New Year's Eve
“I’m not sure about this, Crowley.”
Aziraphale looked up at him, brow furrowed. He couldn't repress a smile, though. Crowley so rarely asked him for anything, and such a small, simple thing too. Of course Aziraphale was going to say yes. Now they were free and clear of their previous sides, Crowley rather enjoyed persuading him into things (some decidedly more innocent than others), and Aziraphale was always more than happy to indulge the demon in his favourite forms of temptation.
Crowley gave him that star-searing smile.
“You can hold me close and pretend it’s just for balanssssse.”
The last word was hissed in his ear, a sure promise of a greater reward later that night.
“Come on then, you wily old serpent. But you are treating me to cocoa.”
The twinkling lights reflected on the ice and the scent of cinnamon and orange in the air filled Aziraphale with joy. All around them couples laughed together while children tugged on their parents' hands and begged to visit Santa in his grotto.
Doubts forgotten, the angel quickly fastened his skates. The excitement of Crowley suggesting an outing and choosing the activity, feeling safe to ask for what he wanted, warmed him more than any mulled wine. Crowley was watching him with that indulgent smile, and Aziraphale felt his cheeks grow pink.
He got unsteadily to his feet, gripping Crowley’s arm for balance.
“If I can dance the gavotte I can most certainly figure this out.”
He said firmly, trying not to think of the other times he and Crowley had tried to skate, and he'd proven himself a most inelegant participant. Thankfully Crowley’s serpentine tendencies gifted him with the ability to glide and turn easily, shifting his weight as his skates swooshed over the ice. He took Aziraphale‘ arm, steering him carefully. They continued in companionable silence, swishing their way across the ice, the New Year's Eve air peppering Aziraphale’s face with little stinging kisses.
At first Aziraphale thought Crowley was staying alert to ensure his angel didn’t slip on the ice. Then he noticed the tell-tale signs. Looking at the excitable Hogmanay crowd as if examining every face. Skating a smooth circle around him, patrolling. The tiny almost imperceptible flinch when a raucous reveller shouted a little too loudly.
Aziraphale put his hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of the expensive black wool coat. The demon halted at the touch, then watched in bemusement as the angel skated a wobbly circle around him. It had the desired effect, eliciting an amused snort. Aziraphale stopped in front of his demonic husbnad, taking both gloved hands in his and gazing earnestly, leaning so close the chilly tips of their noses touched.
“You don’t have to do that anymore.”
Even behind the dark glasses he could see the realisation dawn in Crowley’s eyes, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. Aziraphale had a heartbeat to consider that Crowley wrapped up against the cold, with the colourful lights catching his flame red hair and lending it multiple hues, was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld. Then the demon was kissing him and laughing for joy against him. Aziraphale sighed at the feel of his lips warming his own as they both leaned into a kiss of freedom, cupping each other’s faces as skaters swirled around them, his heart swelling as he thought about the many years of Christmasses that had led them to this point, to this new life.