Ineffable Husbands Oneshots

Home Made Soup

(Angst)

It had been a month since Armageddon had ended. Life was simply delightful now for the angel, Aziraphale. His bookshop was as occupied as ever, and he and Crowley had not been disturbed since their "punishment". The demon had tempted the angel every single night for the past few weeks. It is always a good reason to go out of his flat to see his angel's bright smile everytime he orders his favorite meal.

But that evening was different. For some unknown reason, Crowley didn't see it as appropriate to go out with the angel. He found it dangerous and risky. The realization made him feel somewhat paranoid. He was afraid to even call Aziraphale, for fear something would happen. He barely even dared to think about him.

As for Aziraphale, after he closed the store for the day and had his daily cup of tea, he was waiting in his favorite chair, by the phone, waiting for the ring. He sat there for a good half hour, with no luck. It was strange not to hear from his friend. Even if they didn't go out, he always called, asking about his day, making sure he was alright. Having no news made Aziraphale anxious. He decides to call himself. Maybe he just fell asleep and didn't see the time pass by?

He waited as the phone rang its steady melody. But to no avail. Crowley didn't answer. Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but it made him uneasy. Maybe he could go to the demon's place? See if he's alright.

After a few minutes, Aziraphale was standing in front of Crowley's front door. He doesn't remember ever going inside the house. He knows the demon is quite secretive about his personal belongings. Whenever they hung out, it was either at the park, at the Ritz or at his own place. He knocks softly at first, to no answer. Aziraphale then knocks harder, still no response. He tries to open the door, to his luck, it is unlocked. He enters carefully, calling Crowley's name.

"Crowley? Are you in here dear?" No one answers. The room is dark, with the walls all painted in black, the curtains closed. The whole house seems empty until Aziraphale hears the floor crackle under somebody's weight. It comes from upstairs. He lets himself in, removes his brand new shoes and walks towards the giant staircase. There are two on each side of the entrance, rounding up towards the second floor. Crowley's flat is much more fancy then he imagined. He always thought the demon would be somewhat careless about it, but he was clearly wrong.

The angel carefully walks up each step, whispering the demon's name again. Once he reaches the top, there is only an endless hallway that leads to giant black doors. There are paintings all along the corridor, faint lights lighting each of them. Some faces Aziraphale recognized, other are not familiar at all. He reads the name under the portraits. 'Selene LaFontaine'. Another reads 'Thomas Linh'.

"What are you doing here, angel." Aziraphale jumps, turning around towards the room at the end of the hall.

"Oh! Crowley!" Aziraphale brings a hand to his heart, taking slow breaths. "You scared me. Are you alright, dear?" He takes a few tempting steps towards the demon.

"Yes. I'm fine." Aziraphale tried to look closer to the demon's features. The unlit room made it hard, but the angel could still see the puffy eyes, and the worried look.

"Oh, Crowley.... You're clearly not okay! Do you want me to make you some tea? I'll make you some diner too. How about some soup?" Before Crowley could argue, Aziraphale was already heading downstairs rambling a bunch of things.

Crowley forces himself out of the room, dressed in his robe, and puts on his dark glasses to hide his fresh swollen eyes. As he paces down in the dark house, Crowley stops in the kitchen's doorway. Seems like Aziraphale found his way quite easily. He always had a sixth sense when it came to food. Or he just miracled his way too it. We never know.

The angel searches around the cabinets and inside the fridge looking for something to make soup, like he said.

"Do you happen to have vegetables? Or any food for that matter?" All the cabinets were empty, except for a few old cans of beans.

"No. We don't need to eat. I don't bother with the social interaction at the grocery store." Crowley explains. Aziraphale nods and snaps his fingers. A sudden white cloud appears on the stove before disappearing leaving a boiling pot. The room automatically smells amazing. The demons stands once more and sits at a barstool, related to the counter.

"You don't mind some chicken in it, do you? I find it's always a reconforting taste. Reminds me of something a grandmother would make, not that we actually have one..."

"I don't care." Silence fills up the room. Aziraphale finds two bowls, serving the hot meal to each other. Aziraphale sits next to the demon, not saying anything. He starts to eat, still in silence. Crowley picks up his spoon, and starts to play with his soup. He was not very hungry. The angel's effort was appreciated, yet he felt, no, he knew he couldn't fall for it. It was wrong for an angel to tempt a demon. They couldn't continue to do this. He had to end it. All of it.

Aziraphale is sitting next to the demon, eating his soup in silent in the dark kitchen. The night is about to settle in, blinding him. He can still hear Crowley's spoon picking up some of the liquid, and dropping it back into the bowl. Aziraphale finally decides to break the silence.

"Do you not want some, dear? I know we don't have to eat, but you are truly worrying me. Do you maybe want to discuss the matter?" Crowley mumbles something quietly. Unable to understand what he said, Aziraphale asks again.

"We have to stop this, Aziraphale." By his surprise, the angel pushes his bowl away, his appetite suddenly faded. Crowley never called him by his full name.

"What are you saying?" He asks wary.

"We-" Crowley pauses. He takes off his glasses, and wipes away a suttle tear quickly, hoping Aziraphale wouldn't notice, which he did. "We can't keep going. We- we can't see each other anymore..."

"Crowley... We talked about this before! Remember, during the apocalypse, when we went our own ways? How everything was so... strange without each other around? And how everything was working so well when we finally found each other again?" The demons stays silent, unable to control his tears any longer.

"It's not the same, angel! We were in a war, we had to fight together to win. Now, I have a bad feeling about all of it."

"What kind of feeling?" Crowley hesitates. He stands firmly, holding himself up on the counter.

"I- I can't explain it. I-It's like, every single demon I know, is trying to warn me. That they might find me. Destroy me even... I can hear them sometimes, when I'm sleeping." He gasps for air, between sobs. "I-I'm afraid, Aziraphale. I can't, I won't let them hurt you." The demon falls into the angel's arms, exhausted, weak, afraid. Aziraphale doesn't reply. He let's Crowley cry, knowing he would feel better afterwards. He strokes his red hair gently, reassuring him that he is not going anywhere. He is here to support and help him through whatever it is that's going on in his mind.

After a couple hours, they are now both sitting on the sofa, Crowley layed on the angels legs, who is still petting the snake. They haven't said a word since, just enjoying the moment. Letting it all sink in. When suddenly, Crowley breaks the ice.

"I never wanted to scare you, angel."

"I know, dear. It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But what if I do? What if that jerk Gabriel makes you fall, because of me?" Aziraphale stops his strokes and looks down into the demons golden eyes.

"Is that what's worrying you? That I might fall?" Crowley nods softly. Before he knew it, the angel was dropping a small peck on his lips. "I've already fallen for you a thousand times, I don't think another one would be the end of the world. I would be with you, until the end of times." Crowley smiles shyly. "I promise you, I'll always love you, Anthony J. Crowley. No matter what." Crowley leans in for another kiss, which he'd been craving for eras.

"I love you too, my angel."