Chapter Text
The airport was pretty packed today, people streaming past one another, not giving a thought to the others passing by. This was good, it was good there was a lot of foot traffic. Airports were not usually people’s favorite places to go, just a stop between you and your final destination. After all, no one went on vacation just to get to the airport. No, people very much tried to avoid others at the airport.
And why wouldn’t they? It was a long and laborious process, the airport, before one even got to sit down on the plane. First when arriving one had to check in for their flight, and print out their ticket so that the airline would acknowledge you still want to fly, though if you don’t get to your gate in time that’s a whole other story. Then passengers would have to drop off their bags at the counter, having a row with a machine in order to receive a tag for their luggage and making sure it is the correct size and length to be tossed underneath the airplane for travel. Then after fighting with the baggage claim people that their other bag was indeed a size fit for a carry on, they would have to go through security, the metal detector, the taking off of shoes and taking out any electronics, metals, or liquid items. Then, if you were lucky, you would get to skip the full body cavity search and then either wait for your flight while drinking burnt coffee and eating stale donuts, or run across the terminal on foot, trying to make it to your gate in time.
So it was not a surprise that most people hated the airport, most people that is, except for Ezra Fell. Ezra didn’t hate the airport; he simply tolerated it. There was a nice nuance to being just another face in the crowd. And the thing was, everyone went through the airport, all kinds of people on their way forward. So someone from the slums could be using their last penny to try and start fresh somewhere else, or a billionaire could be waiting for his private jet to take him to Rio. Everyone had a different story, and Ezra Fell loved stories. He loved watching as people passed with their overstuffed luggage and their worried eyes as they wondered if they did indeed pack any pants. But usually people tended to be grumpy at the airport and didn’t look to interact with others beyond their own party, and that suited Ezra just fine.
“Welcome to the Wichita Mid-continent Airport.” A computerized voice said over the airport speakers, a recording from long ago that would play on repeat. “Convenient, friendly, affordable. Fly with us.” The voice continued on, but Ezra had drowned it out at this point.
He walked up to one of the many boards displaying the different departure flights and their status. He found his flight to Boston and discovered that it was delayed. Ezra tutted at the news and pulled out a golden pocket watch from the pocket of his waistcoat. It had little wings on the cover, each feather etched into the golden surface, showing an intricate and stylish design. Ezra Fell was a very modest and humble man. He wore a blue button up shirt with cream and tan colored trousers and coat and he also sported a tartan bowtie around his neck. He liked to dress nice wherever he went, even when going to the airport, where he knew he would spend hours within a metal, enclosed container with a bunch of strangers all breathing the same air.
Ezra shook his head as he put the watch back in his pocket and moved to a nearby stall in the airport to buy some food. He might as well eat if he was going to have to wait. The food selection was limited, but he would make due with what was around him, looking over boxed sandwiches and overpriced bags of crisps. His eyes glazed over the selection until he decided to settle on a frozen gelato treat, or at least the airport equivalent of one.
After he purchased his food he surveyed the crowds and passengers moving through the airport. He liked people watching generally, but he particularly liked it at the airport. He liked making up stories for each group or individual who came by, where they were going and why. For example, that businessman who kept checking his watch was running late for a big meeting. He would have been on time except he missed his earlier flight because he was too busy banging his secretary in his office before heading to the airport. And that cute couple sitting by the coffee cart, well they were obviously on their honeymoon, the way they kept staring at each other. Then that young blonde woman surrounded by the large group of people sharing heartfelt goodbyes was going to university for the first time. Probably to study communication or something.
Once Ezra had finished his gelato he threw the wrapper away and made his way to the gift shop. There wasn’t much there, the typical snacks and books for the plane ride. Ezra loved reading and thought perhaps another book or two for the ride wouldn’t be so terrible. As he made his way over he stopped, noticing a couple of figurines in a display case. His eyes roved over them, noticing some native American figures, some archers, next to a couple of knights. Ezra pursed his lips and shook his head. He was about to bypass the display all together and head back to the books when he noticed two more figures at the end of the case. One was a demon, red in the face with horns and a pointed tail, and the other was of an angel, with white wings and a halo, curly blonde hair and eyes closed. The angel clasped its hands together, holding something in between them.
He considered the figurines but then noticed what was behind them, a rather frazzled looking, but stunningly gorgeous man with bright red hair and sunglasses, had just entered the airport. He wore incredibly tight, black trousers that looked like they could have been painted on. He also wore a black top, with the top few buttons unbuttoned, showing off his gleaming pale throat. He grumbled something under his breath as he pulled what appeared to be a heavy carry on behind him as he started trudging through the airport.
He was extremely attractive, Ezra wouldn’t deny that, in fact he was just the kind of man that… Ezra shook his head slightly. He was about to turn away when he noticed the man’s carry on. It did look heavy in the other man’s grip but it also had a sticker stuck to the side that read “Boston”. Ezra considered that for a moment before picking up the angel from the display case, selecting a book from the stand, and walking over to the check out counter.
~
“So I’m gonna make it onto the earlier flight, right?” Crowley asked the man on the other side of the check in, tapping his fingers anxiously on the counter. He was not in the best mood, his taxi service was late in picking him up and the grabby driver tried to hit on him, so he had to cancel his ride and order an uber instead, which took even longer to come get him. He rubbed the back of his head. He had wanted to fly out earlier, but the parts he had ordered had not come in until the day before, and his current flight was cutting it very close, and he didn’t want to be late.
“Hmm.” The attendant nodded absently. “Are you gonna check that?” he asked, eyeing the carry on beside Crowley.
Crowley quickly shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna carry it on. It’s got valuables in it.”
The attendant shrugged before handing Crowley his ticket. “Here you are.”
“Thanks.” Crowley said before grabbing the handle on his carry on and carting it away. He angled the bag so that he could get it onto the escalator without hitting anything when a woman quickly came up behind him and kicked the bag with her high-heeled shoe.
“Hey! Watch it!” Crowley said as he pulled the bag closer, inspecting for any damage to the worn case.
“Well don’t be hogging the escalator.” She said, sending him a bit of a glare. “Your bag doesn’t need its own stair.”
Crowley wanted to shout at the woman, but after the day he was having he thought it better not to waste the energy. He sighed as he turned back around and let his eyes wander around the airport, looking for a place that sold alcohol. When he finally reached the top of the escalator he cursed slightly under his breath as he dragged his heavy carry on behind him. It was becoming a bit of a crummy day.
As he stepped off the escalator his mind and eyes were still wandering for a stall that sold alcoholic beverages that he didn’t see the other man until he had already ran into him, causing his bag to drop in the process.
“Oi! Watch where-” but the words died in his mouth as he looked up to look into the face of a literal angel. A man in his thirties with curly, blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a beige overcoat and fucking tartan bowtie was staring up at him. He was quite possibly the most attractive man Crowley had ever seen.
“Oh dear! I’m so sorry!” The man said before bending down to help pick up Crowley’s bag.
“Uh, no, it’s um, my fault.” He said, bending down to grab the carry on’s handle. “The bag is wicked heavy anyhow.” He mumbled under his breath.
“Goodness me, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” The other man said as he straightened up and then started to fuss over Crowley. Crowley felt a blush rise to his cheeks as the man handed him back his heavy bag with ease and tugged on his jacket to straighten it out. Then he felt the other man’s eyes wander over him, presumably checking for any damage that might have been done during their collision. Though that didn’t stop a small part of Crowley’s brain from wondering if the other man was checking him out.
Crowley was not proud of this, but he also took the time to check out this handsome stranger. Blue button up, beige trousers and jacket. He looked fashionable, that is if it was a couple hundred years ago. I mean the man was wearing a fucking bowtie for someone’s sake. Not to mention the most gorgeous blue eyes that Crowley had ever seen, all outlined with a fluffy head of blonde curls, and with the way the sun was streaming through the windows behind him, Crowley thought the man looked like an angel.
Of course the other beige, tartan wearing bowtie angel chose that moment to look up and meet Crowley’s gaze. He was immediately glad that he still had his sunglasses on so the other man couldn’t see how big his pupils had blown, but he was sure the blush rising on his cheeks might have given him away anyways.
Crowley ran a nervous hand through his red hair, giving himself a distraction as he pulled his bag closer to his side. “Well, we’re alright, no harm done.”
The other man, the angel smiled, lighting up his whole face. Even his eyes looked brighter than they had a moment ago. He has an amazing smile. Crowley thought, like the sun, trying to pull you into its orbit.
The angel considered him a moment, the smile not leaving his face, which caused Crowley’s heart to do a little flip. But then all too soon the moment was over and the angel pulled away, leaving him slightly disappointed. Crowley wanted to reach out or say something to keep this nervous, beautiful stranger talking to him. But before he could think of anything the man paused, giving Crowley a bit of a startled look before it morphed into a mischievous little grin. “You have a little…” he said, pointing to Crowley’s forehead and then at his own in the same spot. “smudge.” Then, he turned away.
Crowley was grateful for his departure, because then the man wouldn’t be able to see the violent blush that crept up his cheek. He quickly took out his phone, flipping the camera into selfie mode so that he could see what the man was pointing at. He mumbled a soft curse as he saw a black mark smeared on his forehead. It must have gotten there when he was working in the garage earlier. He scrubbed at the smudge wildly until it was gone.
When he turned back around, the angel was nowhere in sight. Crowley sighed as he pulled his carry on close to him once more. He still had to make it through security.
The security line itself wasn’t terrible, in fact it was relatively short. And with the luck Crowley had been having that day he had expected a super long line before he was even able to get his baggage checked. But luckily that wasn’t the case. When he finally made it to the front of the line he lifted his heavy carry on onto the table, where one of the attendants pulled the bag in front of him. He opened the bag, his eyes widening as he did so. “What are these?” he asked, looking up at Crowley slightly suspiciously.
Crowley sighed. He knew he would get asked about them. “Those are parts for a modified 20/25-hp engine.”
The man nodded absently, picking up a tube-like piece to peer through. Crowley rolled his eyes. It was a sophisticated piece of machinery, not a kaleidoscope. He didn’t want to see some pedestrian handling such equipment so he quickly turned to scope out the room. After all, anything was better than watching this idiot play with his precious items. And that’s when he noticed that the angel he had run into off the escalator was in the line beside him, carefully folding his waistcoat into a plastic bin so that he could go through the metal detector.
He quickly turned around before the angel could see him and found that the attendant had moved on and was playing with a different set of parts. “Those are exhaust tips and that’s a silver, winged hood ornament.” He explained to the confused man. The man put the parts down and continued to search through Crowley’s belongings. The man clearly was not nearly done. “I restore old cars, so…” Crowley went on, feeling the need to justify the presence of these rare and strange pieces in his carry on. The man gave a slight nod as he continued to go through the bag. Then he pulled out a hair dryer and held it up for inspection. “It’s a hair dryer.” Crowley said, feeling rather annoyed. The man simply raised an eyebrow before putting it back in the carry on.
As the attendant tried to shove everything back into the carry on Crowley chanced another look behind him, hoping to catch the angel’s eye. But when he turned there was a woman standing there instead, feeding her own carry on into the machine. Crowley turned around dejectedly, he had missed his chance to talk to the angel again, and now it was likely he never would.
“You’re good to go sir.” The attendant said, zipping up his bag.
Crowley gave him a slight nod before pulling his carry on off the table and setting out toward the gates. As Crowley read the signs for the gates he realized that his gate, 12 was on the other side of the terminal. He grumbled to himself as he set off at a brisk walk, trying to get to his gate as quickly as possible.
Crowley grumbled under his breath as he went, eyes scanning the signs by each gate, telling him how far away he still was. He was also lamenting the missed opportunity. The angel had been a very good-looking man, and Crowley would have liked to get a coffee with him. But Crowley stopped himself. He didn’t even know if the man was gay for someone’s sake! But the point is, Crowley still wasn’t paying attention, which is why he didn’t see the angel until he literally ran into him again.
“Oh Christ! Are you fucking kidding- shiiiiiiiit.” Crowley said as he looked up to see the angel in front of him again.
“No my dear. I’m afraid I’m not. Christ is far too formal.” the man said with an amused chuckle and a smile as he recognized Crowley. Crowley couldn’t help but smile in return. Turns out the angel had a little bit of bastard in him. “It seems that this is starting to become a bit of a habit isn’t it?” the man asked, drawing Crowley out of his thoughts.
“Uh, yeah, it is.” Crowley said, unable to fight back the smile stretching on his face. “I’m sorry about that.” He said as they both bent down to grab their bags.
“Oh it’s no trouble at all.” The angel assured him as he picked up Crowley’s bag and the ticket he had been holding. Meanwhile Crowley also picked up the other man’s carry on and a book that had fallen to the floor. “Hmm. Shakespeare. Hamlet?” he asked, reading the cover.
“Yes. I do love the bard. He has so many wonderful stories. But I do believe Hamlet is my favorite.” The man rattled, a bright smile on his face. “Have you read it?”
Crowley shook his head. “Nah. Well, not Hamlet specifically. I’ve read some of his other works, but I’m more into the comedies. Hamlet’s a bit too gloomy for me.” He said, handing the other man his book and carry on.
“Ah, well, you don’t know what you’re missing.” He said, handing Crowley back his ticket. Crowley wanted to say more, to prolong the conversation. Maybe he could talk to him more about Shakespeare, though as he stood there, staring at this gorgeous man, any facts about Shakespeare or any of his work immediately fled Crowley’s mind.
Luckily for Crowley the angel spoke again. “Boston?” he asked, pointing at Crowley’s ticket.
“Yeah.” Crowley said, a flicker of surprise crossing over his face. But then he realized that the man had seen his ticket, so it wasn’t that unusual that he knew where Crowley was headed.
“Gate 12.” The man said with a smile before turning and walking away with a light step.
For a moment all Crowley could do was stare after the man with his mouth slightly open. The man had wiggled, legit wiggled as he hopped away, and it was doing something to Crowley’s insides that he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since… But he shook his head as the last two words the angel had said sparked in his mind, Gate 12. Wait, if he knew his gate number… could the angel also be going to…? Crowley quickly grabbed the handle to his carry on and jogged to catch up with the other man.
“So, you’re going to Boston too?” Crowley asked, trying to make conversation once he sidled up next to the angel.
“Why yes.” The angel said, as he kept his brisk pace walking forward.
“Ah, business?” Crowley asked, giving the man a once over again, taking in his suit and bowtie. It was a reasonable assumption, especially accompanied by the man’s brown and worn messenger bag at his side.
“Not quite. Though while I am on my way to Boston currently, I am afraid it’s more of a temporary stop before my final destination.” The angel said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he side eyed Crowley. “And you my dear? Is Boston your intended destination?”
Crowley tried not to blush at the man’s use of the words “my dear”. He tried not to blush at the man’s whole vocabulary. People didn’t talk like that anymore. “Yeah, it is.” Crowley had intended to say more, but his brain needed a reboot.
“Well, I hope you have a wonderful time there. If you have the time I certainly recommend trying a Boston Cream Pie from the Omni Parker House Hotel. They say it was the birthplace of the dessert.” The angel said, a glint in his eye. “And of course the clam chowder is simply divine.”
“Oh yeah, I know. About the clam chowder anyway.” Crowley said, quickly speaking again. “I’m from Boston, well, kind of. I mean, I’m originally from London, but I’ve been living in Boston a while.”
“Ah, I thought I recognized your accent. Though I admit it sounds a bit more Scottish in nature.” The angel smiled. “But I am terribly sorry to have assumed.” He said, blushing slightly. Crowley thought the blush on his cheeks was rather fetching.
“Ah, don’t worry about it. The accent throws people off.” He said, waving off the comment. “And where are you from? Your accent suggests you’re…” he started to say but then trailed off when he realized he was about to call the angel “posh”.
Yet it didn’t seem to bother the man because he let out a light chuckle, a devious glint in his eye, as if he knew what Crowley was going to say. “I was originally from London as well. Though I have been traveling a lot for work rather recently.” He said, sliding his eyes away from Crowley.
Crowley could detect the slight unease in the man’s posture. He didn’t want the angel to feel uncomfortable. He wanted to put the smile back on the man’s face, so he decided to switch back to the topic of food. That had seemed to make the man perk up.
“Well, I’m not sure how long you’ll be in Boston. But if you like good food then you should definitely try the Lobster mac n’ cheese at the Local on Washington street. It’s so good.” He started to say before shutting his mouth. This was obviously a man of more taste. To suggest mac and cheese, even if it had lobster in it, well, surely he would think Crowley was a child.
But the man simply smiled at Crowley again, a smile that made his insides squirm. “Thank you my dear. That sounds lovely. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have this trip. But I will be sure to keep an eye out for it in the future.”
Crowley was basking in the man’s presence. Everything about him was so warm and inviting. And the slight praise that he gave, even if it was about food recommendations, Crowley ate it up. He wanted to say more, continue talking with the angel about whatever he wanted, but they had finally reached their gate, and the line for boarding.
The angel gestured before himself, allowing Crowley to get in line first.
“Oh, thanks.” Crowley said, flashing the man one of his more flirtatious smiles, more tooth than anything, and stepped in the line before him. As they moved forward in line he swished his hips a little more than usual, hoping to give the angel behind him a good show. Little did he know, it was working.
But soon they had reached the front of the line and a flight attendant took Crowley’s ticket. She looked at his ticket for less than a second before she quickly said. “I’m sorry, you’re not on this flight.”
Crowley looked up in shock, all thoughts of the attractive man behind him fleeing his brain. He had thought his crummy day was going to get better, but it seems fate couldn’t just let him meet a gorgeous man without some kind of cosmic imbalance. “Well I just checked into this flight ten minutes ago. There must be some sort of mistake.”
“I’m sorry, the computer shows that we’re booked.” The flight attendant said, a fake, customer service smile plastered on her face.
Now Crowley had had enough of this, and he wasn’t afraid to play a couple cards to get what he wanted. Normally he also didn’t have a problem flirting with the girl to get his way, but with thoughts of the angel fresh in his mind, and the knowledge that he was standing just behind him, he pushed that as a back up plan. But it was alright, he had another trick up his sleeve. “Look, Sherry.” He said once he spotted her name tag. “Tomorrow my best friend is getting married. We grew up together-“
The flight attendant cut him off. “I’m sorry sir the-”
“Listen, just for a second.” Crowley said, some of his annoyance creeping into his voice at being both cut off and practically ignored. “We grew up together. She’s my best friend and I’m walking her down the aisle, practically her maid of honor. Hell, if it weren’t for Anathema-”
“That’s very sweet.” The flight attendant cut him off again, that same fake, plastic smile still on her face. “But the 11:15 should get you there by tomorrow morning.” Then she turned to the man behind him. “Boarding pass sir?”
Crowley moved aside slightly, the reality that he wouldn’t be able to make this flight starting to settle in. What was he going to do? What would he tell Anathema? He didn’t notice the angel man had already gone though his check in with the flight attendant until he had stopped in front of Crowley. He had a sympathetic yet clear look on his face.
“Sometimes things happen for a reason my dear.” He said, giving Crowley a soft smile before heading down the hallway that would lead to the waiting plane to Boston.
Crowley watched him go. His mood worsening when he realized that not only was he going to be stuck in the airport for a couple more hours, but also that he would probably never see this angelic man again. And as he watched those golden curls walk down the runway he realized that he didn’t even know the man’s name.
~
As Ezra walked down the hall toward the plane he thought back to what he had seen earlier while checking in. There were definitely at least two men who did not belong in that airport. One had been watching him, sitting at a bench, pretending like he wasn’t studying Ezra’s every move. Ezra knew he was up to no good, could see it in the way his overly greased bald head practically glowed in the sunlight, and because the book he was reading was not only upside down but likely far too advanced for a man of his seeming reading level.
The other man was the red head he had conversed with on the way to his gate. While Ezra still found him extremely attractive he also found him rather enjoyable to chat with, however brief their interactions were. And after overhearing the man’s plea to get on the plane for his best friend’s wedding he felt sympathetic toward him. If there were something he could do to help that man get to his friend’s wedding in time then he would do it. However, Ezra also knew that this particular situation would not permit it, and no amount of smooth talking would get this man on that plane. It was safer this way, better that the gorgeous red head wasn’t on that flight. Yet Ezra couldn’t help but pause as he walked toward the runway, casting a look back over his shoulder, wishing to catch one last look at the red head. But he quickly shoved the thought aside and moved forward. No, it was much better this way. Ezra has almost always been alone, and that’s the way it should stay. It was safer for everyone.