Normally, holidays were always Aziraphale's affairs. But, knowing they were both making an effort and it was Aziraphale's favorite, Crowley had taken it upon himself to make this Christmas a special one. The angel in question, as was customary on lazy Sundays, was making the morning pastry run, leaving Crowley in the flat feigning sleep. Once he was sure Aziraphale had left the apartment, the demon sprang into action. Having no idea of how far was too far, Crowley was intent on a picture-perfect Christmas—said picture being a shot out of one of those sappy American films the angel was always watching.
Aziraphale returned a bit later, bag slightly heavier than normal, having purchased a delightful array of pastries, scones, biscuits, and a French loaf that was far too appealing. Aziraphale paused at the door, smiling as he used the key Crowley had given him. He remembered how flustered his counterpart had been that day, the gaze behind those sunglasses unknowingly anxious. Speaking of the demon, Aziraphale was immediately covered by a slim, warm body upon opening the door.
"Crowley," he began impatiently, "whatever is the problem?"
Crowley would not let him pass. Taking the bags and setting them on the floor, he took Aziraphale's hands in his. "Ssshh. I have a surprise." Having not yet donned his sunglasses this morning, Aziraphale could see the light shining in Crowley's eyes. Whatever it was, it was something big. Aziraphale squeezed the hands in his as a gesture of acceptance. Crowley knew his angel far too well and planted a kiss on the other man's lips. "You have to close your eyes." Aziraphale glanced up, meeting Crowley's hopeful gaze and realized he could deny him nothing. It was Crowley's turn to squeeze. "Trust me?"
Aziraphale smiled, closing the distance between them. "My dear, I do," he promised as he kissed Crowley properly. When they broke for air, both more than a little breathless, Crowley rested his head against the angel's shoulder. "Now. About that surprise?"
"Ah, right! Close your eyes." They once again joined hands, fingers intertwined, as Crowley led Aziraphale farther into the flat before coming to a stop in the living area. "Okay. You can open them now." Aziraphale's shocked gasp was more than audible as he surveyed the room. The Christmas tree in the corner was easily ten feet tall, draped in lights, tinsel, and ornaments. It seemed there were snowflakes or snowmen or Santas on almost every available surface. "Do you like it?" Crowley's voice was soft, almost vulnerable.
"Crowley. This is..." At a complete loss for words, Aziraphale kissed Crowley soundly.
Crowley broke the kiss, a sly smile on his face. "I guess this stuff works after all, then. I might have to leave it up year-round!" Met with the angel's puzzled expression, Crowley pointed above them.
"Mistletoe."