Chapter Text
"I'm so sorry, Anthony. This is all very unexpected for us, too." The voice on the phone sounded genuinely apologetic, and a touch sad, which only made Crowley feel worse about his attention drifting to his finances as he frantically tried to calculate how badly the loss would impact him. "Trust me, Thaddeus and I are both quite sad to lose you. The reassignment came suddenly. If we’re ever back in town, I promise we’ll be calling you."
"It’s alright, Harriet. I understand. These things happen. It’s been lovely spending time with you both, and I promise I’m not just saying that." Crowley worked hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice, not wanting to make his (now former) client feel even worse. It wasn’t her fault that her and her rich husband’s proclivities accounted for roughly 75 percent of his regular income.
"I’ll miss you, Anthony." She sounded like she meant it. Thaddeus participated enthusiastically whenever he was home, but he was often away for business, and Crowley and Harriet had spent considerably more quality time together over the past year and a half. "Do keep in touch."
He probably wouldn’t, but he smiled a fake smile to keep his voice light and said he would before wishing her and Thaddeus the best on their new adventures. He hung up the phone and his smile immediately dropped into a frown. Shit.
Crowley had taken on more clients in the past when he first became an escort, but after the Dowlings had contracted him, he’d been able to dwindle down his client list to just the two of them and a handful of high value one-off jobs every couple of months. He looked at his full past and potential client list now, scanning names for anyone he thought might be worth reaching out to. He sighed heavily, not at all interested in hustling for rent money again. He’d have to call Tracy soon and ask for more referrals.
He prayed to Someone that he’d find another big fish soon so he could keep more of his time (and his body) to himself. He loved sex, loved physical touch - but when it was for pay, it didn’t fully scratch the itch. Ironically, the more clients he had at one time, the more lonely he would typically feel. He hadn’t attempted to date anyone since becoming an escort, either. He was simply too afraid to be shamed and rejected to try and find anything meaningful right now.
The urge to wallow was strong, but he swallowed it down along with some aspirin and texted his friend Anathema. When he asked if he could come over, her response came in the form of a photo of her and a mutual friend of theirs, Aziraphale, sitting on her couch. Anathema was giving a thumbs up and winking at the camera while Aziraphale stared at whatever movie they were watching.
Crowley rolled his eyes. Anathema knew he found the other man attractive, but Crowley refused to go through the awkward explanation of what he did for a living to someone who looked like a literal angel and seemed equally as innocent. When asked by anyone who wasn’t in the know, Crowley would say he was ‘in entertainment’ and refuse to elaborate further. Anathema wouldn’t have told Aziraphale the specifics without Crowley’s permission, so the other man was still unaware of exactly what kind of entertainment Crowley was really into.
That was ultimately what left him too terrified to even ask the man out on a date. Aziraphale was so soft and sweet and seemed so proper. Crowley could hardly imagine him wanting anything to do with someone in his line of work, even if he most likely wouldn’t judge anyone for doing it. He sighed again, but began getting ready to head over to Anathema’s in hopes of distracting himself from his impending doom.
Half an hour later, Anathema ushered Crowley inside as he stood in the freezing wind in clothing ill-suited for the weather, refusing to shiver as a matter of principle. Anathema rolled her eyes at his outfit - which was clearly more about aesthetics than function - and led him to the den. Aziraphale smiled at him as he waved hello, and for a brief moment he forgot to be frantic and worried. As Aziraphale’s focus shifted back to the television, the fog resettled, and Crowley sighed. It seemed to be the theme of the evening. Anathema returned from the kitchen with a fancy fruit beer for Crowley and sat on the opposite end of the couch from Aziraphale, leaving the middle free. "You look terrible. What gives?"
Crowley plopped down on the couch, mindful not to touch Aziraphale more than necessary as he folded himself up in a comfortable position for pouting. With Aziraphale right there, he couldn’t exactly speak freely, but he figured he could be vague enough to get the point across to Anathema without giving too much away. He stared in the general direction of the television without paying any attention to it. "I uh, lost a.. Gig. Big one." He looked over at Anathema who gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee.
"I’m sorry, was it the-?" Crowley never gave too much information about his clients out of respect for their privacy, but Anathema was aware he was in the employ of a wealthy couple.
"The two, yeah." He surreptitiously glanced over at Aziraphale, who appeared focused on whatever they’d been watching when Crowley came in. "I’m gonna have to probably take a lot of.. smaller gigs… to make up for the loss." He fiddled with the seam of his tight jeans, running his long finger back and forth along it. It was a nervous tick of his.
"I wonder.." Aziraphale spoke, and Crowley nearly jumped. So, he had been listening. The blond seemed a bit pink in the cheeks, and swallowed before continuing. "..if we might be able to help each other out?" He turned to face Crowley, who was looking at him with an expression somewhere between mild panic and anxious curiosity. Aziraphale knew Crowley had been trying to be discreet about his choice of occupation, but he hadn’t exactly picked the best cover, and he wasn’t nearly as vague as he thought himself to be. Given all of that, Aziraphale was fairly certain he hadn’t misread the situation, so he barrelled ahead lest he lose his nerve.
"You see, I have several events I must attend over the next three months. I was thinking perhaps I could enlist your services-" At Crowley’s raised eyebrows and Anathema’s slightly gobsmacked expression, his blush deepened. He pulled awkwardly at his collar. "Not those services." He avoided looking at Crowley for fear of his brain imagining that kind of arrangement with the gorgeous redhead. He made a valiant effort to continue, despite how much he was blushing. "No, I was thinking rather that you might be willing to provide a sort of.. faux-partner experience for the purposes of avoiding unwelcome inquiries about one’s 'perpetual solitude'." There was a bite to the last words, though it was clear the ire was not directed at Crowley.
When Crowley just stared at Aziraphale dumbly, still too shocked to do anything but stare, Anathema smacked him on the arm. "He wants you to be his fake boyfriend so his family doesn’t keep trying to set him up with rich idiots."
Crowley swallowed, feeling like he had unknowingly stepped into the Twilight Zone. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. "No, no I got that. I just.. you know? About-?" He looked at Aziraphale incredulously.
"My dear boy, anyone who says they are in ‘entertainment’-" He gave the word sarcastic air quotes. "-is either in adult filmmaking, or a person of the night. It didn’t take long to figure out which, from your not-very-coded conversations." Aziraphale allowed himself a satisfied smirk at the caught out look on the other man’s face.
"And it doesn’t.. bother you?" Crowley was proud of himself for still being able to form coherent sentences, a feat at the moment considering his whole world had just been tossed upside down. His mind was slowly processing the concept that Aziraphale wanted to hire him. He’d made it clear it wouldn’t be a sexual thing, but still, he wanted Crowley to be his fake date. That was something.
"Not at all, dear." Aziraphale looked thoughtful for a moment. "But I suppose we’ll need to come up with a fictitious job title for you, along with a few other details to obfuscate this little ruse. Oh! Provided you’re amenable, of course." He smiled patiently at Crowley, evidently waiting for an answer.
Crowley sputtered inelegantly but managed to squeak out the words, "Very amenable, me.." before melting into a puddle of shyness and too-long limbs. He swallowed thickly, ignoring Anathema’s poorly concealed glee at the developing situation. He pulled himself together enough to ask an important question. "I.. usually charge a specific rate, but this would be... a different kind of work.. so, maybe we can meet up sometime this week and work together on a sum that’s fair? We can work out the other details you mentioned then, too."
Aziraphale beamed at him, and he felt melty all over again. "Excellent! I’m free on Thursday. Perhaps we could meet up for lunch? My treat."
Crowley smiled back at him, excited for this new 'gig' even if it was likely to pay a lot less. "It’s a date." He couldn’t help but notice the way the other man’s eyes twinkled when they met his own. It would be interesting to provide the boyfriend experience without sex being expected at the end of the night. It would be even more interesting with it being Aziraphale that he’d be fawning over. His heavy mood lifted a bit as they settled in to choose the next movie to put on. Conversation drifted to various topics throughout the night, but Crowley’s mind was at some fancy bistro somewhere, doting on Aziraphale while snooty rich folks sneered at him. It sounded kind of fun, truth be told.
Crowley blinked. It didn't seem to help, as the text he received from Aziraphale still said to meet him at the Ritz for lunch. He had a vague idea that Aziraphale came from money, but they hadn't discussed it in detail before. He told himself no matter how much he needed money right now, he would offer a fair rate to Aziraphale. He hadn't done this specific kind of arrangement before - one without any sex at all - so he'd had to come up with an adjusted rate that he felt was enough to make it worth his time, but it was not nearly as much as his usual 'gigs' would pay. He'd already reached out to Tracy tentatively, just to put out feelers, and she'd assured him she could send a few clients his way whenever he needed it. If Aziraphale agreed to the rate Crowley had in mind, he would probably only need to take on a few more clients each month to make ends meet.
The Dowlings certainly had Ritz Money, but they were far more private, and most of Crowley's evenings with them were spent in their lavish McMansion out on the edge of town. It was a bit surreal being led to a table, and Crowley was silently grateful he had been gifted a couple of expensive suits by Harriet last Christmas. He still felt a bit out of place, like someone would discover he wasn't of their ilk and toss him out on his skinny, thrift store patronizing ass before Aziraphale even got here. He spent the next several minutes doing his best impression of Someone Who Belongs Here and Is Not Going To Break Anything when he saw a shock of white hair appear behind a judgy looking waiter whose eyes were locked on Crowley while somehow staring right through him. He grinned back bitchily, and it slipped into something much more genuine as his attention turned to Aziraphale.
"Terribly sorry for running behind, my dear." After confirming Crowley would join him for a bottle of champagne he turned to face the waiter, who suddenly looked a lot more friendly now that Aziraphale's gaze was focused on him. Ahhh. Crowley couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that crossed his face at Aziraphale's complete disregard for the man's fluttering eyelashes and flirty remarks. He ordered with a perfunctory politeness that offered nothing in return, then turned his full attention to Crowley, a bright smile lighting up his face and making it clear who he was here for. If Crowley were a bird, he was fairly certain he'd be puffing his wings up and smugly pigeon strutting right now.
As it was, he shot the disgruntled waiter a parting wink before laying it on perhaps a bit thicker than was expressly necessary. He reached a hand across the table and gently squeezed Aziraphale's hand before releasing it and resting both of his beneath the table. "It's no trouble, angel. I haven't been here long enough to make any new friends, but apparently I've got at least one enemy." He nodded his head in the direction the waiter absconded with an amused expression. Snooty Waiter was glaring at him again a moment later, as he returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses for the table. Aziraphale pointedly ignored the man, and he left looking annoyed (at Crowley) and disappointed (at Aziraphale) after collecting their menus.
Once the waiter was out of earshot, Aziraphale leaned in close to stage whisper, which Crowley found adorable (though he kept that observation to himself for the time being). "I see you've met Arturo." He shook his head, taking a long sip of champagne and twirling the glass in his hands as he spoke. "I like the food here a lot, and I suppose I've become something of a familiar face." At Crowley's raised eyebrows and amused smirk, he rolled his eyes.
"I can't help it if I have standards!" He was enjoying Crowley's snark, and knew the other man didn't actually think any less (or more) of Aziraphale due to his expensive tastes. It was rather refreshing, truth be told. "When I've come here in the past, I have typically dined alone." He glanced in the direction Arturo had disappeared in, as if fearing the man was eavesdropping from somewhere unseen, then looked back at Crowley with a grin that was a combination of amused and surprised. "I believe I may have earned an admirer.. one who isn't especially pleased to see me with such a devilishly handsome companion, it seems."
The smile he gave Crowley was shy, with a hint of playfulness behind his eyes. And oh, how Crowley hoped it meant what his heart wanted it to mean. "You flatter me, angel." He finished the last of his champagne and refrained from refilling it for the time being, opting to save his second glass for after his meal. He looked contemplative for a moment, then leaned closer, long fingers toying with the stark white napkin with a thread count that rivaled his bedsheets. "Wait, if I'm a devil and you're an angel, does that mean you're gonna smite me?"
"Only if you ask nicely, darling." He said it distractedly, almost absentmindedly, as his eyes were locked on the tray in Arturo's hand with an unrestrained delight that made the already handsome face transform into something truly breathtaking. Crowley coughed on the sip of water he was taking, his face going bright red. Did the man even realize what he'd just said?
Crowley was starting to wonder if this whole thing was going to end up with him even more head over heels for the prim blond, who was more self-assured and playful than he'd previously observed from their time spent at Anathema's. Perhaps he would get to see another side of Aziraphale, peel back some of the layers and get to know the person underneath. Wouldn't it be wild if something came of this whole thing? He shelved the thought for now, not wanting to get ahead of himself. As they tucked into their meals in companionable silence, his brain prickled at Aziraphale's offhanded quip. It had to mean.. Crowley was broken from his hopeful pondering by an unfairly erotic noise spilling out of pink lips wrapped around the tines of one very lucky fork. Holy hell.
Aziraphale noticed him looking and gave a sheepish smile, biting his bottom lip for a moment before rolling his shoulder in a sort of 'what can you say' gesture. "I did say I liked the food here." His cheeks had gone a little pink, and Crowley was certain he'd never been more attracted to anyone in his life. He laughed fondly and urged the man to continue enjoying his meal. Aziraphale took a couple of shy bites before Crowley stole a corner of one of the filled pastas and popped it into his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he let out a salacious moan that had a stern-looking woman at the nearest table casting surreptitious scandalized glances in their direction.
The exaggerated performance had the intended effect it seemed, as Aziraphale laughed heartily, blushing furiously now but seeming more at ease. He enjoyed the rest of his meal in a playful back and forth with Crowley, where they would take a bite of their or each other's food and try to make the other laugh with whatever ridiculous noise they could come up with. Crowley forgot to be self-conscious about where he was, and by the time the dessert Aziraphale had ordered for them to share arrived, he was wiping tears from his eyes as their noise level settled into something more acceptable for a fine dining establishment.
The pearl-clutcher and her beleaguered looking companion left after a while, with a final judgmental glare and the sort of upturned-nose-huff that could only be achieved by the moderately rich. The really rich never had to bump elbows with the unwashed masses. The two of them were left in relative privacy as the lunch crowd thinned out. Aziraphale licked the last morsel off of his spoon with a delicate graze of his tongue, and Crowley mused that his list of unrealistic aspirations had never had one on it quite so unattainable as 'becoming silverware'.
"Well, that was lovely, wouldn't you say?" Aziraphale had seemed more focused on enjoying their lunch than going over details, but it seemed he was ready to get down to business as he adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket and folded his hands neatly in front of him. He leveled Crowley with an 'I'm Getting Down to the Point Now' look that had the corners of Crowley's mouth twitching as he fought a smile.
Crowley was fairly certain he had thought the word 'adorable' more times in the past two hours than he had in the past two years. "Delightful, thank you again. Although, you really didn't have to go to such expense.." His eyes flitted around the large room, full of luxury fabrics and impractical but aesthetic pleasing seating. On the way to their table, he had recognized a bottle of bourbon behind the bar that he knew cost at least $700, and it wasn't even near the top shelf. It was all a bit much, though he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a part of him that enjoyed feeling lavish for a brief moment.
"Oh, on the contrary, that is precisely why I chose to bring you here." Aziraphale watched as Crowley tilted his head, not quite following. He attempted to elaborate. "I thought this might be the best way to demonstrate that money is not really an object for me. As such, I'm prepared to pay quite a hefty sum to retain your services. In fact, I'd be happy to pay whatever rate you were charging your previous client. More if you need it."
Crowley's hands flew up in a defensive posture. "No! I couldn't do that, you're barely even asking for-"
Aziraphale held up a finger in protest, and Crowley's mouth snapped shut. His hands tentatively settled back down onto the table, like two frightened birds still unsure if it was safe to land. "Now, hold on a moment. I've not actually gone over the full details of the services I'm requesting." He smiled reassuringly at Crowley, who's mouth mirrored the movement unconsciously. "Perhaps we should start there?"
Crowley nodded reluctantly, still certain he would not allow Aziraphale to pay the rate he'd been charging the Dowlings. It just didn't seem right, even if the man was rich. He wasn't interested in taking advantage of such a sweet soul (or anyone, for that matter), but the money thing was hanging over his head and he was going to need to supplement this job with several others to make up the difference. The thought made his stomach churn a little, but he was determined to do right by Aziraphale no matter the (literal or figurative) cost. He gestured for Aziraphale to continue with what he hoped was a neutral expression as he fretted internally.
That bright smile dimmed a bit, and he seemed to take a moment to assemble his thoughts. "You've heard the broad strokes of course. I'll need your, er, assistance for the next three months. This is where it gets a bit tricky, and why I don't think it unreasonable to pay you your normal rate." He looked away for a moment, a few unreadable emotions crossing his face before it settled back into a muted version of his usual smile. "My family likes to travel. A lot. We'll be going to quite a few different places, and attending a variety of events posing as a couple. For ease of access-" He went slightly pink in the cheeks as he said this but continued without pausing. "-and to avoid any potential accusations of infidelity, I would ask that you agree to an exclusive contract for the duration of our agreement. I will cover all travel expenses and accommodations, and anything else you might need along the way."
He placed his hand over one of Crowley's where it lay on the table, and looked him in the eye with an earnest expression. "Because I would be preventing you from earning additional income, it is imperative to me that you are fairly compensated. I am happy to get into the exact expectations for the events we will be attending, but before I do, is that something you would be comfortable with? And would you allow me to ease your monetary constraints in exchange for enduring countless hours of what boring rich people consider a good time?" His smile reached his eyes again as he squeezed Crowley's hand before letting go. It still tingled with the phantom press of a warm, well-manicured hand.
Crowley could admit all of that was a bit more involved than he'd originally assumed, so he set aside his knee-jerk discomfort and gave it honest consideration. He thought about where they were, the ease with which Aziraphale racked up a bill that would have given Crowley a heart attack. The fact that the man was a goddamn regular here. He huffed in disbelief. Must be nice. He wasn't bitter, at least not against Aziraphale.
He had noticed the quality of his clothing, certainly, and other small details that hinted at wealth and perhaps a bit of hedonistic indulgence in the finer things. He'd also seen the man participate in countless charity events, volunteer opportunities and community outreach events. He never flaunted it, and he gave freely and without interest in accolades or even recognition by name. The man was an angel, and even now he was concerned about Crowley, about making sure he was comfortable and fairly paid for his time and exclusivity. The equation resolved itself in Crowley's head, and he nodded. Slowly at first, gaining confidence as he settled into his decision. "Okay. Okay. Yeah. Let's do it."
The smile he received in return would have knocked him right off his feet if he wasn't already sitting down. His heart thudded in his chest and he smiled back weakly, like someone trying to stare at the sun in awe even as it burned their eyes. Oh, if only Aziraphale knew what that smile did to him. Playing the part of an adoring partner was going to be a walk in the park if Aziraphale kept smiling at him like that. Blue eyes twinkled with excitement and a spark of something else Crowley couldn't quite place. "Splendid." He clapped his hands together. "Now! Let's get into the nitty gritty." The last words were said with a wiggle of fingers that had Crowley biting his lip and finding that word buzzing around in his head once again. Adorable.