Coming out to Aziraphale had been easy. He simply oozed kindness and understanding, and his presence was like a warm cup of cocoa, soothing and helping you to forget all of your troubles.

Coming out to Crowley was harder. Not because you thought he wouldn't understand, or because you thought he'd be upset about it, though. With all he had going on with Aziraphale... Yeah, that was complicated. You did your best to keep your nose out of it, even when you wanted to yell at them to just kiss already.

No, coming out to Crowley was more difficult because he had a more intimidating aura. Like, if you didn't know him, you'd think he'd kick your ass for not being straight. The dark glasses that made him look like he was staring at you no matter where his gaze was directed, the hair the color of the fires of Hell, the primarily black wardrobe... Yeah. You knew he wasn't anything to be scared of, but you were nervous anyway. So you made it easier on yourself. You wrote a note with what you wanted to say, and the next time you were alone in the room with the demon, you pressed the little slip of paper into his hand.

He stared at it for a moment. Looked back up at you like you were nuts. Back to the paper. Unfolded it. Read it, mouthing the words as he went. Back up to you. And...

"You know, you could have just told me." He pocketed the note. "Congratulations. Good luck out there with the ladies."