You Are So Loved! | Good Omens - Ineffable Husbands Fic

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Aziraphale agrees, but doesn't actually hurry. It's not that he's inconsiderate and taking his time, he just doesn't know what to wear. He can't figure out which jacket would work best, which vest would allow him to stay cool, and what ever was he supposed to do about his pants? He only ever wore pants! After a considerable amount of time, Crowley comes to see what was going on and what was taking so long. He knocks, but in Aziraphale's frustration, he doesn't even hear it from being too stuck in his head. Crowley does hear his friend talking to himself quite hurriedly and decides to open the door despite no answer.

Aziraphale turns at the sound of the door, and Crowley can tell he's embarrassed to be seen in only his underage by the pink rushing to his ears. His clothes laid about the back room in scattered little groups. If you actually looked, you'd be able to see where Aziraphale first worried about a vest, and then a coat, and then how he dug through his pant drawer; his thought pattern lied out for anyone to see. It is then that Crowley sees how worried Aziraphale is getting about something so minor, and knows he needs to calm him down.

He starts with "Relax, it's just me. I'm not going to tell anyone the color of your underwear," in the calmest and safest voice he can manage. "Look, Aziraphale, it's not that important. The pants you had on before were fine, just lose the jacket and vest, it'll be too warm. Here--" he went to the closet and found a shirt with shorter sleeves and thinner material than what he had on before. "This ought to work," he said looking it over and then handing the hanger to the angel.

Aziraphale was obviously very uncomfortable with the whole situation. Not only did his friend walk in on him in only socks, underwear, and an undershirt, but now he thinks he can't dress himself properly! Well, I guess there's some fairness to the last thing. He really didn't know what to wear, after all.

"Go on now, we don't have all the time in the world," Crowley said with a smile, as he began to clean up. Aziraphale was barely able to unlock his knees to get started, though he could feel his redness fading a bit. So he got to work on his appearance while Crowley got to work on hanging things back in their almost correct places. Despite Aziraphale's embarrassment, he was very grateful in that moment. Especially when his friend picked up a pair of tanish-colored suspenders from the floor and handed it him, claiming "That looks about your style," giving him a firm pat on the shoulder.

While he puts them on, Crowley finds from the other side of the room a small handle mirror hanging from a nail in the wall, and hands it back to Aziraphale. "Voila," is all he says.

Aziraphale looks at the demon with a whirlwind of emotions swirling through him--happiness at the demon's kind behavior being nearly masked by the leftover embarassment, and gratefulness at his helpful favor. He takes the mirror from him carefully, saying "Thank you," with a sweet and gentle smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He looks over his new appearance, decides it'll work, and is just about to say so when Crowley holds up a finger. "Wait, something is missing," he states, looking around the room for just a moment before finding it atop a small set of drawers. Aziraphale's bowtie. "Final touch," he says holding it up.

Aziraphale lowers the mirror to take it from him, but doesn't get a chance to. Crowley circles Aziraphale, ending up behind him, and begins to put the tie on his friend. Yes, the gesture was small, but the angel's neck went hot at the brushing of his partner's fingers against his skin. It wasn't perfect, but there was no way Aziraphale was going to say anything about it. It was such a thoughtful thing, and those don't come often or easily from Crowley.