For The Love Of Talent

Asa had fallen asleep on the couch and Anthony, who had just finished grading his papers, was emptying the wastebasket when he spotted those words written on a crumpled piece of paper. He immediately recognized Asa’s handwriting. Setting the wastebasket down, he sat against the wall with the crumpled paper in his hands.

Slowly unfolding it, he carefully smoothed it out with his hand and began to read.

Dear Anthony,

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you a letter when I have much more modern ways to communicate. Or even talk to you. But, as you always say, my slightly old-fashioned side is part of my charm. So what could be more old-fashioned than writing my thoughts down with one of my quill pens?

Anthony smiled tenderly as he ran his fingertips over the words. The old-fashioned nature of certain aspects of Asa’s life was indeed one of his many charms.

Anthony, when you walked into the bookshop, nothing could have prepared me for you. You could say I wasn’t expecting you, or us.

When Derek encouraged me to go after you, I didn’t expect you to come halfway toward me. Honestly, I didn’t expect us to have dinner together, let alone end up where we are today.

I didn’t expect to find a second home.

I’m grateful for many things in my life: for Derek, who looked out for me when I had no one else; for my job, which brings me so much joy; for all the small joys that life brings me daily; for the pastry chefs who are always creating new desserts

Anthony couldn't help but chuckle softly. Asa's love of food, especially sweets, was endearing. It was another one of his many charms, along with his endless capacity to rejoice in the little things that often went unnoticed by others.

and above all, I'm grateful that you love me.

Thank you for loving me, my dear, dear love.

Anthony was almost breathless at this outpouring of love on paper. 

Then, he felt slightly uncomfortable, realizing that what he was reading wasn’t meant to be seen. After all, he’d found it in the trash, meaning Asa hadn’t intended to send it to him.

But there it was, on paper, his lover opening up to him in a way he’d never seen before. Despite his unease, he really wanted to keep reading.

I can hardly believe I'm writing this, but it's true, even if it sounds incredibly sentimental. 

I love being the last person you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. I also love that you're the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night before closing my eyes.

You’re strong, and I know I can lean on you when I’m weak. But I’m also glad you show me your vulnerabilities. I’m glad to be the only one who knows when you’re hurting, afraid, or doubting yourself. Thank you for letting me be your strength, support, and comfort in those moments. 

I have so much to tell you; a lifetime wouldn't be enough.

Sometimes I wish we had met much sooner so we could have spent even more time together. But then we wouldn't have become who we are today. Besides, it means we have to make the most of all the time we’ve been given.

I could go on and on about how much I love you, but it would take ten pages to explain the depth of my feelings and the reasons behind them. Now that I’ve reached the end of this page, I realize that's an absurd idea. 

I'm going to throw this piece of paper away and tell you all this in person when I have the courage. Not if, but when. 

That courage you gave me the day we met. 

The courage to run after you.

I love you more than anything.

Your Asa.

Anthony dropped the hand holding the letter and leaned his head back against the wall. His cheeks flushed as a gentle smile spread across his lips.

Asa...

Only someone like him could write something like that and make it so endearing. His sweet bookseller.

Anthony stood up, carefully folded the sheet of paper, and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. He walked toward the living room and called softly, "Asa?"

There was no answer; Asa must still be asleep. 

He entered the room and approached the couch.

His lover was lying on his back and seemed to be still asleep. Anthony couldn’t help but smile tenderly as Asa’s words echoed in his mind.

I love you more than anything.

Your Asa.

He approached silently and knelt down beside Asa’s head. Reaching out, he gently ran his fingers through his lover’s slightly tousled hair. Asa smiled and opened and closed his eyes several times to adjust to the light, slowly emerging from sleep. He turned his head toward Anthony and nestled against the hand stroking his hair.

When his gaze met Anthony’s, now very close, his smile widened.

"Anthony?"

"Shh..." Anthony placed a finger on Asa’s mouth before speaking, his gaze locked on Asa’s.

"My dear Asa, I received your letter, and you were right. At first, I wondered what had come over you. But it only took a few words for me to stop asking myself that question."

Asa's eyes widened, and he began to fidget. "How..."

Anthony shook his head, stroked Asa's hair soothingly, and continued, "Let me finish, will you?" 

"The first thing I felt after reading your letter was your love. You say that I gave you a second home, but you’ve done the same for me. Without you here, it wouldn't feel like home. I have my parents, of course, but when I think of ‘home,’ I think of you sitting on my couch reading while I prepare for class. When I think of 'home,' I think of you picking me up after class. When I think of ‘home’, I think of me looking for you at the end of your workday at the bookshop. When I think of ‘home’, I think of our evenings with our friends. When I think of ‘home’, I think of you asleep in our sheets, right after we’ve made love."

Anthony paused and pressed a long kiss on Asa’s forehead. Then he continued, "You bring me joy, Asa. You make me smile when I can’t do it on my own. I’m not afraid of failing because I know you’ll be there to catch me. When a challenge seems insurmountable, you’re the one who gives me the strength to keep going. I love that we take care of each other and can count on each other. I love that you need me and aren't afraid to show it. Finally, I’m going to be as sentimental as you. I also love that you’re the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning and the last thing I see when I close them at night."

Anthony leaned in and whispered against Asa’s lips, "I also love you..." He brushed a light kiss against his lover's lips and added softly, "More than anything." 

With shining eyes, Asa whispered, "My Anthony," and pulled him close, pressing his lips against Anthony’s. They shared a lingering kiss. 

Then, Anthony pulled back slightly and said to Asa in a playful tone, "I'll wait for you." Asa noticed that his lover was using the same words as when they first met. 

Anthony, always waiting for him. 

At his pace. 

Asa gently stroked Anthony's cheek with his knuckles as his lover said, "Until you tell me all of this in your own voice."

Asa smiled and replied softly, "I promise I will. Soon." 

Then, he leaned in to kiss Anthony, expressing through the kiss everything he couldn’t put into words. For now.

_________

Still not beta'd (because I want it so)

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

The wind was cold and biting, something Asa hated. But having Anthony by his side made it bearable. His warm hand in Asa’s almost made him forget the cold.

They had gone out to dinner at the Dirty Donkey and were now walking back to Asa’s apartment. 

Asa stole what he thought was a discreet glance at his lover, admiring his handsome features, which he never grew tired of. Even though they’d been together for six months, he still found himself wondering how he could have been so lucky to meet the man walking beside him.

Asa glanced again at Anthony’s hair, ruffled slightly by the wind, whose beautiful, warm color shone in the light of the streetlamps. His eyes drifted to the soft smile on his lips.

"Asa?"

Anthony’s voice snapped Asa out of his thoughts. He looked up at Anthony. His lover's smile took on a slightly more playful edge when he stopped, forcing Asa to stop as well.

"Yes?"

Anthony turned fully toward Asa, a slight, teasing smile on his lips. "Are you going to keep checking me out like that the whole way?"

Asa felt his cheeks flush and gave Anthony a light tap on the shoulder.

"So what? Am I not allowed to stare at my partner?" 

No matter how nonchalant he tried to seem, he knew he’d been caught red-handed.

Anthony chuckled softly, lifted Asa’s hand, which was still in his, and gently kissed his knuckles. Then he said, "You're really too adorable, you know."

Asa pouted, making Anthony laugh even more. 

When he calmed down, he added, "It doesn't bother me. I’m always checking you out, too; you just don’t notice."

"Of course. You’re checking me out. Do you think I’m going to believe you?"

Anthony's cheeks flushed slightly as he replied, "Ask Derek. He's caught me red-handed more than once."

"Are you kidding?"

Anthony shook his head, looking sheepish. "I wish I were. But no. In fact, he never misses a chance to tease me about it when you’re not looking."

"But what is there to check out about me?"

Anthony glanced around to make sure no one else was on the street. Then he wrapped his arms around Asa and whispered in his ear, "Lots of things, and some that decency prevents me from revealing here."

Asa started laughing against him.

"You idiot!"

He tried to pull away, but Anthony tightened his embrace and slid his hands down Asa's back to his buttocks, applying just a little pressure.

"Professor Anthony Crowley, you're going to stop that right now!"

Anthony let go of his lover and laughed, pleased with his little joke.

Seeing him laugh like that, Asa couldn’t stay mad at him. It was such a joy to see him like that, just like on the first day, when he’d accepted his invitation to dinner.

Asa said softly, "Actually, you’re the one who’s adorable."

Anthony shook his head and, stopping his laughter, said, "Oh no, you're the cute bookseller, my angel."

He wrapped his hand firmly around Asa’s neck and ran his fingers through his soft hair. He pulled his lover closer, closing the remaining distance between them. Asa let out a small cry of surprise, immediately muffled by the touch of Anthony’s lips, before eagerly returning the kiss. As soon as Anthony’s tongue brushed the curve of Asa’s lips, Asa parted them slightly, inviting Anthony to deepen the kiss. When their breaths mingled, Asa let out a soft, muffled moan. In response, Anthony’s hands slid down Asa’s back and pulled him close, closing the distance between their bodies. For a moment, they forgot about the world, the street, the few passing cars, and the wind that was still creeping into the folds of their clothes. 

Only when they pulled apart to catch their breath did they become aware of where they were, and they laughed softly.

Anthony said, panting, "How about we continue at home?"

Asa nodded.

"Well, boys, it's about time. I thought I was going to have to call the police for indecent exposure in a public place."

Asa and Anthony spun around and saw Derek coming up right behind them. 

"Don't look so embarrassed. It’s just me. Besides, it’s Pride Month, so if you can’t do this now, when’s a better time?"

He winked at them and kept walking, teasing, "But you’re right; you should really continue at home."

"Derek!"

Derek walked past them, chuckling. The two men heard him add, "Ah, to be young again and relive this." He waved and continued, "Enjoy it, boys. Enjoy it!"

They watched him disappear around the corner.

"Shall we go home?"

Anthony nodded and replied in a teasing tone, "If you want to keep going, my angel, we'd better."

Asa grabbed the lapel of Anthony’s jacket and pulled him toward him abruptly. He pressed a long, slower kiss on his lover's lips, full of promise rather than haste. 

"I want to keep going," Asa murmured against his mouth. "As our old friend said, let's enjoy ourselves." 

He took Anthony’s hand, and they almost broke into a run, laughing knowingly. 

When they reached the apartment door, calm returned, charged with electric anticipation. Anthony closed and locked the door behind them, shutting out the outside world. Then, he turned to Asa, who was waiting for him in the middle of the room. 

Asa approached Anthony and, with a slow, deliberate motion, began to unbutton the top button of his shirt. They never took their eyes off each other. 

"Derek really gives good advice," Anthony joked, his breathing becoming ragged as Asa planted light kisses in the crook of his neck.

"So let's do what he said and enjoy ourselves," Asa whispered against his lover's neck. 

Anthony didn’t need to be asked twice. He pushed Asa back until his legs hit the edge of the couch. They collapsed there in a tangle of limbs and sighs.

Much later, in the silence of the night, Asa lay against Anthony and listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.  Anthony shifted slightly and wrapped an arm around Asa’s waist, pulling him closer. 

"Are you asleep?" he whispered.

"No," Asa replied, pressing a kiss to his lover's chest. "I’m just enjoying the moment."

A faint smile touched Anthony’s lips in the darkness. He murmured, "Thank you, Derek."

A soft laugh answered him.

He kissed his lover's head, pulled the blanket over their entwined bodies, and they both drifted into a gentle slumber, lulled by the tenderness of the moment.

_________

Still not beta'd (because I want it so)

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

Anthony replied softly, "I remember you. You were always alone. You watched the others from the sidelines."

Aziraphale let out a small, bitter laugh. "My father...well, let's just say he wasn't cut out to be a father. Maybe I wasn’t the son he wanted." 

He lowered his head into his hands and continued, "From a very young age, I learned that talking was useless. Asking for anything was pointless. Even crying wasn’t tolerated."

"Was he violent?" Anthony asked cautiously, fearing the answer.

Aziraphale slowly shook his head and replied, "He never laid a hand on me. But his words were just as hurtful as if he had."

Aziraphale lifted his chin and met Anthony’s gaze for the first time since he started speaking.

"He never thought I was good enough. He criticized my sensitivity, my gentleness, my weight, and the fact that I loved to read. In short, he criticized everything that made me... me. When you left, it got worse."

Anthony’s throat tightened; he felt guilty for not having noticed, even though they were just children. 

Aziraphale continued, "Then, as a teenager, he found out that I was attracted to boys." After swallowing several times, he continued, "From then on, everything became an excuse to belittle me even more. He used it to justify his relentless, petty attacks on me. That’s when I started saving every penny I could so that I could leave as soon as possible. I did just that when I turned eighteen, leaving only a letter for my mother and never looking back."

Anthony gently placed his hand on his friend’s knee and felt a slight tremor beneath his palm.

"It must have been so hard," he murmured. "Leaving your home, your mother..."

Aziraphale shook his head. "It wasn't a home. It wasn’t until I came to live with my grandfather that I knew what it was like to have a home, a place that felt good to come back to. He was my mother's father and didn't like my father, which is why my mother had cut ties with him. Aside from the time I spent with you, I spent the best years of my life with him. He never judged me when I came out to him and always encouraged me in my life choices. I never tried to see my parents again. Little by little, I healed with my new life. Now, I am who I am, and no one holds it against me. No one who matters, anyway."

After a moment of silence, Anthony said gently, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

Aziraphale shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry. You couldn’t have done anything differently. We were just kids."

Anthony replied, "Maybe, but you didn't have to go through all this alone. I can't undo what you went through, but I would like to do something now. Would you let me do what I would have done if I’d been there and known what you were going through?"

Aziraphale nodded, a puzzled look on his face. "Go ahead."

Anthony came closer, wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, and held him close.

He whispered into his hair, "I would have held you in my arms and held you close until you felt better."

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his friend’s waist and laughed softly. "That might—or at least could have—taken a long time."

"That's fine with me."

Aziraphale snuggled closer to him, and they sank into the couch together.

Anthony said softly, "You can be proud of the life you've built for yourself, of who you were as a child, and of who you've become. I’m proud to have been, and still to be, your friend."

Aziraphale swallowed before replying in a muffled voice against his friend’s chest, "Thank you."

They remained embraced in a comfortable silence for a long time, with Anthony occasionally stroking Aziraphale’s hair and back.

Then, Aziraphale felt Anthony hesitate before asking softly, "Have you ever had anyone in your life?"

Aziraphale lifted his head and replied, "No, never. Just one-night stands or flings, just to scratch an itch. Nothing long-term."

Anthony asked, genuinely curious, "By choice?"

Aziraphale replied with a self-deprecating air. "Yes, because there’s no guarantee the person won’t change. My mother used to tell me that before I was born, my father hadn’t always been... like that." 

He sat up, forcing Anthony to let go of him. Rubbing his hands together, he added, "I sometimes wonder if it’s my fault. If I had been different, maybe he would have remained the man my mother knew. Maybe it was something in me that made him become—"

He couldn't continue because Anthony had placed a finger over his mouth.

"Oh, no! Don't finish that sentence. What your father became has nothing to do with you. You’re not responsible for how he saw things or how he saw you. You were just fine the way you were, and..." He grabbed his friend’s chin, lifting it toward him and forcing him to look at him. "... you're just fine the way you are now. You’re still the kindest person I’ve ever met. The little boy I remember... he has grown into an amazing man."

Aziraphale’s shoulders tensed, and he shook his head. "I don’t…"  

"It’s the truth. The other teachers, the students, everyone I know who knows you, can’t stop praising you. Those are the people you need to believe," Anthony insisted, his warm fingers against Aziraphale’s skin. 

"As for me, I can show you. I can show you how I find you amazing."

His thumb gently brushed against his friend’s lips, drawing a small gasp from Aziraphale who whispered, "How?"

Anthony leaned toward Aziraphale, his warm breath brushing against his face. He pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s and asked in an almost reverent tone, "May I?"  

Aziraphale swallowed, locked eyes with Anthony, and whispered, "Yes."

Anthony’s lips brushed against Aziraphale’s in a hesitant gesture, a delicate exploration that gave Aziraphale the chance to pull away. But he did not take the opportunity. On the contrary, he parted his lips in a silent, unmistakable invitation.

The kiss quickly deepened, shifting from a timid question to a passionate affirmation. Anthony’s hand slid down Aziraphale’s cheek. The tip of his thumb traced the line of his jaw before burying itself in the light curls at the nape of his neck. Anthony pulled Aziraphale closer until all distance vanished, then his lips seized Aziraphale's lips with new and insistent fervor.

Aziraphale’s hands wrapped around Anthony’s neck, his grip tightening as if he feared that, if he let go, the dream would fade away. Anthony returned the kiss with equal intensity. 

Anthony seemed determined to dispel any lingering doubt in Aziraphale’s mind. He made the kiss linger, again and again, barely giving Aziraphale time to catch his breath before claiming his lips once more. He poured all his devotion, admiration, and affection for his friend into it. 

When they finally parted, they remained entwined, foreheads touching, panting. The silence was broken only by their ragged breathing.

Anthony didn’t pull away. His hand remained firmly on Aziraphale’s scalp, his thumb tracing small, gentle circles on his temple. His gaze remained fixed on Aziraphale’s.

"Do you believe me?" 

His voice was breathless and tinged with a sincerity that tugged at Aziraphale’s heart. "Do you believe me when I tell you that you’re an amazing person?"

After swallowing several times, Aziraphale whispered, "I think... I think I'm starting to believe you."

Anthony smiled and said, "That's good, then," as he leaned in again. This time, it wasn't for a kiss, but rather to bury his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck and hold him close. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth several times, but before he could say anything, Anthony sat up, gently kissed his forehead, and said softly, "Whatever you were going to say, if it’s an apology, it’s not necessary. You don’t have to apologize."

Aziraphale shook his head and laughed softly. "Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t trying to apologize."

Anthony raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe a little, for my crying and all." Seeing Anthony begin to protest, Aziraphale continued, his voice dropping a notch as he grew more serious. "But most of all, I want to thank you. For your comfort, but also for being you all those years ago. For being that memory that kept me going. You say you weren’t there, but you were, always there, like a force pushing me forward. You’re amazing, too, you know."

Overcome with emotion, Aziraphale leaned forward and gently kissed his lover, their lips meeting in a more tender embrace than before. It was a blend of joy and gratitude and a feeling that was far too premature to name yet undeniable in its intensity. The kiss lingered until they had to catch their breath again.

Aziraphale pulled back slightly, then snuggled up against Anthony again. They sat in silence for a long time, simply being. 

After a moment, Aziraphale asked softly, in a barely audible voice, "Anthony, the two of us now… where do we go from here?"