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The bell above the door jangles merrily as Professor Crowley leaves the bookshop.
Asa stares after him. Just stands there, stunned and stupid.
“So that was Professor Anthony Crowley,” Derek says languidly.
“How do you know that?” Asa asks, finally snapping out of his daze.
“Hmm? Well, his name is in big letters on the book you’re still holding,” Derek chuckles, pointing to the book Asa is clutching to his chest. Derek pauses, a thoughtful look on his face, then adds, “Well, aren’t you going to go after him?”
“Why would I possibly go after him?”
“Well, you like him,” he says reasonably. “And it looked very much like he liked you.”
Asa knows the first part is true. How could he not like Anthony Crowley? Such a smart, clever, handsome man. Easy to talk to. But the second part? No.
Asa knows who he is, what he is. He’s an average-looking retired secondary teacher who works part time in an independent bookshop. His idea of a good time is a cup of cocoa and a novel before bed. He sincerely doubts a man like Anthony Crowley is interested in him. They’re not in the same league by any stretch of the imagination, not in any universe.
Asa shakes his head as he turns to the back of the shop where he intends to replace the book he embarrassingly offered to its author and forget the entire encounter.
“He’s been in before, you know,” Derek says as he casually picks up the book he’s been reading all afternoon.
“What?” Asa stops, backs up a few steps, turns to gawk at Derek. “Certainly not. I’ve never seen him. And he asked about the astrophysics books when he came in.”
“Exactly as he asked me last week,” Derek says with a sly grin, still not looking up. He’s a lot sharper than Asa (and obviously Professor Crowley) gives him credit for being. “Acted as if I wouldn’t remember him, but he knew those books were in the back, Asa. And he asked you to take him there.”
Asa’s heart leaps. He looks out the shop window, then back at Derek, who has finally looked up from his book to smile at him. When he nods, it sets Asa into motion.
“I’ll pay for it when I get back,” he says, holding up Professor Crowley’s book. “Which way did he go?”
Derek gestures to the right with a nod of his head, chuckling. “Don’t forget your jacket.”
The damp and chill hit Anthony as soon as he steps out of the bookshop. What the hell just happened? It was over before it even began.
He’d first seen the bookseller weeks ago while staring out the window of the café across the road. He’d stopped in to get out of the rain, and nursed a cup of coffee for far too long. The sturdy blond had caught his eye, and Anthony was intrigued. Later, when Anthony became a regular at the café, it all started to feel a bit stalkerish. He went from ordering coffee to having lunch, spending more and more time watching the man come and go. Soon enough Anthony had begun drifting over the road to the bookshop, pretending to look at the displays but actually trying to catch a glimpse of broad shoulders inside. A shame they were always framed by a terrible cardigan, but Anthony knew that was just window dressing and paid it no mind.
After weeks of this, Anthony made the decision to go in and ask about a book on astrophysics; at least he was familiar with the subject. Sadly, when he’d finally gathered up the courage, the badly dressed bookseller wasn’t there. Anthony had just missed him, or so the man at the till, Derek his name was, had told him.
But standing outside at the door, Anthony can see that he’s in there now. He can see his plush belly in that god-awful yellow knitted waistcoat. Yes, he’s in there, and Anthony is determined to meet him.
Anthony takes a deep, calming breath and opens the door, the bell ringing merrily.
“Excuse me.”
Derek is at the till again, and he doesn’t even look up. He knows what Anthony’s about; Anthony can feel it.
“Yes? Can I help you?” The bookseller is distracted, and uses his best customer-service voice as he turns. His face changes subtly when he sees Anthony, and that is encouragement enough.
“Yes, I was just passing by the shop,” Anthony lies through his teeth, his voice stronger. “I was wondering if you have any books on astrophysics.” His eyes dart to Derek, who gives nothing away.
“Astrophysics? Derek, do we have any books on astrophysics?”
Now Derek looks up, but barely, as if he can't be arsed to care. “They’re in there,” he says, pointing to the back room. “Beside Gardening. Opposite Philosophy.”
The bookseller looks a bit flustered. “I knew that,” he says, and Anthony can’t help it when his lips quirk up just a little. Adorable he is. “Um… this way.”
Anthony follows him to a small back room, unsure of what he’s going to say, but determined to say something. He’s finally here. The least he can do is get the man’s name. Maybe ask him for coffee.
“Ah, here we are. Astrophysics for Everyone. From the Big Bang to the Pillars of Creation.” The bookseller holds out a very familiar tome, and Anthony cringes. “We’ve had this for years,” the man says conspiratorily. “I think I can probably give it to you for half price.”
If Anthony is thinking things can’t get worse, he’s quite wrong.
“You have no idea how much that hurts me,” he says. He’d meant it to sound like a joke, a bit flirtatious, maybe an opening volley in a round of witty repartee, but it lands poorly. The bookseller looks up quickly, shocked and hurt.
“Oh, did I say something wrong?”
“No. I shouldn’t have said that. No… I, um, I wrote it.” Fuck. This is not going well at all.
“Oh. Oh. Well, right. Well, you don’t want your own book. Probably already got a copy.”
He looks embarrassed, and Anthony feels like an ogre. Who would hurt this gentle man? Well, in point of fact, it appears he would.
“Two boxes in the garage.” And he keeps talking, making things worse. Time was, he might not have been able to say two words to a man he found himself attracted to. Now he can’t seem to shut himself up.
The bookseller—and why isn’t he wearing a name badge?—looks through the shelf and pulls out an older book. He looks enquiringly at Anthony.
“Well, how about this? It’s not exactly cutting edge, but…”
“Oh, this is Arthur Eddington’s book on relativity.”
“Second edition, I’m afraid.”
“This— I’ve always wanted a copy of this. Oh, wonderful. This is my lucky day.” Anthony smiles.
“Oh, good. Mine too.” And the bookseller’s smile is absolutely gorgeous. He looks incredibly pleased.
So of course Anthony has to ruin it.
“How so?” he asks, not thinking, and the man turns shy, looks flustered.
“Because I have, um, a book you want.”
“Fair enough. Oh, twenty pounds. Wonderful. Thank you.”
For the life of him, Anthony cannot think of a reason to stay in this small, intimate room with this lovely man, so he turns to the front, mentally kicking himself for not asking for his number, or asking him for coffee. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even ask his name.
When he gets up front, Anthony hands the book to Derek.
“Did you see we’ve got a couple of Brian Cox’s? And that Big Book of Astrophysics for Everyone?”
“No, no. He’s the author, Derek,” the bookseller says, jumping in and showing him the book he is holding in his hands. “He’s got two boxes in his garage.”
“I definitely shouldn’t have mentioned that,” Anthony says sheepishly. He looks at the bookseller, wishing he would look back, that it could be a private joke, an intimate moment they might share. No such luck.
Soon enough, the transaction is made, and Derek is sending him on his way. It's almost as if he senses Anthony’s failure on this second try, and he's disappointed in him.
“There you are,” Derek says. “Enjoy.”
Anthony hesitates, but what else is there to say? “Well, thank you,” he offers. And he walks out the door.
He takes off down the street, already determined to try again. It’s a bookshop. He can go back. Of course he’ll have to wait a while…
“Oi! I mean… Excuse me. Stop.”
Asa is running to catch up to Anthony Crowley, who is walking slowly but has very long legs. Of course Asa is a bit out of shape, so he’s getting winded, but he’s very nearly caught him now.
“Oh, sorry,” Anthony says. “Did I leave something? Is everything okay?”
Asa holds out the book he’s been carrying ever since he picked it up all those long, life-changing minutes ago.
“Oh, I told you,” Anthony says with a grimace. “Two boxes.”
“No. I know.” Asa feels his face turn pink. He hopes Anthony thinks it's from running to catch up to him, or from the damp, chilly air. He actually is out of breath. “Um… Sorry, a bit puffed. Um… I bought it. Would you… could you… sign it for me?”
Anthony smiles. “Of course. What’s your name?”
“Fell. Asa Fell. With an S.”
Anthony looks at him, gestures. “Do you have a—”
“Oh, sorry. Yes.” And Asa pulls a pen from his jacket pocket. Anthony begins signing, and Asa screws his courage to the sticking point.
“I need you to write your number down too. For me. So I can ask you to dinner.” His heart is beating so loudly he is sure Anthony can hear it. Anthony looks up and stares at him. “And you’ll say no, and um… but at least I’ll have asked.” It’s the best he can do. He’s glad he’s done it.
“I’m not going to give you my number,” Anthony says, his voice serious and grave. Asa’s heart nearly stops beating at the look on his face.
“No. No, no, no. Sorry.” And he is. Sorry to have put Anthony in such an awkward position.
And then, it’s as if the sun has broken through the clouds. Anthony is smiling—at him.
“I’ll wait for you,” he says. “Where are we having dinner?”
Asa suggests they meet at the pub up Berwick Street, and Anthony goes ahead to get a table. When Asa returns to the bookshop, a soppy smile on his face, he sees Derek has finally put down his book and is pottering around, tidying up and pulling the blinds.
“I had a feeling things were going to turn out this way,” Derek says when Asa asks why he’s closing at only half five.
“What way?”
Derek only laughs in reply. “Help me lock up. Then you can run up and get ready for your date.”
“It’s not a… a date,” Asa stammers. “I’ve only asked him to dinner.”
“Just so,” Derek says. “Well, best get a wiggle on.”
After closing the blinds and setting the alarm, they part ways, and Asa goes up to his flat to do something. He puts on cologne and a bow tie, brushes his teeth and checks his hair. When he finds himself taking another look in the mirror, he realises he’s stalling, but why?
He supposes it’s habit, the fact that he thinks he should feel anxious. Or nervous. Or on edge.
But no. He really doesn’t.
Yes, he’s excited, maybe even slightly giddy. But what he’s feeling is more a sense of anticipation, a kind of fizzing excitement, and it’s nothing he’s ever felt before any other… Yes, alright, any other date.
Damn you, Derek, he thinks as he chuckles, his chest loose and open.
No nerves, then, just the anticipation of the wonderful evening he is sure he will have with Anthony Crowley.
He isn’t wrong.
Dinner with Anthony is less like awkwardly getting to know a stranger and more like catching up with an old friend. They swap stories and share secrets, sometimes finishing each other’s sentences, sometimes sitting in rapt silence, chin set on a palm, leaning close to catch every detail.
They are of a similar age. Early fifties. Never married, they both always seemed to be waiting for something... or someone. Anthony has his work at the university, Asa taught students through sixth form, English literature, before retiring a few years ago. When Asa left, he thought he would travel, but Derek asked him for help, so he stayed.
Their smiles come easily, as does the laughter. There are casual touches to an arm, the top of a hand. Only to emphasise a point, mind. And the time passes much too quickly.
Asa insists on paying the bill because he’d asked Anthony, so Anthony quickly asks if they might go out again on Saturday so he can repay the favour. Asa agrees.
Of course he agrees.
Too soon they are standing on the pavement outside the pub, awkwardly shuffling their feet like schoolboys. Asa can’t find a way to say goodbye.
“I had a wonderful time,” Anthony says. “Car’s just up this way,” he says, pointing past the bookshop.
“I’ll walk with you,” Asa offers. Anything to spend a few more minutes together.
“Did you walk?”
“Mmhmm,” Asa hums, nodding.
“So it mustn't be far,” Anthony says. “Please, let me walk you home. Where do you live?”
“Above the bookshop,” Asa says with a laugh, and Anthony laughs with him. They can see it from where they're standing. It takes them mere minutes to get there. When they do, Asa takes Anthony round to the back entrance, where they huddle under an awning that protects them from the light rain that has begun to fall.
“Can I have your number now?” Asa asks teasingly, holding out his mobile. “I’d like not to lose you, now that I’ve found you.” He wants to say again, though he doesn’t quite know why.
“I feel the same,” Anthony says shyly. He takes Asa’s phone, puts in his contact information, then Asa hears a chime as Anthony sends himself a text. As he hands back the mobile, their fingers brush, and Asa inhales sharply. He slides the phone into his jacket pocket, then looks down to where Anthony’s hand is hanging casually at his side.
Being brave twice in one day is unprecedented for Asa, but Anthony is worth it, so he slips his hand into Anthony’s, interlacing their fingers. Anthony’s hand is slim and cool, and their fingers fit together as if they had been made from a single mould, then broken apart.
This is where we are meant to be, Asa thinks. He doesn’t understand why he thinks that, but he believes it.
When he looks up, Anthony is much closer, and he is staring at Asa. His eyes dart between Asa’s eyes and his lips. Asa takes a small, shuffling step closer to Anthony and wraps his arm around his slim waist. At the same moment, Anthony places a hand on Asa’s hip, pulling him closer. There is a question in his eyes, and Asa nods.
Anthony tilts his head slightly and presses his warm lips to Asa’s.
Asa hasn’t been kissed in years, but more importantly, he has never been kissed like this. Softly, sweetly, properly. As if the kiss itself is the centre of the universe and the beginning of everything.
It’s over much too soon, and when Anthony pulls away, it’s all Asa can do not to chase after him. But then Anthony presses their foreheads together and sighs.
“Been wanting to do that since you asked me to sign my own damned book. Knew it would be perfect.”
Asa wants more. He wants it all. But he takes the kiss as the offering it is, then says goodnight. Somehow he knows they have the rest of their lives to figure out the rest of it.
He isn’t wrong.
Six months to the day after their first date, Anthony is on one knee, proposing to him. The next day they go to the registry office, and a month after that they are married.
“Why wait?” Anthony says. “We’ve waited all our lives.”
It’s too soon, friends warn. You don’t even know him, they say.
The admonitions stop some time after Anthony and Asa celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. As they approach their twentieth, those same friends start asking for the secret to a long and happy marriage. Anthony and Asa don’t know what to tell them; their story is unique to them.
Since meeting in the bookshop that fateful day, they've always felt as if they've known one another forever. Sure, sometimes, one of them will tell a story from his younger days, and it becomes clear that they haven’t actually known each other all along, not even half their lives. When it happens, it’s always a surprise.
But there was nothing surprising about their love.
It was early days when Anthony articulated all that Asa had been feeling from the moment they met.
“You are the other half of me, Asa,” Anthony said with tears in his eyes. “It was as if I had been looking for you, even without knowing it, and as soon as I saw you, my search was over.”
The years fly by, and within them Derek dies. Asa and Anthony have been his carers, and the loss hits hard. Their life feels emptier without him in it. It’s a harsh reminder of the passage of time, a reminder that no matter how much they wish for it, they don’t have infinite days. Sometimes they get so caught up in the mundane—doing the washing up, paying the bills—that time ticks by without them even noticing.
But they are so good about making sure they get caught up in the less mundane as well. Listening. Laughing. Loving.
Asa inherits the bookshop, and continues to run it with the help of volunteers while he waits for his husband to retire. He waits patiently. He knows if he were to ask, Anthony would put in his resignation immediately. There is no doubt in Asa’s mind the order of Anthony’s priorities: Asa, the heavens, his students.
They celebrate their twentieth at the pub where they had their first date. That night, Anthony quietly suggests they take another trip to South Downs National Park. They’ve been so many times that it should be merely an idea, a casual thought. But somehow Asa knows this is something more. While Anthony packs his telescope and other equipment, Asa packs their stargazing supplies—blankets and pillows and a cooler with food and beverages. Anthony assures him he’s made overnight reservations, and they set out the next day.
The accommodations are lovely: a cottage near the park with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, a lounge with a fireplace, and a spacious bathroom with a clawfoot tub. Anthony walks out back and finds a perfect spot for stargazing—behind a short wall, just under an apple tree.
“Asa, we don’t need to go to the park at all,” he says as he wanders back into the kitchen. “I can set up here, see everything just as well.” He takes his husband into his arms and kisses him. “Let’s get dinner in town, then come back to watch the show.”
After an evening spent drinking cocoa and stargazing, they climb into bed. After a moment, Anthony turns to Asa.
“I need to ask you a question.”
“So serious, love,” Asa teases. “If you’re about to propose, the answer is yes.”
“Very nearly that,” Anthony mumbles. “Do you like it here?”
“I do. It’s lovely.” Asa knows there is more. “Do you?”
“I do. I like the quiet. And the sky. And being alone with you. We’ve not had that, not ever.”
“Yes, I know. I like it, too. What are you really asking me?”
“Would you like to move out of London? Live here?”
“Live in the South Downs?”
“Not as such,” Anthony says. “Actually live here. In this cottage. I… it’s for sale. That’s why I wanted to visit this weekend, so we could, I don’t know. Give it a test drive?” Anthony looks so eager, his face so animated, that Asa leans over and kisses him. That earns him a smile. And more kisses.
“Yes, love. Let’s talk more tomorrow. But I’m thinking I will probably say yes.” With that, he clicks off the light on the bedside table and pulls his husband into his arms. In fact, he knows he will say yes. If this is what Anthony needs, it’s settled, because Asa’s home is here, in his arms. It doesn’t matter where they live.
They meet with the estate agent later that week, settle on a price, and keep all of the furnishings. Anthony tenders his resignation at the university and Asa sells the bookshop with barely a look back. It’s time for a change, and they’re ready to make it.
The nice thing about being retired at their age is that they are young enough to still enjoy it. That’s why Asa left teaching when he did. He wanted a second act, and he got one when Derek, who had been his own teacher all those years ago, asked him to work with him at the bookshop.
For Asa and Anthony, these are the really precious years, the years where they have the money, and good health, to take advantage of the free time retirement affords them. The years before their bodies began to complain about too much travel and too little sleep in strange beds. They spend them visiting all of the cities they have talked and dreamt about for the past twenty years. They eat and drink their way around the world. They visit ancient and modern wonders, touring museums, libraries, and observatories. They generally live as if they have all the time in the world.
Of course, they don’t.
Eventually Anthony’s dodgy heart lands him in hospital. He’s fine, but he needs surgery and medication, a change of diet and physiotherapy. His doctor tells him to slow down. Asa worries so much that Anthony is sure he’ll be next.
Sticking closer to home, they work in the back garden, creating a personal paradise of eclectic items they have gathered on their journeys. Their treasures wouldn’t mean a thing to anyone else, but to them each one is a precious reminder of a visit to some far-flung corner of the world. Their own personal museum.
And they have their night sky.
They sit most nights under their apple tree, under the heavens, holding hands. Tonight is just such a night.
“Cocoa delivery.”
“Oh.”
Anthony’s quiet acknowledgment makes Asa smile. When his head is in the heavens, it can take some persuading to get his husband’s attention.
“Oh, it’s scrumptious,” Asa says, hoping the silly phrase will make Anthony laugh. Not a chance. “There you go,” he says, placing the hot mug carefully in his husband’s extended hand.
“How are the celestial bodies tonight?” he tries. “Behaving?”
This, it seems, is the right question.
“It’s the Eta Aquarid meteor shower,” Anthony says, sitting back. “We mightn’t need the telescope. We can see it with the naked eye.”
“Ahh, well. Maybe we should look at them together,” Asa says with a satisfied sigh, happy to have at least a portion of Anthony’s attention. “Oh, look. A shooting star.” He smiles and closes his eyes.
“Technically, it’s meteorite debris from Halley’s comet,” Anthony says pedantically.
Asa is used to such behaviour from his professor husband, so he waves it away, scoffing at him. “Well, I know it’s not a real shooting star, but I want to make a wish.”
“Oh,” says Anthony, chastised. “All right.”
Asa sits, eyes closed, a smile on his face. He is as happy as he’s ever been. What can he even wish for? More time with Anthony? More nights like this? That they will always be together, never parted? Ahh, that’s the one.
“There,” he says when he is done, content.
They sit, sipping their cocoa, watching the sky, listening to the night sounds.
“Do you hear that bird?” Anthony asks. “That’s definitely a nightingale.”
“How can you tell?”
“Well, it’s not an owl,” Anthony says tetchily. “And it’s night.”
Asa laughs at him, teases him a bit. “You wouldn’t know a nightingale if it perched on the end of your nose.”
“It’s definitely, definitely a nightingale,” Anthony says to himself.
“Do you ever wonder if there is anything more than this?” Asa asks, pointing to the sky.
Anthony takes his question seriously, as if he has thought about it before. “I don’t need anything more than this,” he says. “I have the universe out there, and I have you.”
Asa scoffs, looks at his husband fondly. Then Anthony takes his hand.
“I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Their world continues to shrink. They remember when they were caring for Derek, remember how it was as he aged. And sooner than they like, they have their own carers—lovely young men and women from the nearby village who pop in to make sure they have meals, that their medications are sorted, that they have rides to their doctor visits.
Their neighbours start to check on them each morning and night. Just… in case.
Because time is a beast, and it is growling at their door.
But Anthony still has everything he's ever wanted. He still has the universe. He still has Asa. And Asa's wish is still coming true. They're together, never parted.
They sit in their garden as the weather permits, side by side in the old Adirondack chairs, repainted each year. Every night as Asa takes his husband’s wrinkled hand—thinner, more delicate than it was all those years ago—he notices they still fit together as if they were made from one mould. It always makes him smile.
They watch the sky, drink their cocoa, marvel at how lucky they are to have this life. To have this love.
That’s where a kindly neighbour finds them one morning. In their garden, hands intertwined, together beneath their sky and their apple tree.
With everything they’d ever wanted, exactly where they wanted to be.