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iris-writes-things · 5 years

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Two Guys and a Baby: Day 6

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“We’re not a—” Crowley started. “We’re not his—” Ezra cut off. Crowley blessed under his breath that he didn’t finish that. He sighed. “We’re just looking after him.”

Or, Anathema talks to Ezra and Crowley catches a breather.

Chapter 8 of 20 Ongoing 2376 words Romance/Humor

‘Obviously he loves you enough to not want to risk what you have.’

Even on the next morning, miss Device’s words still haunted Ezra’s mind. What on Earth was that supposed to mean? That Anthony doubted he had what it took to be romantically involved with Ezra? Or worse, that Anthony doubted Ezra had what it took to be romantically involved with him?

Was it his family, perhaps? Anthony never mentioned aunts, uncles or cousins. Just him, his mother, rest her soul, his sister and her family. Ezra knew firsthand that Anathema would be thrilled to bits, and with how involved Anthony was in raising the girl he couldn’t imagine her mother would have much of an issue with it. In fact, if memory serves, it was only her father who was… ‘opposed’ to uncle Tony being around as often as he was, which had led to a swift and merciless divorce.

Or was it Ezra’s family? They were… something. Not in touch as much as of late, for one. And they were… they didn’t… well… For all his jabs at his family, Anthony hadn’t spoken a single lie about them.

The magazine, by now, was placed carefully back in the rack. Now that he knew Anthony was quite definitely into him, there was no need for it anymore. Taking its place behind the counter was Ezra’s journal, in which he had written Anathema’s messages in his meticulous handwriting. If he could only… only… do what, exactly? Ezra had never been in a relationship before. He doubted he ever properly courted before! No. Don’t panic. Take a deep breath. There we go.

After all, if Anthony wasn’t going to be able to keep a level head about this, Ezra would have to.

What snapped Ezra out of his thoughts wasn’t the bell of his shop ringing, as he was still occupied with his journal. It wasn’t the fall of heavy boots against the floorboards, walking up to the counter, either. Instead, it was a young, chipper “Hi Ezra!”

He nearly flung his journal across the bookshop. “M-Miss Device!” he greeted nervously, gripping the book ever so slightly more tightly. “I, uh… may I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Hm… I was gonna say that I passed by on my way to school so I figured I’d pop in real quick before continuing on my way, but I actually took a four block detour to get here… I’m actually here to check up on you,” Anathema said with an apologetic look on her face.

Ezra frowned. “Who? Me? Whatever for?”

The girl’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips together in an awkward line. “I may have told my mum about last night and she said… well… I didn’t stop to consider that kind of knowledge might freak you out and put you off to uncle Tony forever, and I don’t want that. I’m sorry.”

He laid the book back down. “If I’m completely honest, it did ‘freak me out’ a little, but I accept your apology,” he said softly. “It’s a little embarrassing, really, but I spent the better part of a decade wondering if he felt the same for me, especially the last two years, just… dreaming about it, fantasizing about it, and now I just know, and I can’t tell you how strange that feels.”

“But you should have heard it from him, not me! Wait—” Anathema frowned and glanced up at him, leaning further over the counter. “What do you mean, ‘especially the last two years’?”

“We-well, you see, there was this, uh, well, I wouldn’t call it an ‘incident’ per say, perhaps something closer to an ‘occurence’—”

“I’m not here to discuss semantics, Ezra. What did he do?”

“I mean, it wasn’t so much what he did do—”

“Mr. Fell, please.”

“We almost kissed and then he never contacted me again until he got Adam! There. Are you happy now?”

Anathema looked up at him with eyes like saucers and an incredulous grin quirked at the corners of her mouth. “You guys did what?”

“You heard me, young lady.”

“I’m sorry about the way uncle Tony dealt with it, though. I mean, I know he’s awkward, and he did say he hadn’t spoken to you in ‘a while’, but I didn’t think ‘a while’ would be two full years.”

“Oh Anathema…” the man sighed. “That’s very kind of you, but you know that’s not necessary.”

“I mean, I guess, but…”

“No buts and certainly no apologies. Now, shouldn’t you be getting to school?”

“I should,” Anathema mumbled as she backed off from the counter. “I guess I’ll see you around then.” And with that, she was gone.

When Crowley entered the bookshop that morning, there was something different about the way it felt. As if the very atmosphere in the shop had changed. It was like someone had opened a window in a room that was dusty and stuffy and had been long since closed up, and then promptly shut it again. He glanced at Adam, sitting on his arm. He didn’t seem to notice anything was different. And Ezra was seated behind the counter, as always, so Crowley decided to pay it no mind.

The man still had his nose buried in that leatherbound journal of his, and his eyebrows seemed to force their way together until they twitched. He probably hadn’t even heard Crowley come in.

He pouted. Not because he was particularly disappointed that Ezra, even now, didn’t seem to notice his presence, but because one of these days some scoundrel was going to walk in here and shoplift all of the books, and there would be Hell to pay for it.

Quietly, Crowley walked up to the counter, sneaking a closer look at Ezra. His chin leaned in the palm of his left hand, while he held the book in the right. His intent gaze was fixed so firmly on the pages that Crowley was sure he would blush like a schoolgirl, should he ever find himself at the receiving end of it. And he did.

Ezra’s eyes flitted up from the book, fixing that intent gaze on Crowley, before he scrambled to put the journal down behind the counter in a panic. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you were here!”

The fussiness had been charming. Cute, even. But the look in his sky-blue eyes had already made Crowley’s blood run cold and his face run hot, and for a few seconds, it felt like his very heart had stopped beating.

“Oh,” Crowley said flippantly as he ignored every signal his body gave him. “No biggie."

“If you say so, my dear,” Ezra said, smiling his awkward smile that phased into fondness as he stood up to gently pet at Adam’s head. “Good morning, Adam.”

Adam giggled and cooed, reaching up for the man’s hand and gripping his thumb.

The boy had, as Crowley had recently discovered, a death grip, which he exerted on many things, but primarily Crowley’s hair. This was why he kept Adam’s grabby little hands an arm’s length away from his head as he put the boy down on the floor to explore the bookshop some more.

“And good morning to you too, of course, Anthony,” Ezra continued when Crowley came back up again, now turning that fond look to him.

Suddenly, the stuffy air of the bookshop seemed to suffocate him. He wanted out. He needed out. But he didn't want to worry Ezra by abandoning him. Again. “You know,” he started, “I was hoping maybe we could take Adam to the park later today…. On your lunch break, maybe? We could just lock the door, cross the street and let him play in the sandbox a little? Maybe push him a bit on the swing?” He saw a small head of golden hair perk up from behind a display table. Crowley couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course, my dear. That sounds like fun,” Ezra said. “But why so nervous?”

“Who? Me? Nervous?” Crowley laughed nervously. “I’m not. I was just… planning the trip while I told you about it. Simultaneously.”

“The trip across the street, you mean?” Ezra asked, exasperation and amusement written all over his face.

“Yes. I don’t see how that’s funny,” Crowley said with the conviction of a soccer mom who was convinced she was wronged by the server bringing her a coke zero instead of a coke light.

People were staring. Had been for the last hour and a half. Of course they were, though. They were two adult, queer men hanging out at a playground with a baby. This was apparently ‘out of the ordinary’, even in central London. Crowley knew he shouldn’t be offended. Adam wasn’t their baby after all, however hard Crowley may be falling for the boy. Well. At least they weren’t the suspicious stares Crowley got walking with Adam alone. They were ‘encouraging’ stares, which were almost just as bad. Because Ezra and him? Nothing between them. No sir. Nothing at all. Well. There was. But it was all one-sided. At least, now that they were outside, he could wear his sunglasses again, and no one would catch him glaring.

Adam was currently enjoying himself in the sandbox of the playground, he and Ezra sat by the edge not too far away, when a girl of about two years old with curly hair galaxies worth of freckles on her face approached him holding a lump of sand and handed it to Adam.

Adam looked at it for a second before apparently deciding his lunch had not been enough and took a bite out of it.

“Adam, no! Spit it out!” Crowley shouted.

Ezra was the first of them out of his seat, Crowley close behind him, running over and scooping Adam into his arms and making the baby spit out the sand.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” called a young woman as she ran up to them and picked up the little girl. “Pippin is very fond of sharing. Like, to a fault.”

Crowley said nothing.

“‘Pippin’?” Ezra asked. He made a face.

“Yes,” the woman answered enthusiastically. “Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. That’s her name.”

Ezra’s face turned to a grimace. The woman didn’t seem to notice.

“Well! Surely Adam is more than happy to meet your little Pippin,” Crowley interrupted before the woman could start to notice.

“Of course,” the woman smiled. “Oh! I’m sorry, I’m Janice, by the way,” she said as she extended her hand.

Crowley took it and shook it. “Crowley. This is Ezra and Adam.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Janice said. “Say, I can’t say I’ve seen you gentlemen around the playground before. Are you new here?”

“Oh no, we’re hardly new here!” Ezra said, seemingly recovered from the shock of that poor girl’s name. “I’ve actually owned the bookshop across the street for a decade now, and I believe Anthony here has lived in London all his life. We’ve simply never had a reason to come to the playground before.”

Janice frowned, before a realization dawned upon her. “Oh yes, I’ve heard adoption can be such a hassle, especially for gay couples and whatnot. Someone really ought to do something about that.”

“We’re not a—” Crowley started.

“We’re not his—” Ezra cut off.

Crowley blessed under his breath that he didn’t finish that. He sighed. “We’re just looking after him.”

The woman suddenly looked extremely uneasy and shifted her daughter on her hip. “I, uh, well—”

“No need to apologize,” Ezra said before she could, placing his free hand on her arm. “It was a very logical conclusion to come to.”

“We-well, yes,” she stammered, “but I shouldn’t have assumed that you were… you know?”

Crowley smiled and put a saccharine tone into his voice. It was probably a good thing Janice couldn’t see what went on behind his sunglasses. “You know what, I’m afraid I don’t. Would you please elaborate?”

Ezra nudged him with his elbow and shot him a warning look, but Janice’s face was growing red now and Crowley was too amused to stop.

“By all means, we’re dying to find out.”

“Actually, I just remembered I have somewhere to be very urgently,” the woman said before power walking away from Crowley, Ezra and Adam. Pippin waved at them until they were out of sight.

“Really, my dear?”

“What?”

“Pippin Galadriel Moonchild,” Ezra sighed as he leaned his head back against the window of the shop’s door. Adam, who had been exhausted after two hours of intense swinging, see-sawing and sandbox scooping in the playground, was currently taking a nap against his chest.

Crowley leaned over him to flip the sign to ‘open’.

“That poor girl. Can you imagine having to go to school with a name like that?”

“Don’t think they go around reading the Lord of the Rings to six year olds nowadays,” Crowley joked. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins from roasting that Janice lady.

“No, but they will find it sooner or later,” Ezra asserted, moving over to sit down in Crowley’s usual spot in the window seat. “Hopefully. I mean, the books are quite good.”

“Only seen the movies,” Crowley quipped. “I hope she becomes best friends with a girl named Mary, tough,” he said with a grin.

“Oh, you devil! And by the way, there was no reason for you to be so mean to that poor woman.”

Giddy laughter escaped Crowley as he made for the kitchenette in Ezra’s apartment, scaling the stairs two steps at a time. “I am underappreciated in my time,” he mock-whined. “I’ll make it up to you! Tea or cocoa?”

“Cocoa, if you don’t mind,” he faintly heard Ezra say.

Crowley cracked his knuckles as he got to work in the tiny kitchen. The fresh air must have done him some good as well. He hadn’t felt this… light in a while. A happiness swarmed in his chest that seemed to make him weightless, all by watching the man he admired so much play with a small child. And thoroughly sassing that woman added to his exceptionally good mood as well.

He felt good. He felt confident.

And, maybe, he felt like he could tell Ezra how he feels.

Just not today.

#fanfic #EN #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #human AU

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