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Although fan conventions and expos could sometimes be a bit draining on him, the reality was that David genuinely enjoyed participating in them. Social media wasn't really his thing, so the opportunity to interact and have conversations with his fans in person was always something he looked forward to, even more so after the pandemic.
Given his experience in the industry and having portrayed impactful characters with very devoted fanbases, he was well-acquainted with conducting hours-long Q&A panels. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love walking into a room full of people who felt inspired by him and his life work; it was nice getting to meet people who were inspired to wear his characters clothes, adapting their mannerisms, and possibly even making part of that character's identity their very own. Allowing himself to sit down for a bit, just chatting with all of them, felt like giving them something back in return for their support. It was nice.
David was no stranger to being on the receiving end of some weird questions and requests from time to time, if he were to be completely honest. He had been in the industry long enough to have encountered all sorts of people, after all.
It was not often, though, that a question caught him completely off guard.
"What is an emotional scene that stands out to you, and that you had to fake the least?" the fan asked, after getting passed down the microphone. There was no ill-intended tone in their voice, just plain honest interest and perhaps a little bit of desire to refrain from asking a question that would sound way too repetitive in David’s ears.
David's expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered the question for a minute or two. It was a tough one. He had played too many emotional roles, always diving head first into the most heart-wrenching roles he could possibly secure throughout his entire career.
Being an actor demanded the ability to resist growing too attached – to the role, the script, the fellow cast members. It was meant to be a routine job: stepping in and out, donning and doffing the mask off. He wasn't meant to allow the weight of a character seep into his personal life.
Allowing a character to permeate his being on set was one thing, and it surely helped him give some of his best, most emotion filled deliveries, but allowing himself to take his character’s heavy baggage into the calmness of his own house was way off from what the job asked for. It had to begin and end at whatever set in the middle of nowhere he ought to be at.
“The scene that i’ve faked the least…? Oh that’s a tough question”. — After a moment of contemplation, he finally continued. "It’s probably a scene you don't realize is emotional until you're right in the middle of it,"
He hoped the answer would be enough to make the crowd eagerly seated in front of him satisfied. He couldn’t share much, not just yet.
"and I'm actually thinking about one in particular that you haven't seen yet, so I can't tell you about it."
The audience let out a collective "aww” at his mysterious response, clearly intrigued by the prospect of an unseen emotional scene possibly being released in the upcoming future.
He wondered whether, a few months down the line, anyone would be able to discern the specific scene he had then alluded to. He wondered if, maybe, someone would think back to his rushed response to someone else’s nervous question as soon as they heard the tremor in his voice as he tried to ask his best friend to spend eternity with him.
You see, that’s the thing about acting; can truly be a two sided sword sometimes. Acting demands that you immerse yourself deeply into the emotions and dynamics of the characters you're portraying to ensure you do your job to the best of your capabilities. Doing so came easy when Michael Sheen was keen on Aziraphale falling in love with Crowley, and back.
Meeting Michael felt almost mathematical.
Funny enough, at first, Michael had been offered David’s role, which seemed to be the same reason that had kept them apart up until then (always too similar to star side to side, or so they had been told). Michael was about to mark up Neil’s number to finally let him know that no,hecan’tdothisrole, when he got a call from an overly excited Neil on the other side of the line telling him: “we have got him! I got you David Tennant!”
To say David was nervous to finally see Michael for the first time would be an understatement. He had waited so long to be on the same set as him again. To find the courage his younger self hadn’t been able to gather up for himself and just get close enough to Michael to say hello out of role. They had shared a set once, a long time ago.
And David remembered. He remembered saying yes to playing an eccentric character with a stupid name and an even more stupid mustache. He could still feel the pure excitement in his bones from participating in a movie featuring exceptional actors, too. But more so, he remembers the tightness in his chest as he witnessed Miles Maitland come to life for the first time on a theater screen during the premiere. He would never admit it to anyone, but right then and there, he longed to possess the same courage as Miles, even harking back to 1930, lightning something up in fire within himself; all while he was seated next to his newfound girlfriend, who had been delicately brushing her long and cold fingers against the back of his hand as the movie played. But most importantly, he remembered Michael Sheen.
Michael's portrayal was nothing short of mesmerizing, a dance of vulnerability and strength that captivated David's attention like very few performances had managed to do in the past. The way Michael brought Miles to life was simply breath-taking. His movements, expressions, the very essence of his being seemed tailor-made for the role. David couldn't help but be in awe of how seamlessly Michael slipped into character, making it appear effortless. It was impossible to turn his gaze away from him.
He remembered wondering if Michael, who was probably sitting just a couple of rows away from him, had ever found himself catching a glimpse of his own shadow somewhere deep in Miles' portrayal, in the same way he wished he could be a little bit more like him.
David still remembers the sweat on his hands as he tried to gather up the courage to just get close enough to meet Michael that night. He never did. He just couldn’t.
Thus, they devoted an excessive number of years to cherishing each other from afar. Different roles and characters came and went, their lives moved on, and David tried his hardest not to dwell on Miles too deeply anymore. It wasn’t their time.
That is, of course, until Neil Gaiman decided to play God and put an offer on their tables they couldn’t say no to.
As the seasoned actors that they both were, they settled on embracing the newly presented task with professionalism, as they always did. Up to that point, there was nothing particularly special or different about the job. However, the situation shifted on the first day of filming when they no longer were reciting lines into thin air; they were now in each other's presence. And the characters seemed to embrace them, as though they had been tailor-made for the roles, the two of them, together.
The dynamic between the demon and the angel required an exceptional level of chemistry and authenticity. Michael, who had been a fan of the book for a lot longer than David, knew this all too well. As an actor, you strive to bring life to the characters you play and learn to love, making their emotions and interactions genuine for the audience and for yourself, in some way, too. If the role asks you to be close to someone else’s character, you do your best to make sure it seems as real as it can possibly be. So it shouldn’t have been surprising when Michael, early on, decided to stitch himself to David if it was for the benefit of their performances, right?
The more they delved into the lives of Crowley and Aziraphale, the more the lines began to blur for both of them. The sparks of chemistry that ignited onscreen easily found a parallel in their off-screen interactions. The constant exchange of playful banter, the shared laughter, and the moments of vulnerability slowly cultivated a genuine connection that extended beyond their fictional counterparts, and it was oh-so-noticeable .
This realization was as exhilarating as it was daunting. Their connection began to transcend the roles they were portraying, and that could be unsafe territory for any actor. This led to a delicate dance of emotions— navigating their characters' romantic bond while grappling with the burgeoning emotions they were experiencing for each other once the set lights were turned off.
They thought they had outgrown being allowed to have high-school crushes by now, their prime years being far behind them, but there was no other way to put a name to the tingly feeling settled on the pit of their stomachs.
Michael Sheen had never been one to accept a role he couldn’t see a part of himself reflected into ( and yes, David would later on learn that Miles was, in fact, one of them ). Aziraphale, as different as he was to himself in terms of personality, felt different from any other character he had ever played before. More easy to get into that specific headspace he needed to be in while acting, that’s for sure, but maybe that was just caused by having David by his side, always so perfectly in character that it was easy to forget Crowley wasn’t actually real.
It all happened so fast for Michael. One day, he thought of himself rather highly as an actor, he knew he was talented and good at his job. The other, he was causing scenes to be retaken time and time again because he had been too distracted counting the freckles dotting David’s nose to bother remembering to deliver his lines.
Neither of them are stupid, and they had both had their fair share of relationships to know what attraction looks and feels like. But the notion of making things work seemed utterly implausible; too many years of bottling feelings down, too many years of being afraid to reach out to the other. Too many years of being in perfectly shaped healthy long-term relationships. Their lives would collapse under the weight of it all in an instant had they dare to speak sooner; they couldn’t afford acting reckless, so they never said anything.
Soon enough, season 1 found itself getting wrapped up, followed by promotions and interviews where they had to sit next to each other and pretend their skins weren’t burning with need of something they hadn’t even made peace with.
What an ironic person Michael could be, speaking whatever truth he didn’t dare to say to David in the privacy of a small room to the vast extent of this show’s fan community of an audience instead. It started small, telling the world how much Aziraphale was in love with Crowley, because he wholeheartedly believed he was; he made a few clear statements about how much he loved him despite it being wrong and complicated. It followed with his soft voice admitting that it was easy to act as if his character was in love with Crowley because David himself was simply very easy to fall in love with. And if he let himself stare at David for a second or two during some of those interviews, he thought he had earned the right to.
The people loved them— the series, the story, their characters, their relationship. It was a bit overwhelming to receive such support for portraying a love story like this. It made them wonder, what would happen if they were ever brave enough to–.
Then the pandemic rained on them, washing away whatever amount of courage the high of the show had caused them to gather. It was okay, for a bit. They were still the best of friends after all, chatting almost everyday, which soon enough had turned into hey we should work on a zoom show together where we just play ourselves! and hey i’m having another kid! and ohmygod i’m having a kid too! accompanied by lengthy midnight conversations with a drink or two in their hand. It was easier, talking to each other like that, separated by the blinding glow of a screen and way too many miles between them for anything to feel too real, as it would in real life.
They found themselves laughing until the early hours of the morning, recounting anecdotes from their past and making plans for the future, holding onto whatever hope they could find that there will be a future at all. The more they spoke, the more they realized just how much they missed each other's presence, the warmth of being in the same room, sharing space and time without a pixelated barrier. But beneath the laughter, there was unspoken yearning that lingered. They had grown closer over the virtual distance, yet there were a thousand words left unsaid, emotions and desires that were too potent to be confined to a screen.
On a particular night, Michael found himself engrossed in a conversation about how much he loved Aziraphale, which led him to bring Miles Maitland’s name into the conversation. It had been quite some time since he had felt such affection for a role, a sentiment that rivaled the fondness he held for Miles. Michael loved how, despite the apparent dissimilarities, threads of similarity wove through the fabric of their personas, creating an unexpected bond among them—Aziraphale, Miles, and himself.
Amid the calmness and sincerity, a lightness settled in the air, and Michael's curiosity got the better of him, so he made a playful suggestion of, "David, why don't you Google 'Michael Sheen family at Bright Young Things' and see what comes up?" The mere mention of this search term made David raise an eyebrow in question. Unbelievable. There he was, photobombing the Sheen family's photo.
As the night continued to unfold, the conversation flowed, merging the fictional world of characters with the intertwined reality of friendships. Michael somehow found the courage to come clean. "You know," Michael said quietly, sipping from his wine before continuing. “I had my eyes on you, that night”.
“Why didn’t you—“.
“Ah, well, you had someone else”.
Silence.
"David, do you ever wonder...?" His voice was hesitant, almost inaudible through David’s headphones.
David's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what Michael was asking. He had wondered the same thing countless times. He took a deep breath, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine-filled glass as he replied, "Yeah, I do wonder. I’ve always wondered".
A forced side smile, and just like that the call was over.
The next day they logged back into zoom, recorded a new episode for stage, and whatever words seemed to have slipped their mouths the night before remained unmentioned. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to agree on making “you two are so married” jokes, nor that Simon referred to the storyline between their characters, who this time shared the same name as their real selves, as a love story. Had they been so easy to read all this time?
When the time finally came for them to reunite on set for the next season of their show, there was a mixture of excitement as well as tenseness filling the room. The dynamic between them had shifted during their time apart, and they could both sense it.
But filming finally resumed, and slipping back into character was as easy as it had always been, the chemistry that had always been present seemed to intensify, if anything. The emotional scenes they had to portray became more poignant, the connection between their characters mirroring the connection between them.
It was during the filming of one particularly emotional scene that the floodgates of their emotions truly opened. The script called for a heart-wrenching moment of vulnerability, a raw display of pain and longing. As they acted out the scene, the lines between fiction and reality blurred, and the emotions they had been suppressing for so long came rushing to the surface. They had read the script months before filming, of course, but nothing could have prepared them for what was about to come.
“We've known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. And we have spent our existence pretending that we aren't.”
Bright Young Things, released 2003. So... for almost 20 years, to be a bit more specific.
“I mean, the last few years, not really…”
“I would like to spend—” there was no choked up sound coming from the back of Crowley’s throat written in the script, but Michael’s eyes looked tormented and David’s own body seemed to have gone into autopilot.
“ I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can! Just the two of us. Just be an us! You and me, what do you say?”
And soon enough they were kissing. Well, not really. More like professionally pressing their lips together under the strict guidance of an intimacy coordinator they had just met, a loud reminder that this wasn’t and would never be about them.
The scene wrapped, and the weight of what they had just managed to do hung heavy in the air. A deafening silence in the room, only filled with a small crew under the instructions of not letting such an important scene for the show leak. David felt emotionally drained by the end of it, the intensity of the moment hitting him with, honestly quite expected, force. He excused himself, retreating to his hotel room, where he decided on locking himself in for the upcoming years, if needed. The emotional toll left him feeling too raw and exposed to ever see the sun again. But during his customary nightly phone call with Georgia, David had remained unusually quiet, and she knew him like the back of her hand. “David, please, let him in”, she almost pleaded right before hanging up. She meant it.
Meanwhile, Michael couldn't shake the uneasiness washing over him, making him drown. He had had front row tickets to David's performance, to the way he had poured his heart and soul into the scene, and he knew that something needed to change. Unable to ignore the pull any longer, Michael found himself standing outside David's hotel room. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before he finally knocked softly on the door. There was a tense silence, and then the door slowly opened, revealing David's weary expression. He needed to let him in.
"Hey," Michael said softly, his voice laced with concern.
David managed a tired smile. "Hey."
Without a word, Michael stepped inside, closing the door behind him. They stood there for a moment, the air heavy with years worth of unspoken truths.
David's exhaustion gave way to a flood of emotions as Michael's arms wrapped around him. They held each other tightly, their bodies pressed together, finding solace in the warmth of their embrace. No words were needed; the depth of their connection spoke volumes.
"It's okay to feel, Dai," Michael whispered, and David for the first time understood.
Their first kiss was hesitant, filled with the weight of every buried down feeling and longing they had ever felt. As their lips met, this time for real and with no intimacy coordinator to direct their movements, it was like a dam had burst, releasing a torrent of pent-up emotion. They held each other close, their bodies fitting perfectly together, as if they had been created to exist intertwined, to never be taken apart.
"What is an emotional scene that stands out to you, and that you had to fake the least?"
David wondered if anyone would be able to guess.