Chapter Text
Not every day of Aziraphale's heat was perfect.
A few times he had to ask Crowley to step out, overwhelmed with the constant nearness. He usually showered and padded downstairs to find Crowley and a meal that, luckily, could easily be reheated.
Cuddles and naps were as appreciated as the food, the readily given space, and the knot that filled him regularly.
The week passed then a few more days. It wasn't quite two weeks before Aziraphale was demanding fresh sheets and a nice bath with his alpha close. When they snuggled into bed after sharing pizza, giggles, and wine, Aziraphale kissed his cheek.
He felt... good. His head felt clear and the heat of his skin had faded to a pleasant warmth. “I've never felt this way after a heat,” he admitted in a whisper. Crowley already knew he'd never had one so short.
“Good. I'm glad,” Crowley whispered back, letting their foreheads come together. He'd gotten worried when the week had passed and yet Aziraphale's scent and fangs had stayed the way they were. It was a relief to know he wouldn't need to call the local physician. “You don't smell so much like heat anymore.”
“If this is how they’re supposed to be - or at least much closer - I might not miss next year.” Aziraphale rubbed their noses together. “When does your rut come about?”
“Closer to winter. Means I get to hole up in a nest when it starts getting cold.”
Aziraphale nodded. “Do you nest for rut? My siblings have always called nesting omega nonsense, so I’m not quite sure what to expect. Assuming you want me with you, of course.”
“Of course I'd want you with me.” There hadn't been anyone else he'd wanted to spend a rut with. Having anyone else there had just seemed… wrong. “I just- I mean, I nest. Thought that was just normal.”
Aziraphale had no idea. Most of the information he had on alphas had come from his siblings, who were very private and very likely to look down on anything they deemed unnecessary. Beyond that, a rutting alpha had always been a thing to avoid at all costs. “Whatever you do will be normal for me, darling.”
“Well that's a relief. Was about to start getting worried I was doing something wrong.”
Aziraphale chuckled. “No. I don't think you could do anything wrong, but this is that post-heat glow I've heard so much about. I may remember your flaws tomorrow.”
“Now don't do that,” Crowley murmured with a smile. “I like you being so happy and in love with me.”
“That won't change,” Aziraphale promised. “That wait was worth it for us.”
“I definitely agree there. Don't regret a single second of waiting here for you.”
Sighing, Aziraphale pressed himself just a smidge closer and settled in contentedly. “Mm. Good. That's very... I'm happy.”
Which was what Crowley wanted him to be. Happy and loved. It was what Aziraphale deserved after all he'd endured. Crowley kissed the top of his head and had no qualms about holding Aziraphale for as long as he wanted.
Which turned out to be a little longer than anticipated.
It was another two days before Aziraphale seemed even enough emotionally for Crowley to go back to work. And Crowley certainly wasn't about to leave him all alone if it would cause even a moment of distress. Shadwell hadn't liked it and had even called to voice his displeasure at having to man the shop on his own.
But still Crowley lingered. He stayed until Aziraphale was huffing and rolling his eyes and telling him to “please go back to work, you overbearing alpha,” with a kiss to his cheek to make sure Crowley knew he didn't mean it that much.
He still missed Aziraphale and called him on a break just to hear the sound of his voice and listen to him talk about all the things he was currently and planning on doing to their house.
It took time and even the calling of professional renovators at one point when the wood flooring in front of the downstairs bathroom was discovered to have warped after a water leak many years ago. Eventually the home began looking more and more like someplace that belonged to Aziraphale rather than his mother. Bookcases were mounted on any available wall, baseboards stripped of their white paint to reveal the warm wood beneath, carpet removed, and boxes unloaded to fill the space with books, knickknacks, vinyl records, and the clutter a lived-in home naturally developed.
There were more things than Crowley was used to having and the few furniture pieces he'd collected clashed horribly with Aziraphale's more antique tastes. It made for an eclectic sort of range of styles, his modern square sofa beside Aziraphale's comfortable and floral patterned chair, but it was home.
And home it would be, Crowley hoped, for a very long time as he tried not to squirm. His stomach was a bundle of worries and knots, the dew that hadn't yet evaporated wetting one of his knees as his fingers nervously dialled the number for the landline that Aziraphale stubbornly kept.
He was humming when he answered, a hand towel still in his grasp after finishing breakfast dishes. As stubbornly as he kept the landline, he avoided the dishwasher. “Hello. Aziraphale speaking.”
“Angel, you're the only one who answers this phone.”
“People who don't live with us wouldn't know that.” Aziraphale’s smile blossomed, always happy to hear from Crowley. “You can't possibly be at work so fast.”
“I'm not,” he confirmed with a shaky laugh. “I'm still home actually and was, ah, hoping you'd play a game with me.”
Aziraphale’s brows drew together. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine, angel. Promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I'm sure! I'm-” Even with the nervous fluttering in his stomach Crowley couldn't help but smile at him through the phone. “I'm tryin' to be cute, here, so are you going to play hide and seek with me or not?”
“Hide and-” Aziraphale huffed lightly, but his lips twitched. “You’re an utter child, darling. Are you hiding?”
“I am. Here at the house, even. You didn't even notice me come back.”
“I have been responsible in cleaning our kitchen, you hooligan.”
Crowley laughed, relaxed by their easy banter. It was always easy with Aziraphale. “You love me being a hooligan.”
“And aren’t you lucky for that?” The laugh at least made Aziraphale feel better about whatever ridiculous notion his alpha had in mind. “Do I get a hint? Did you make it upstairs, you wily demon?”
“No hints, that's not how hide and seek works. You should know this. Shouldn't be that hard to find, though. Not trying as hard as I used to.”
Aziraphale laughed, hips swaying. “Oh, yes. My giggling little Anthony was so difficult to find. Since you’ve already hidden yourself, I’m not counting to ten. I’ll be searching for you directly.”
“That was the point. Not that I wouldn't wait for you, you know that.”
“I know.” Smile softening, Aziraphale neatly folded and set aside the towel. “I’m going to hang up now. I’m sure I’ll see you shortly.”
“You will, I have faith that you'll find me just like old times.”
“Silly boy,” he chided with a smile and returned the phone to its cradle. If it had been cordless, he would’ve carried it through the house as he made a search. As it was, he just had to take a few deep breaths that told him his partner wasn’t nearby. Smoke and apples had blended so well with butterscotch and tea that it was hard to tell sometimes where their scents began and ended, something Aziraphale adored with every fibre of his being. Far from the sterile environment he’d grown up in where scents were doused with sprays or the putrid one Crowley had grown up in, it was settling into a home. A warm, wonderful home Aziraphale loved to be in very much.
He didn’t see his mother anymore as he wandered through the rooms downstairs, confident that he would’ve heard Crowley heading upstairs. Two creaked and were on their list of repairs to be made and Crowley never did seem to remember which creaked and which didn’t. It was a silly, small thing he was going to remember the rest of his life. A silly, small thing among so many such memories he and Crowley had been making together.
Happy memories.
Aziraphale made his way to the garage soon enough, smiling at the Bentley Crowley had been restoring as lovingly as they’d been restoring the house. A quick scour of the garage showed no sign of the ginger, so Aziraphale opened the garage door and stepped into the yard. Little Anthony knew better than to go outside during a game, but Crowley? Aziraphale knew very well how difficult it was to get the man to follow rules.
And he was easy to see in the yard, on one knee, holding a bouquet of pretty yellow blooms Aziraphale wouldn’t have been able to identify even if he hadn’t been utterly charmed. “Oh,” he sighed, crossing through the grass. “You silly thing. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you, obviously.” Crowley's lips twitched at the huff and roll of Aziraphale's eyes he received. “Good job finding me.”
“As you said, I’ve always been able to find you. I found you as soon as I got back into town, after all.” However unintentionally. “You’re getting your trousers wet.”
“Trust me, I am very well aware.” He held out his hand as Aziraphale drew near, fingers a slight tremble when he grasped Aziraphale's hand in his own. “Just wanted to do this properly this time.”
“Do...” It dawned, Aziraphale’s next exhale shaky as he remembered a tightly held bundle of flowers - weeds, really - plucked outside and offered by a very earnest young pup. A very earnest grown alpha was on bended knee now, the blooms certainly not weeds, and Aziraphale’s eyes began to water even as he smiled. “Oh, Crowley...”
Crowley was determined to believe that was a positive reaction. “I made a promise to you twenty years ago. At the time I was too young to really know what that promise meant, what it was supposed to mean. But I know now.” He lifted Aziraphale's hand and kissed his knuckles, heart doing flip-flops in his chest. “And I still want you to marry me, if you'd have me.”
“Do you know I thought you were silly? The sweetest thing, of course, but so silly for making such a lofty promise so young.” When he'd so recently been treated like someone who was damaged and would never be whole. “How silly I was for doubting my little Anthony. My favourite Crowley.”
“That's right. Shouldn't ever doubt me, not when it comes to how I feel about you.”
“I won't. Not ever again, darling, because of course I'll marry you.”
“Oh, good.” The tension Crowley had been holding in his shoulder dropped immediately. “Was startin' to worry I'd misread things.”
“No. I have a promise to keep too, after all. I believe I said I'd marry you even if you weren't an alpha. How lucky that we somehow got everything we wanted.” Aziraphale smiled, giving his hand a tug. “Or would be if you were kissing me right now.”
Crowley laughed, more light and genuine than the last few times, as he let Aziraphale guide him to standing. The hand holding the little bouquet of flowers went around Aziraphale's waist, pulling him flush and capturing his mouth in a smooth, practised motion.
The giddy sound Aziraphale made was muffled in it, hands lifting to disappear into his hair and curl into his shirt. He'd thought twenty years before that such a simple proposal wasn't how it was done, but he knew better now. It was done however they wanted, and this was perfect.
“I love you,” he purred.
“I love you too. More than anything.” He loved Aziraphale's purrs and his fussiness and the adorable way he scrunched his nose when he heard or read something he didn't like. He loved more things about him than he could possibly say.
They'd loved each other for decades, though that love had evolved from childish adoration to yearning to something that would hold them together through the rest of their lives.
On their shelves upstairs, in a place of honour amongst Aziraphale's most cherished books, was a well-worn copy of Alice in Wonderland with a handwritten note on the inside flap.
You'll always be my favourite. I love you. - Aziraphale