And Your Nemesis Closer (E)
A #GoodOmens rom-com AU by beerok23 for @di-42 via @fandomtrumpshate
Summary
There is definitely something worse than having to plan an entire art exhibition centering around the precious inherited painting you’re too broke to hold on to with your hereditary enemy, and that is doing all of the above while being hopelessly attracted-to and most definitely despised-by said hereditary enemy. When art-critic Anthony J. Cleaver-Crowley finds himself in such a predicament, he can only hope entrusting Cabanel’s Nemesis, once belonging to his late grandfather, to the angelic hands of esteemed curator Aziraphale Darcy-Fell is the right thing to do. He’ll just have to set his prejudice towards the Darcy-Fells and his totally minor crush on the man aside. And hope he won’t make too much of a fool of himself in the process. And keep the Cleaver-Crowleys’ reputation intact. Which, as you can guess, Crowley can do with his eyes closed. Mostly. Given the right circumstances. He just needs to find a way to keep this work arrangement strictly professional before he and his own nemesis cancel each other out…
~🎨🎨🎨~🎨🎨🎨~🎨🎨🎨~🎨🎨🎨~🎨🎨🎨~
Chapter 4/6: The Empire of Light [8k~]
While he’s setting up his birthday dinner, Crowley gets a surprise visit from Fell and things get heated.
🎨 Read Chapter 4 on Ao3 or start from the beginning 🎨
A huge thanks to my beloved beta @hermiola
Excerpt from Chapter 4
“At what time are your friends arriving?” “They are going to be here any minute.” “It’s too late to go and buy something,” Fell said, looking at his bloody pocket watch (not dressed for the occasion my arse). “Maybe we could… do something ourselves.” We? “Do you have any eggs?” “Erm… I don’t know, maybe,” Crowley replied, still too shocked by that nonchalant ‘we’ to try to remember what the fuck he had in his fridge. “We could make crêpes.” Crowley let his sunglasses slide on his nose as he stared at Fell with incredulity, his lack of faith in his cooking skills a little too obvious. “Art curator, bookseller, cook, good old fashioned lover boy.” (This cost him another eye-roll.) “Is there anything you can’t do?” “You’ll have to see for yourself, won’t you?” Oh, don’t worry, angel. I have every intention to. “Right. Follow me.” They relocated in the kitchen and Crowley took the chance to take off his sunglasses and leave them on the counter. “What do you need to prepare your beloved crêpes à la Fell?” asked Crowley as he opened the fridge in search of the bloody eggs. “First and foremost, I need you to take this very seriously. I don’t tolerate lack of discipline in my kitchen.” (A pause.) “Or in any other room.” Crowley dropped an egg on the floor and it cracked open. For fuck’s sake, thank Someone he hadn’t been staring at Fell while he said that. “Shit,” he muttered as he cleaned up the mess. “Slippery hands, Crowley? I hope this isn’t a permanent condition?” Crowley cast a murderous look at Fell over his shoulder.
