She/Her - 45+ - Nerd, geek, artist, wonky writer without skill, mole in hibernation most of the time, has for companions a husband and a piano, Obsessed those days with The Ineffable Husbands, and that’s all for now Whoever you are, you're welcome in my space. I swear it’s safe 🫶🏻
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Asa, a lonely underground worker, saves Gabriel, a handsome man who has fascinated him for months, by pulling him out of the path of an oncoming train at the last possible moment. At the hospital, the doctors inform Asa that Gabriel is in a coma.
A clumsy remark leads Gabriel’s family to believe that Asa is the young man's fiancé. Asa does not correct them, and they welcome him into their home and place their trust in him. The situation becomes even more complicated when Asa begins to develop feelings for Anthony, Gabriel’s adopted brother.
Notes
Welcome to a 'While You Were Sleeping' AU! I hope you enjoy the journey with me!
On Ao3
Rating G - 2623 words
There are two things I remember from my childhood.
First, I remember spending time with my father. Sometimes he would stare off into the distance and say, "Asa, my boy, life doesn't always go as planned."
If only I had understood back then that he was talking about my own life!
But that never stopped us from going on adventures together.
He’d load up our car, which sometimes worked, and tell me incredible, mysterious stories about cities like Florence, Paris or Athens while we drove toward exciting destinations like Old Amersham.
It’s funny when you think about it because there's nothing exceptionally mysterious about Buckinghamshire. I mean, it’s pretty, but it isn't...well, you know what I mean.
My favorite memories are the stories my father used to tell me about my mother.
He would take me to the church where they got married, and I would beg him to tell me more about the ceremony, the music, their vows, the reception, and the dancing.
One day, I asked my father when he knew he truly loved my mother.
He replied, "Asa, your mother gave me an extraordinary gift. She gave me the world."
In reality, it was a map of the world enclosed in a sort of snow globe.
But to the romantic he was, it was as if it were the whole world.
Then he added, "Above all, on the day we first met, I heard Vera Lynn sing 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square.'"
Well, when I first saw him, he didn't give me much.
He gave me £2.80.
The price of a tube ticket.
But I looked forward to it every single day.
He visited my ticket booth between 8:00 and 8:10 am every morning, from Monday to Friday.
He was just perfect.
Too perfect.
Like a Prince Charming.
We never really spoke, but I know that one day we will.
I know it. I’m sure of it.
I’ll find a way to introduce myself one day, and it will be perfect.
Just like my prince.
Asa, forty years old, was sitting in his booth handing out tickets to Tube passengers. He was lost in thought. He still hadn’t heard 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square', but when he saw that man, he thought that perhaps he would be the one to introduce him to the song.
The man was breathtakingly handsome, descending the stairs with a confident stride. He wore a cashmere overcoat over a finely striped Armani suit, carrying his briefcase with style.
He had distinctive features: a square jaw and eyes that would make any movie star green with envy. But for Asa, he was just too much: too well-groomed, too strong and too brilliant.
And then there was his smile. Did he have a brother? Maybe someone more in Asa’s league?
In any case, there was something about this man that intrigued Asa.
Perhaps it was the fact that, looking as wealthy as he did, there was no need to go to the trouble of buying a ticket every day when he could likely have afforded a pass.
Asa didn't mind, though; it provided him with some morning entertainment.
He started stopping by Asa’s booth in September.
He came by between 8:00 and 8:10 am, Monday to Friday.
One Monday, however, he didn’t show up, and Asa got worried. But it was a public holiday, so he came back the following morning.
He walked up to the booth and put £2.80 in the slot.
Asa smiled and gave him a token in return. The handsome man picked it up without looking at it and walked through the gate. Although he hadn’t really spoken to him, Asa knew that one day he would. If only to hear his voice.
He got on the Underground. Asa watched him until the train left the station and sighed.
"He's just too perfect."
Snow fell gently on the city, clinging to the branches of the trees and the rooftops.
Christmas decorations hung along Wicker Street, while the North Star twinkled above the imposing silhouette of Big Ben.
A children’s choir singing Christmas carols on the street corner completed the festive atmosphere.
But Asa was completely oblivious to the Christmas spirit at that very moment, even though his actions were a result of it. He was clutching a rope running through his living room window with all his might; a Christmas tree hung from the other end.
“Ho-heave!”
Asa tugged on the rope and the tree rose a few centimetres. He did this repeatedly until the tree reached the window frame.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he grumbled, "£60 for a Christmas tree, and they don't even deliver it. But if you order £14 worth of dim sum from Yeye Dumpling, they’ll deliver it right to your door.”
Asa gave it another tug, but the tree just swayed in the air without moving an inch. He continued to grumble. “I should’ve got a blue spruce, they’re lighter. And of course you’re not going to help me, are you, Harry?"
The sound of little footsteps approaching made him look down at his rabbit, which had just come over when he called its name.
Asa huffed loudly as he pulled on the rope and finally the tip of the tree was within reach. Still holding the rope, Asa stretched out his hand to grab it, but suddenly Harry slipped between his legs, causing him to stumble.
“Harry! Damn it!”
Harry spun around, skidding on his paws, and dashed into the kitchen at full speed. Losing his balance, Asa was dragged along by the tree and struggled to hold onto the rope without falling out of the window.
He kept repeating to himself, "Don't look down! Don’t look down!" as he tried to pull the rope back down. The tree swayed again and, with no strength left to support its weight, Asa had no choice but to let go. He closed his eyes as he heard the crash of shattering glass. The tree had just crashed through the ground-floor apartment window.
“Asa!”
A little while later, Asa stood nervously in the apartment of his landlord, Mr Brown Senior. Harry was hiding behind his legs.
The landlord had covered the broken window with a plastic sheet and was sitting at his desk filling out insurance claim forms. He read aloud, "'Nature of the damage: a Christmas tree crashed through the window.’ How am I going to explain this to my insurance company?”
Asa looked down, embarrassed, as the landlord continued, “They’re still furious about that fire I started in my old building.”
Asa replied softly, "I’ll pay for the repairs, Mr Brown. Don’t worry."
The landlord ran his hand through his hair and asked, "Why didn’t you bring it up the stairs?"
Asa shrugged.
"I couldn't carry it by myself, and you don't like pine needles in the hallway. I’m sorry.”
Mr Brown Sr patted him on the arm and said, “It’s no big deal, Asa. My brother works in construction, so he’ll figure something out.”
“Sorry again.”
Asa was about to leave when he suddenly exclaimed, “I almost forgot!”
He took a small gift out of his pocket and handed it to the landlord. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Brown.”
The store owner replied, surprised, “Asa, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
Mr Brown now looked embarrassed.
“I haven’t done my Christmas shopping yet. What the…'
“Hey, Dad, can I give the bottle of gin your cousin gave you to my assistant at the shop?”
It was Brown Junior, also known as Tim, the landlord’s son and owner of a rug and carpet store.
“Junior, can’t you see I’m talking to someone?”
Asa opened the door to leave.
“ You know, Asa, you’re a good guy, and Timmy is… well, just like you, and he’s still single.”
Asa held back a sigh and looked at Brown Junior. Tim was raising his eyebrows suggestively while smoothing his moustache in his ever-present orange shirt, which he must have thought matched his hair. What a terrible fashion choice.
Holding back what he really felt, Asa replied in a polite voice, “Really? That’s surprising. Well, I’m leaving now, Harry’s hungry. Good night.”
The two men replied in unison, “Good night, Asa.”
Asa smiled until he had closed the door behind him, then sighed once he was alone. He picked up Harry, who had followed him.
He muttered, "If you try to set me up with Brown Jr. again, I'm getting a cat."
Harry wrinkled his nose in protest and jumped out of his arms. Once home, Asa went through his post. He found a Christmas card and turned it over to read the message: 'Happy Holidays from your mail carrier.'
He carefully placed it on his shelf next to the Christmas cards from the binman, the phone company and the florist. He found a vinyl record of Christmas carols, put it on his old gramophone and opened a box of decorations. He began to decorate his slightly battered Christmas tree. He took a golden garland out of the box and draped it over the tree's branches. Asa wondered if it mattered to decorate the tree, since he was going to be alone at Christmas anyway.
The next day, Asa was sitting in the tea room that he visited every day after his morning shift, which he worked almost every day of the week. A waitress crossed the bustling room and walked past him. Asa opened his book pocket and took out a stack of travel brochures. The colourful brochures advertised all kinds of destinations, from European castles to the sandy beaches of the Caribbean. He carefully spread them out on the table.
“Have you made your choice?” asked the waitress.
“The usual,” replied Asa.
“What’s that?”
Asa sighed.
'“A cup of Earl Grey and the dessert of the day.”
The waitress jotted something down in her notepad and walked away. A faint sound caught Asa’s attention and he turned towards the window. It was his boss, Nina, knocking on the window.
Asa quickly gathered his brochures and slipped them into his bag. Nina sat down opposite him and blew on her hands to warm them.
“I expected to find you here.”
Asa shrugged and replied, “And I was expecting you to find me in an art museum in Florence.”
Ignoring his response, Nina leaned in slightly towards Asa and said with an inviting smile, “I nominated you for Employee of the Month.”
Surprised, Asa smiled and replied, “I didn’t even know there was an award for that.”
The waitress approached them and Nina immediately ordered, “The usual.”
The waitress nodded and walked away. Asa frowned, but he couldn't dwell on it as Nina pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and began reading aloud: "Supervisor Nina Service nominates Mr Asa Fell as Employee of the Month. Mr Fell is never late and always works on public holidays, even if he has already worked the previous one. Since he worked on Thanksgiving, he is willing to work on Christmas as well."
Asa interrupted, “I don’t work on Christmas.”
“They’re giving you a plaque signed by the mayor.”
“I didn’t vote for him.”
“More paid days off.”
“You still haven’t convinced me.”
Encouragingly, Nina added, “And you’ll get a day off for your birthday.”
“My birthday is on Christmas.”
Nina folded the piece of paper and slipped it back into her pocket. In a slightly pleading tone, she said, “Listen, I know you worked on Thanksgiving. But I’ve been invited to my mum's house. Miranda can’t cover for me because she’s hosting a big family gathering, and I promised I’d be there this year.”
“Nina, that’s not fair!”
"I know, I know," Nina replied, patting Asa's arm. "It's not fair, and I can't make you do it, but... you're the only one who..."
Nina paused, looking embarrassed.
Asa finished her sentence for her, "I’m the only one who doesn’t have a family."
On Christmas Day, Asa sat in his booth, thinking melancholically about that conversation. He hadn’t been able to refuse, and now he was staring into space because it was obvious that there wouldn’t be many people around on Christmas Day.
A train pulled into the station with a dull thud. The doors opened. A young couple stepped off, laughing and laden with Christmas gifts. Another family emerged from a different carriage and pushed open the swing doors to leave the platform; the children walked in single file like ducklings.
Asa remained seated in his booth, looking dejected. The warm voice of Nat King Cole singing 'The Christmas Song' offered him no comfort; in fact, it only deepened his melancholy since the song was about everything he didn't have.
He felt a lump form in his throat. All around him, people were celebrating the joy of spending Christmas with their families, making his own loneliness feel even heavier. He sighed and lowered his head when he saw a hand slip some money under the window. On autopilot, he held out a ticket.
“Merry Christmas.”
Asa looked up. This was the first person to speak to him like that since he started work that morning.
It was 'Mr Handsome', wearing a cashmere coat and standing on the other side of the glass. He smiled at Asa. The entire station seemed to light up.
Stunned, Asa stood there, speechless.
Mr Handsome took his ticket and disappeared in an instant.
Asa let his head fall onto his crossed arms and muttered, “Four months—I’ve been waiting for this moment for four months. I haven’t taken a single sick day. I could have said, ‘Merry Christmas,’ or ‘You’re really handsome,’ or ‘A little too handsome,’ or ‘Don’t you have a brother?’ But I didn’t say a thing!”
Asa slapped his forehead several times.
“Idiot, idiot, idiot!”
Suddenly, he heard a scream. Looking through the window, he saw Mr Handsome being attacked by two men. Just as he was about to pick up the phone, he saw the man lose his balance and fall backwards off the platform.
“Oh my God!”
He dropped the phone and rushed out of the booth. After frantically swiping his pass, he managed to get through the gate. He ran through the gate and dashed along the tracks.
Suddenly, he saw the headlights of an oncoming train appear in the tunnel.
“A train’s coming!” he shouted. Get up!”
Asa jumped off the platform and ran towards the man lying on the ground. He crouched down beside him once he reached him.
The train’s horn blared.
“Sir! Can you hear me?! A train’s coming!”
The man opened his eyes, looking dazed. He looked at Asa before losing consciousness again.
Asa stood up and called out, “Help! Help!”
But the platform was deserted.
The horn blared again.
Asa watched the approaching train and the helpless man. He tried to lift him, but he was heavy and his coat got caught.
Asa pulled with all his might, tearing the coat apart. He then lay down on top of the man, wrapped his arms around him and rolled to the side with him just in time, taking refuge in the safety niche used by workers when trains passed. He felt the rush of air from the passing train and opened his eyes. They were safe and sound.
'Mr Handsome' was still unconscious.
Asa stared at him and mumbled, “Even unconscious, you look handsome.”
He was just too perfect. Suddenly, 'Mr Handsome' opened his eyes slightly and blinked several times.
Asa sighed with relief and said to the man, who wasn’t quite awake yet, “You’d better have a brother, and he’d better be hot!
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Aziraphale revealed to Anthony that Ethan is not his son. What is the truth behind the lie?
Notes
Time to say good by to our lovely guys. I Hope you enjoyed this little story as well.
On Ao3
Rating G - 1388
Masterpost : here
Finally, feeling secure in Anthony's arms, Aziraphale found the courage to tell him.
To confess his greatest secret.
He whispered into Anthony’s chest, "Ethan isn't my son."
He could hear Anthony gasping.
"What did you say?"
Aziraphale sat up a little and repeated, "Ethan isn’t my son. I mean, he’s not my biological son."
Aziraphale shifted a little back to get a better look at Anthony’s face as he continued, "Ethan’s mother was my cousin. My cousin, her husband, and her parents died in a car accident. Ethan was the only one who survived because my cousin and her husband shielded him with their bodies."
Anthony lay a hand on Aziraphale's knee and said softly, "I am so sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
Anthony asked gently, "So your wife wasn’t Ethan’s mother."
Aziraphale shook his head.
"No, I've never been married. I’ve only ever had one girlfriend, and the circumstances weren't conducive to a relationship. Then there was Ethan. When a single person suddenly takes in a child, it’s bound to cause a stir. I was often on my guard, and after that, I just didn’t know when the right time was to bring it up. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you the truth."
Feeling a little ashamed for having sort of lied to Anthony all this time, Aziraphale lowered his head.
But Anthony gently took his chin between his fingers and said softly, "Please, lift your head. I don't blame you. You did what you thought was best to protect your son."
Aziraphale swallowed hard. Hearing Anthony refer to Ethan as his son, even after his revelations, moved and delighted him.
Anthony took then Aziraphale’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and asked gently, "How did you come to take Ethan in?"
"Well, I couldn't bear the thought of Ethan suddenly finding himself alone. After all, I had just lost the grandparents who raised me, and I found myself alone, too."
Anthony said with undisguised admiration, "That's amazing. I don’t think that’s a decision just anyone could make. It's difficult enough alone. When I see how I struggle sometimes, even on my own..."
Aziraphale laughed softly and said, "Are you kidding me, you’ve helped Ethan and me a lot, you know."
He squeezed Anthony’s hand and continued, "Actually, I was the one who couldn't manage my own life. Both of my grandparents were sick at the end of their lives, and taking care of them was difficult. At that time, I was also being harassed terribly at work, and I felt like I was on the verge of breaking down."
Anthony listened intently, saddened by what Aziraphale had gone through, and touched that he had opened up to him and let him see his vulnerability.
"It was my cousin who helped me. She made sure I could get social services for my grandparents, and I’m infinitely grateful to her. She let me hold Ethan in my arms. His warmth and smile really gave me courage again."
Anthony nodded.
"So, Ethan’s smile has been the source of your drive all this time."
Aziraphale nodded and smiled bittersweetly as he replied, "My cousin and Ethan helped me when I was going through a very difficult time.
When I realized that Ethan was going to be alone, I wanted to help him. That’s why, even though I had my doubts and was a little scared, I took him in."
A tear slipped from the corner of Aziraphale’s eye. Anthony couldn’t help but reach out, wipe it away with his thumb, and let his hand linger on Aziraphale’s cheek.
Leaning into Anthony’s hand, Aziraphale continued in a slightly hoarse voice, "But I thought I was the one who wanted to help when, in fact, I was the one who was saved. When Ethan smiles, it lifts my spirits. Seeing him grow a little more every day makes me happy. Thanks to Ethan, I feel like I can give it my all every day."
Anthony stroked Aziraphale's cheek with his thumb as the other man said, "I’m not sure I’ve been able to give Ethan a real family."
Anthony stepped closer, took Aziraphale’s hands in his own, and said in a determined voice, "Aziraphale, you’re a wonderful father."
"You think so?"
Anthony nodded enthusiastically and continued, "Since we're being so open with each other, listen. I wanted to wait. I thought maybe you were having a hard time getting over your late wife, and I didn't want to put any pressure on you."
Aziraphale’s heart began to pound wildly in his chest as he saw the fervor in Anthony’s demeanor.
"I know Ethan is the most important person to you, Aziraphale… but I want to be the one right after him. I know it’s still early in our relationship, but I have strong feelings for you. So, mmm"
He couldn’t finish his sentence because Aziraphale had closed the distance between them, leaning in and forcing Anthony to release his grip. Aziraphale's hands, now free, moved up to cup Anthony’s face as he pressed his lips against Anthony’s. The kiss was hesitant at first but deepened almost immediately. Anthony’s hands traveled up Aziraphale’s arms to his neck before getting buried in his hair. He pulled Aziraphale closer, eager to bridge the remaining gap between them.
Anthony fell back against the sofa cushions, pulling Aziraphale with him. They shifted, their bodies entwining, and kissed with a slow, lingering intensity.
When they finally pulled apart, it was only to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together. Aziraphale’s eyes were half-closed, his cheeks tinged with pink. He let out a small, breathless laugh that made Anthony’s chest tremble.
They settled in together to get more comfortable. Anthony held his lover securely on top of him. He tied his arms behind his back and spread his legs so that Aziraphalee could lie across him.
Aziraphale lifted his head to look at Anthony and, running his fingertips over his face, said in a hushed voice, "I'm so happy you came into our lives. You’re right; Ethan is my priority. But what’s happening between us is important to me, too. I have strong feelings for you, too. But I know it’s not easy. I have Ethan, and—"
Anthony shook his head.
"I'm the one who's happy that you've welcomed me into your family. You’ve given me a place where I feel like I belong."
Aziraphale was overwhelmed with a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. He buried his face in Anthony’s neck and whispered, "Yeah, you belong here. With us."
Anthony, with his mouth buried in his lover’s hair, hummed contentedly.
"Does that mean Anthony is going to be my second dad?"
Both men jumped when they saw Ethan standing behind the couch with his stuffed animal.
They sat back down on the couch and straightened their clothes. Ethan had walked around the couch and was now climbing up to sit on Anthony’s lap. He looked intently at his father, clearly waiting for an answer.
Aziraphale stroked his son’s tousled hair and replied gently, "It's still too soon, sweetie. For now, you’ll just have to get used to seeing Anthony more often."
He exchanged a glance with his lover, who nodded and reached out to squeeze his hand.
"I want to see Anthony more often. That means we’ll get to eat good meals more often."
The little boy nodded to emphasize his point, and the two men burst out laughing.
Then, with his little hand resting on theirs, Ethan looked at Anthony and said, "Dad is much happier when you’re here, so I want you to come often."
Anthony winked at Ethan. "I promise. We’re going to make your dad happy."
Then he opened his arms and said to Aziraphale, "Let’s try to be happy, the three of us."
Aziraphale snuggled up next to his son, and they both found themselves wrapped in a big hug by Anthony.
At that moment, Aziraphale felt his heart melt. He, who had struggled so much, felt that happiness was within reach, he felt a bit like a snowdrop seeing the sun rise, melting the snow so it could bloom.
It was just like his lover’s arms and Ethan’s smile were making his heart which had remained cold for so long, bloom.
Aziraphale decided that it was time for him to find closure with his father at his gravestone.
Anthony supported him every step of the way.
While in Tadfield, Aziraphale didn't think he would have the opportunity to mend things with his mother.
Notes
This is the end. I really hoped you enjoyed this little story, which took me down an unusual path.
On Ao3
Rating G - 2976
Masterpost here
"Aziraphale, we’re almost there."
Anthony’s soft voice was followed by a gentle touch on his cheek.
Aziraphale opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and gradually returned to reality.
They were about to arrive in Tadfield.
The village of their childhood.
The village that Aziraphale had left behind so long ago, turning his back on his worst memories.
He didn’t realize how nervous he was until Anthony placed a reassuring hand on his knee.
"Hey, we can go back whenever you want. It’s up to you."
Aziraphale placed his hand on Anthony’s, and their fingers intertwined.
He said softly, "Thank you."
"Anthony, I'm going. To Tadfield."
They were finishing breakfast in Aziraphale’s kitchen.
Anthony looked at him and asked softly, "Are you sure?"
Aziraphale nodded. "For her and for me, so I can find some closure."
"You mean your mother?"
Aziraphale nodded again.
"When are we going?"
"We?"
"Of course, we. Remember, Team Double A forever."
Anthony held out his hand across the table, palm up. Aziraphale placed his hand on top of it, and Anthony’s long fingers closed around his.
He murmured, "Team Double A forever."
Then he let out a deep sigh and said, "Thank you for being here."
Anthony squeezed his hand. "From now on, always, Angel."
"Angel?"
"Yeah, it suits you."
Aziraphale gave a small smile and asked, "Can I call you Angel, too?"
"Nope. Come up with something else, that one's already taken."
"Okay, I'll think about it."
Half an hour later, they arrived in Tadfield. They drove past their old school and shared a knowing smile at this trip down memory lane.
Anthony drove straight to the cemetery. It wasn’t hard to find; it was as if the village hadn’t changed at all in all these years.
Aziraphale hadn’t wanted to attend the memorial service for his father. He didn’t want to hear people talk about or sing praises to his father when he knew what kind of man he’d been. All that hypocrisy made him feel sick.
They left at a time that would allow them to arrive later, so that Aziraphale could go straight to his father’s grave.
A few moments later, Anthony pulled into the parking lot in front of the cemetery.
They didn’t move for a few moments, Anthony was just holding Aziraphale’s hand and stroking it with his thumb.
Aziraphale took a deep breath.
"I’m ready."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Anthony wrapped his arm around his lover’s neck, leaned in, and pressed a long kiss on his temple. Then he said gently, "I’ll be there every step of the way. If you want to turn back, I’ll be there, too."
Too moved to reply, Aziraphale nodded, and they both got out of the car.
Aziraphale took a small piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. On it, he had scribbled directions to his father’s grave.
Once they passed through the cemetery gates, he pointed down a path to the right. "It’s this way."
They had barely taken a few steps when he felt Anthony’s hand slide down his arm until their fingers were intertwined.
"Is this okay?"
Aziraphale squeezed Anthony’s hand and gently reassured him, "Yes, it's perfect."
He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but having Anthony with him the whole way, even if it didn’t make things easier, helped him get through it. In the end, he knew that no matter what happened, Anthony would be there.
Suddenly, he stopped and gasped.
"Aziraphale?"
Seeing his lover's turmoil, Anthony didn't say anything and just let him be.
Aziraphale’s heart began to pound wildly because he had just seen a small figure dressed in black at the end of the path in front of his father’s grave.
He swallowed several times before continuing forward until he reached his mother, at which point he stopped.
He wanted to go to her and didn't want to at the same time.
He took a step forward and stopped again.
Suddenly, Anthony let go of his hand, gently squeezed his shoulder, and said in an extremely soft voice, "Go on. I’ll stay here."
He walked slowly toward his mother, taking in all the changes the years had brought: the way she stood hunched over, her almost white hair, and her much slimmer frame.
Suddenly, she turned around.
When she saw him, her eyes widened.
"Aziraph—" Her voice caught in her throat as she crossed the few steps that separated them. Once in front of him, she raised her arms, then let them fall and lowered her head.
It was the same defeated attitude she had when she disagreed with a decision that Aziraphale’s father made but had no way of defending.
Always bowing.
Aziraphale had witnessed this attitude so many times as a child, and it was only now that he could understand it.
That was enough for him.
He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his mother.
He heard a stifled sob against his chest.
"Oh, Aziraphale, my little boy. I’m… I’m so… I don’t… Please forgive me. I’m so sorry."
Aziraphale, his throat tightening, pulled his mother closer. His resentment toward her didn’t disappear, but it was somewhat tempered. As he looked at his father’s headstone looming over his mother and felt her tremble with sobs against him, he realized that she had probably suffered the most.
She had stayed with her husband.
Aziraphale hadn’t lived constantly under his father’s thumb; he had been able to have a real home when she couldn't.
Things had another meaning with his adult perspective.
His gaze hardened as he watched his father’s gravestone, and he shook his head.
You won't get even a second more of our time.
Aziraphale tried to pull away from his mother. He pushed her back a little and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Mum, Please calm down. It'll be okay. I promise."
He waited for her sobs to subside, then watched as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped her eyes and nose, and finally looked up at him.
With red eyes from crying and a voice still choked with tears, she softly said, "My son, You’ve grown so lovely. No, I’m sorry. I didn't mean it. You’ve always been lovely.
She raised her hand, bringing it close to his face, but then stopped. Aziraphale smiled gently and nodded, encouraging her. His mother reached out and stroked his cheek.
"My brave boy. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so—"
Aziraphale pressed a finger to her lips.
"Stop apologizing, Mum."
"Am I still?"
"What? My mother?"
Aziraphale gently shook his head and kindly replied, "What a question! Of course. It was him..." He nodded toward the grave behind them and continued, "Who made me leave." "Listen, I’ve suffered so much, and now I realize even more clearly just how much you’ve suffered. The pain Dad caused me and the pain he caused you won't just disappear like that. But nothing is lost for either of us. You just have to give us some time. You’re still my mother, though. Of course."
His mother hugged him tightly before stepping back.
Then she asked timidly, "Are you coming home?"
Aziraphale nodded and turned to Anthony, who was leaning against a tree a short distance away.
"I didn't come alone."
His mother looked at Anthony, and he watched her eyes widen.
"Oh... is that your..."
"It's new," Aziraphale said softly. "We haven’t decided anything yet. It’s...a work in progress, let's say. But it's not casual I hope you do—"
This time, she put a finger on his son's lips.
"Don't finish that sentence. Whatever you may have heard, whatever your father said, I never thought that. I never agreed with his opinion on the matter. We don't have time for all that now. Anyway, you and..."
He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Mom, I just wanted to…" He pointed to the gravestone and continued, "You see..."
Nodding, his mother placed her hand on his arm and said gently, "I'll wait for you there with Anthony."
Aziraphale watched his mother walk away toward Anthony, who simply nodded and smiled at him.
With a lump in his throat, Aziraphale turned around and walked over to his father’s gravestone. He stood there, unable to speak.
Meanwhile, his mother had joined Anthony.
Anthony held out his hand to her and said softly, "Hello, Mrs. Fell. I’m sorry for your loss."
She squeezed his hand in return and replied, "Thank you... Anthony, is that right?"
Anthony smiled softly and asked, "Have I changed so much that you don't recognize me?"
Aziraphale’s mother narrowed her eyes, and after a few moments, she exclaimed, "That red hair! Oh, you’re that Anthony. The little boy who used to play with my son. You two were inseparable, and he was so upset when you left."
"Yes, madam, that’s me."
Suddenly, Elisabeth turned pale. "That...that means..."
Anthony looked at her sympathetically. "That he knows about the letters."
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry. My husband, he’s the one who… I know I shouldn’t have, but—"
"Please calm down, madam," Anthony said soothingly."From what I know of Aziraphale, and from what I witnessed just a moment ago, I think your son has opened your eyes to a lot of things."
"It's not just him; it's you, too. I’ve caused you pain as well because my son never received your letters."
Anthony placed a hand on Aziraphale’s mother’s arm.
"If I may, madam—"
She shook her head. "Oh, there's no need to call me 'madam.' I’m Elisabeth."
Anthony cleared his throat. "Elisabeth, one of Aziraphale's greatest gifts is forgiveness. I’m sure that when the time comes, we’ll cross that bridge together."
Though looking a little skeptical, Elisabeth nodded. "You seem to know him well."
Anthony smiled before replying, "Well, we met again not long ago, and it was easy for us to reconnect. Your son is remarkable. Let's just say we're figuring out our relationship as we go along."
Elisabeth's voice was hoarse when she said, "I'm glad to meet you again. Even if it’s under sad circumstances."
"Me too, Elisabeth."
Their eyes turned toward the figure standing immobile in front of the gravestone.
Finally finding the strength, Aziraphale began to speak in a slightly hoarse voice.
"Father. Father, It's strange how that word sounds coming out of my mouth. At first, I didn’t know why I’d come. Maybe it was to apologize for not being the son you wanted me to be. Now that I’m here, I know that’s not it. I don’t have to apologize for who I am. I’m proud of who I am. The fact that you didn’t like who I was, that was your problem, not mine. Not mine. I don't want to justify or explain myself. I'll just say that I'm done with you. I'm leaving, and I'm leaving you behind for good. I’m going to make sure Mum is happy. I'm going to make sure she experiences the happiness you deprived her of. I’m going to focus on the livings. I'm going to focus on those who love and respect me just as I am. Goodbye."
He took a deep breath, leaving all the unspoken words and resentment hanging in the air. He knew it wouldn’t disappear all at once, but he knew he could finally leave it behind.
Aziraphale turned around and strode confidently toward Anthony and his mother.
When he reached them, his mother put her hand on his arm and Anthony asked Aziraphale gently, "Are you okay?"
Aziraphale nodded and replied, "I'm okay now."
Then he asked his mother, "Are you done here?"
She nodded.
"Shall we go home?"
Aziraphale took his mother’s arm, and they began walking down the path toward the parking lot. Anthony walked quietly a few steps ahead of them.
Aziraphale felt at peace just looking at him.
"You love him, don't you?"
His mother’s voice was barely a whisper.
"I…"
"Don’t say anything. Just answer one question, my son: Are you happy?"
After a moment of thought, with his eyes fixed on the tall figure walking ahead, Aziraphale replied, "I’m on my way to it."
His mother hummed and replied, "That's good."
They had reached the car. Anthony held the front door open to help Aziraphale’s mother get in while Aziraphale took a seat in the back.
Once everyone was settled in the car, Anthony started it and they headed for Aziraphale's childhood home. Aziraphale dreaded coming back, but now that he was grown up, everything seemed smaller. After touring the unchanged house, Elisabeth served them tea and cakes. They talked for hours, making up for lost time. When the silences occasionally became awkward—after all, 20 years can't be bridged just like that—Anthony skillfully helped them overcome the awkwardness and maintain the conversation.
Elisabeth hinted that she would probably sell the house and look for something smaller as she was getting older. Perhaps she would look for something nearer to Aziraphale.
As the sun started to set, Elisabeth invited them to stay to dinner. After they accepted, she encouraged them to go for a walk while she prepared the meal.
Aziraphale realized this was also a way for his mother to have a little time a lone to process it all.
Anthony and Aziraphale were now in the garden, near an old apple tree. One of its branches still held a swing on which Aziraphale used to play. The rope was frayed, and the wood was weathered.
Anthony took his lover's hand and asked gently, "How are you?"
Aziraphale brought his lover’s hand to his lips, pressed a kiss to it, and said, "It might seem too optimist regarding the situation, but I'm fine."
"You feel what you feel. There are no rules. Your relationship with your father was special. Maybe the fact that you left was like your father no longer existing for you. Maybe that’s when you went through the grieving process."
"Hmm...maybe. I know it won't be always easy, but I think I'm on the right path.
Anthony raised his hand and gently brushed his lover’s hair back.
"I think so, too. Are you still willing to walk this path with me?"
Aziraphale looked up at him. "So much."
"You're amazing, you know."
As he saw the admiration in his lover’s eyes, he thought back to his mother’s question.
Do you love him?
He knew the answer.
Of course he loved him.
Ever since he’d wrapped his little finger around Anthony’s.
Team Double A forever.
Their childhood love had turned into adult love when they found each other again. Their new feelings were fueled by those of the past and Aziraphale had quickly fallen in love with his childhood sweetheart all over again.
Their adult relationship was only a few days old, of course, and seemed a bit cliché, like falling in love at first sight. But what is love at first sight anyway? Maybe it was recognizing a soul you loved in a past life and falling in love with it again. He’d loved Anthony’s soul in that life, back when he was just five years old.
That's why he couldn’t deny what he was feeling today.
"Aziraphale?"
Anthony's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Gazing at his amazing lover, he said playfully, "I think I know."
"What?"
"How to call you."
Anthony looked at him, puzzled.
"You told me that I couldn't call you Angel, so I figured out what I should call you."
"What?"
"My love."
Anthony blushed slightly as he answered, "I really like that."
Aziraphale blinked, almost surprised by how easily Anthony admitted it.
"Really?"
Anthony didn’t answer with words. He stepped into the small space between them, closing the gap entirely. He reached out and cupped Aziraphale’s face with a reverence that made his lover's breath hitch. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his lover's in a slow, devastatingly tender kiss.
Aziraphale pulled him closer, his hands finding the small of Anthony’s back, and they stood there for a long time, bathed in the amber glow of the dying light. The shadows lengthened around them, but neither moved to leave. They knew they were standing on the threshold of something new, something beautiful, and finally, something theirs.
After watching the two figures kiss and embrace, Elisabeth reached for her handkerchief to wipe away a few tears.
What could be more beautiful and moving than witnessing her child's happiness? Especially since she had thought she had lost him forever.
As she watched them through the curtains, a memory came flooding back, something she thought she had long forgotten.
Anthony and Aziraphale were sitting in the grass, making flower armbands.
Elisabeth watched them from the terrace.
Aziraphale tied the armband he had made around Anthony's wrist and asked, "Hey, Anthony, will we be friends forever?"
Anthony nodded, his little red curls bouncing around his face.
He put the armband around Aziraphale's wrist and said, "Yes, forever."
"Do you promise?"
He held up his little finger and said, "Team Double A forever."
She watched her son do the same and curled his little finger around Anthony's as he repeated, "Team Double A forever."
The two boys continued to laugh and talk, blond hair touching red curls. They were happy in their own little world, oblivious to the rest of it.
Elisabeth let the curtain fall over the silhouettes of her son and Anthony embracing beneath the apple tree.
Do you love him?
Her son had just answered that question without knowing it. She smiled as she walked toward the door to call the two men in for dinner.
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Asa returned from the bookshop earlier than expected and learned something new about Anthony.
Notes
Inspired by the discovery of a GIF of David Tennant playing the guitar.
On Ao3
Rating G - 1128 words
Eager to see Anthony, Asa hummed as he climbed the stairs two at a time. He wasn’t expected back so early that day, but there had been few customers at the bookshop, so he was able to spend the afternoon doing what he had planned to do that evening after closing.
He quietly opened the door to Anthony’s apartment so as not to startle his lover, who was supposed to have already returned from university.
But he was the one taken by surprise when he heard music coming from the back of the apartment as he closed the door behind him.
It was the sound of a guitar.
It wasn’t coming from a speaker or the TV.
It was being played by someone.
He furrowed his brow, wondering who could be playing it so well.
Asa silently hung up his coat, took off his shoes, set his bag on the floor, and strode toward the living room where the sound seemed to be coming from. He approached slowly and saw that the door was slightly open.
Leaning over to look through the half-open door, he gasped in surprise, but the music muffled the sound.
He couldn'thelp himself and mouthed, "Anthony..."
Anthony was playing the guitar.
The notes that echoed off the apartment walls flowed from his fingers.
Asa was mesmerized.
Anthony didn’t see him. His eyes were closed as if he were transported by his music so Asa could watch him to his heart’s content.
His lover’s silhouette was outlined by the warm light of the setting sun streaming through the window, softening his features. Anthony had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and Asa found it hard to tear his gaze away from the muscles moving beneath his skin as he strummed and plucked the strings of his guitar.
Asa hardly dared to breathe, not wanting to disturb this special moment. He leaned silently against the doorframe, continuing to watch and listen. Anthony seemed so free and uninhibited when he played. It was just him, his instrument, and his music. Asa was so entranced by Anthony’s long fingers dancing across the strings that he didn’t notice when his lover opened his eyes and became aware of his presence.
He didn’t realize that Anthony had seen him until the music stopped abruptly. He looked up to find Anthony watching him through the half-open door. Their eyes met, Anthony’s gaze betraying his embarrassment at having been caught off guard.
Asa asked softly, "May I come in?"
Anthony nodded and gently set his guitar down next to him on the couch. Once Asa had entered the room, Anthony simply opened his arms and said a little sheepishly, "I guess the cat's out of the bag."
Asa smiled back, unsure what to say. He took a step forward as Anthony continued, "You've discovered another one of my secrets. It seems I can’t hide anything from you when it comes to myself. Not that I’m trying to hide anything from you.”
Although there was no resentment in Anthony’s voice, when Asa approached and sat on the armrest, he couldn’t help but apologize.
“I’m sorry. If you'd like, I'll leave. I understand that this might be something you don’t want to share. You’re entitled to your own secret gar-”
Anthony shook his head, placed a finger on Asa’s lips, and said, "No, that’s not it... or rather, it isn’t anymore."
His expression softened as he continued, “I used to play because it let me disconnect from everything else, when things got a little too much in there.” He made a small swirling motion with his hand near his head and added, "I'd lose myself in the music for a moment and put my racing mind on pause."
He paused, seemingly overwhelmed by emotion. Asa waited for him to compose himself before continuing. Anthony raised his hand and gently brushed Asa’s cheek. Then he resumed, "But now, there's you. You silence all the noise inside me. Ever since you’ve been here, I haven’t needed music to find inner peace. Today, I felt like picking up my guitar again, just to play for the sheer joy of it. For no particular reason.”
Asa leaned his cheek into Anthony’s hand and asked softly, “So, how did it go? How did it make you feel?”
Anthony smiled as he replied, “It was even better than before.”
Asa took the hand resting on his cheek, kissed the palm, and whispered, unable to hide his admiration, "In any case, from where I was standing, it was beautiful to see and hear."
Anthony smiled, his enjoyment of the praise evident on his face.
Asa added, "When you play the guitar, you’re just as gorgeous as when you make love."
He watched with obvious delight as Anthony’s cheeks flushed slightly. Then, it was Asa's turn to blush when Anthony replied with a look of gentleness and teasing in his eyes, "That's only natural since I was thinking of you while I was playing."
Then, pulling himself up slightly, he cupped Asa’s face in his hands and pressed his lips tenderly against his lover's for a kiss that lasted a few moments. When they parted, Asa asked softly, "Would you play for me again?"
Anthony seemed to think for a moment before nodding. He sat up straight, picked up his guitar, and Asa sat down next to him. Anthony took a few seconds to tune the guitar, and once he was ready, he raised an eyebrow at Asa and asked, “Any particular requests?”
Asa shook his head and replied gently, "Just let yourself be inspired. Play whatever you feel like."
Anthony nodded, thought for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and began gently plucking the strings.
Asa watched him with admiration, unable to hide his surprise when Anthony suddenly began to sing, looking directly at him.
Something in your eyes
Makes me wanna lose myself
In your arms
There's something in your voice
Makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts
The rest of my life
If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I've been so alone
If you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you've done
This time, Anthony kept his eyes open throughout the entire song and stared intently at Asa. For the few minutes that the song lasted, they communicated their feelings through music alone. Asa marveled at the feeling of being included in another part of Anthony’s world.
When the final note faded from his fingertips and voice, their gazes were still locked.
The lyrics continued to echo like an invisible thread stretched between them.
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More than anything, Asa loves Anthony's tenderness
Day 23 : Tender
On Ao3
Rating G - 50 words
Asa was snuggled in Anthony’s arms on the couch.
And in that quiet moment, he realized that, more than any grand romantic gestures or impassioned declarations, it was this effortless tenderness that he loved the most.
