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Anthony was never one for nicknames. He always saw them as pointless, if someone has a name, why not just use that?
That was before Asa.
Asa brought a lot of things into his life that he had never really paid attention to before. Cuisine. Different book genres. Words nobody cares to use anymore. Things Anthony had never thought about became the very things that made him fall in love with Asa over and over again.
It wasn’t even intentional. The nickname just appeared in his mind one day.
They were organizing some of the books in Asa’s shop while Derek sat in the other room, busy reading and ignoring them.
“I could’ve sworn I had put the cooking books near the gardening books” Asa huffed, staring up at the shelves.
His organization had never been standard. Nobody puts gardening next to astrophysics. Well, nobody but Asa.
“They were never near the gardening books. They’re near the self-help and biography section.” Derek called from the other room in his usual bored tone.
“Goodness, I’m a mess. Why would I put them there?” Asa groaned, picking up the box of new cookbooks before handing half of them to Anthony so he could follow him to the correct section.
“You know, you could just get signs so this wouldn’t keep happening.” Anthony suggested. He knew Asa would never do it, but he liked feeling helpful.
“Well that wouldn’t make for good conversation. I wouldn’t have met you if I’d just had signs” Asa said with a small frown before taking the books from Anthony and sliding them onto the shelves.
“Always one for conversation aren’t you, angel?”
Anthony barely realized he’d said it until he saw Asa smile.
“Angel?” Asa repeated softly.
And there he was: Professor Anthony J. Crowley, astrophysicist, blushing in the middle of a bookshop because he’d called his partner angel.
Anthony quickly turned back to the shelves, pretending to be deeply interested in organizing the books.
It had just slipped out.
He wasn’t even sure where it had come from.
Anthony never understood nicknames before. They always seemed unnecessary, overly sentimental in a way that made his skin itch. People already had names. Perfectly functional ones.
But Asa made him understand a great many things he never thought he would.
Angel.
The word had appeared so naturally that it unsettled him,
“You’re blushing,” Asa said gently.
“Am not.”
“Anthony.”
Anthony frowned harder at the bookshelf, as though the cooking section had personally offended him.
Behind them, Derek turned a page in his book. “He absolutely did,” he said flatly.
“Thank you, Derek,” Anthony muttered.
Asa laughed softly, and there it was again, that awful, wonderful feeling of Anthony's chest tightening at the sound.
“Angel,” Asa repeated quietly, like he was trying the word on for size.
Anthony finally looked at him, and immediately regretted it.
Asa was smiling in that small, fond way that always made Anthony feel strangely unsteady, like gravity stopped working properly around him.
Which, frankly, was insultingly ironic for a man who studied gravity for a living.