed.
“We were supposed to open it at the same time, angel.” The demon willed away the tears, and Aziraphale had the decency to look chagrined.
“I wanted to see your face, I’m sorry dear. I was too excited. Allow me to open it now.” Aziraphale took a moment to admire the bow that wrapped around the box, before carefully pulling it off.
The angel had been right, Crowley would rather bathe in holy water than give back the chance to see his reaction.
Aziraphale’s ring was gold, nearly weightless, but old. Crowley had bought it in 1601 at the behest of a certain playwright. He hadn’t thought he’d ever give it to Aziraphale, but he had kept it for four hundred years, just in case. The angel traced the floral design that wrapped itself around the entirety of the ring with reverence.
Crowley reached over and took the ring out, gently placing it on Aziraphale’s finger. “It reminded me of where we met, in the garden.” His voice came out as barely a whisper.
It was the angels turn at the tears, they both sat frozen at the breakfast table, so overcome they didn’t know what to do next.
It felt as if their entire lives had led up to this moment, and neither wanted it to end.
Aziraphale was the first to break the spell. He cleared his throat and dabbed his face with a napkin. “Well, my dear, Merry Christmas.”
Crowley laughed and pulled the angel to him.
--
It was mid-January before they properly talked about what the rings meant.
Aziraphale was reading while Crowley was sprawled on top of him watching a made for tv romantic comedy. The demon was half asleep by the time the big proposal happened and it barely seeped into his consciousness.
Aziraphale nearly spilled his wine when Crowley shot up in confusion.
“Angel, are we getting married?” He realized how stupid he sounded as soon as he said it. If it had been to anyone else, he would have been embarrassed, but these things meant something different to immortal beings.
Did angels and demons get married? Crowley didn’t know the protocol; they were the first to jump this particular hurdle.
Aziraphale didn’t laugh, he put his book down looking thoughtful. “I suppose that’s what usually happens when humans exchange rings, isn’t it? I have to admit my dear, that hadn’t been on my mind when I got it for you.”
Crowley shook his head, “no, nor I.” They sat in their own little worlds, mulling over the possibility.
“I hope this doesn’t sound too awful my love, but I don’t think that it is necessary. I don’t want to say that we are above such things, but at the same time- “
“We are.” Crowley agreed. “That’s what I was thinking as well. A bit too human.”
“Yes, exactly.” The matter was settled. “Do you fancy going out for tea today?”
Crowley smiled, “that sounds perfect, angel.” And got up to check his hair in the mirror before tracking down his shoes. He found them in the library, where Crowley had collapsed the previous evening after spending all day in the garden dealing with the frost and preparing for the snow storm they were supposed to be getting soon. Aziraphale had been reading through some documents and taking notes and had barely given him a pitying glance.
As he finished lacing up his shoes, he glanced over at Aziraphale’s desk and noticed the angels mobile sitting and gathering dust. Crowley rolled his eyes and grabbed it. He hadn’t changed it since before Christmas and he was sure the angel was tired of the reindeer from hell. (Hell wishes they were that clever.)
Except it wasn’t the reindeer. Aziraphale had apparently finally figured out how to change it, and it was now a picture of Crowley. He was sleeping, his sunglasses were off, and his hand with his new ring lay next to his face. The demon’s heart skipped a beat before thudding faster. He could hardly contain the feeling that was coursing through his spine.
“Are you ready, my dear?” Aziraphale called from the foyer. Crowley was there in seconds, taking the angel in his arms and kissing him soundly.
“What was that for?” he asked when Crowley pulled away. He looked slightly dazed and the demon was about to burst.
“I just love you, that’s all.” He replied and kissed the angel again.
“Oh, I love you too, darling.” Aziraphale was trying to stifle the large smile that threatened to derail their entire outing.
“Let’s go,” Crowley opened the door and followed the angel out.