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“Prince Crowley!” the knight standing outside the gate shouted, hoping that His Highness would be able to hear him. “On behalf of you dear mother, Queen Beelzebub, I’ve been tasked to rescue you from—“
“Yes yes, we know the drill by now,” Crowley drawled, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “You can jump up on that horse of yours again and get your tin-can arse out of here. I don’t need to be rescued, okay?”
“But Your Highness—“
“No, I’ve had enough of you lot, coming here and pestering us on a weekly basis!”
Aziraphale put a hand on his agitated friend’s arm. “Now, now, you know this isn’t his fault.”
“Fuck if I care. He chose to come here, didn’t he?”
“Because he was ordered to.” Aziraphale turned to the knight. “Isn’t that correct, young man?”
“Uh.” The knight’s eyes flicked between the two men looking down at him from the parapet. “Uh, yes. And who are you, if I may ask?”
“None of your business, is what he is,” Crowley interjected. “He’s my friend, and that’s all you need to know.”
“But…” Clearly confused, the knight took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Your mother said that a dragon was holding you captive. To keep you from marrying the man of your dreams, Duke Hastur.”
“She said what, now?”
There were a few moments of silence, then Crowley burst out in laughter.
“Crowley, dear, are you alright?”
The prince wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “Hastur, the man of my dreams? That’s rich.”
The knight shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say anything.
“What’s your name, young man?” Aziraphale asked, when Crowley’s cackling started up again.
“Uh, the name’s Picksnell, Sir.”
Aziraphale smiled benevolently at him. “Well, Sir Picksnell, as you can see, Prince Crowley isn’t in any danger.”
“Yes, but…” He glanced at Crowley again. “What about his marriage to Duke Hastur? The Queen is adamant the Prince returns so that the wedding can proceed as planned.”
The laughter dying abruptly, Crowley turned serious. “Even if I would return, I refuse to marry that arsehole. Alright?”
“Is there a way to convince the Queen to stop pursuing this?” Aziraphale asked, addressing the knight. “To call off the wedding?”
“You know what?” Crowley grinned, turning his mischievous gaze to Aziraphale. “When I said that this man here was my friend, what I really meant was that he’s my friend. ” He looked down at the knight again. “If you catch my drift, Pricksmell,” he added with a wink.
“I’m afraid I don’t—“ Aziraphale’s words were cut off by a pair of lips.
Gaping, the knight stared as the men above him shared what appeared to be a passionate kiss.
“The only man I want to marry is the one in my arms,” Crowley said, when they finally pulled apart, his eyes locked with Aziraphale’s. Still not looking at Picksnell, he added, “you go back and tell my mother that. And let her know that if she doesn’t stop this fucking nonsense, I’ll have my dragon eat Duke Hastur.”
“Dear,” Aziraphale whispered, his wide eyes searching Crowley’s.
When Picksnell didn’t move, Crowley glared down at him, Aziraphale still in his embrace. “If you don’t leave within the next ten seconds, I’m calling out the dragon to eat you .”
Without another word, the young knight scrambled up onto his horse and galloped away.
“Almost a shame he stayed.”
Aziraphale gave him a look. “I wouldn’t have eaten him, Crowley.”
“I know.” Smiling, Crowley caressed his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But I love seeing you in your dragon form, all magnificent in your scaly, white beauty.”
“Crowley.” The word was barely more than a sigh.
“I meant it, you know. You’re the only one I want.” His hand moved to tip Aziraphale’s chin up. “I hope that won’t pose a problem for you.”
“Of course not, you silly man. I love you.”
Crowley had hoped, but he hadn’t been sure. The hazel eyes looking up at him shone with the same adoration he hoped was apparent in his own.
“Thank fuck, because I love you too.” He took Aziraphale’s hand in his, lacing their fingers. “Come on, let’s go and take this discussion inside. In private.”
“Crowley, there’s no one else here.”
“Yeah, but there’s no bed either.”
“Ah. What are we waiting for, then?” Aziraphale started walking towards the stairs, pulling Crowley along by the hand.
Crowley laughed. “Me, apparently.”