Youth

Part 1

Crowley was bored and supposed he could go visit Aziraphale before the night grew old. He stepped out of his house and with a flick of his wrist locked the door; heading down the street, he could smell the old cobblestone roads in the alleyways and feel the uneven pavement of the sidewalk beneath the soles of his shoes. He looked up at the dark sky, and hoped to see the stars though he knew it would be impossible inside the city. The sky smelt damp and of coming rain. The quiet hum of thunder in the distance gave way to his thoughts as he walked the oh-so-familiar route to the bookshop which was open at all hours of the day and night , everyday of the week.

When he reached the front door, he stared at the glass for a moment, he looked horrible, per usual in his mind. Crowley shrugged it off and walked inside; he called out to his forbidden friend, "Aziraphale? Where are you?"

"In the back, Crowley!"

The sound of Aziraphale's voice washed over Crowley and he instantly felt better. He headed into the back and draped over the back of the chair Aziraphale was sitting in. The angel's head turned and looked up at Crowley, white curls bounced around as he shifted. That ethereal smile he typically wore upon his face.

That damned, angelic smile, it always made Crowley soften a bit. He let a small curl of his own lips happen for a moment. As quickly as it happened, it was gone; memories from thousands of years ago flooded his mind and he had to force them away.

"Crowley, would you like a cup of tea?" Aziraphale had stood from his chair and started the kettle across the room while Crowley was lost in thought.

"Sure, I'd love a cup." He had no idea how long he'd been standing there.

Aziraphale stood, unsure of what that demon was thinking about. He did that so often when they were alone together, suddenly spacing out like that.

He made his way across the room and started the kettle, miracled tea just wasn't as good.

"Crowley, would you like a cup of tea?" The angel turned to look at the demon again.

"Sure, I'd love a cup." His red hair swished across the air as he phased out of his thoughts.

The angel's gentle blue eyes gazed sweetly at Crowley for a moment, hoping that whatever he had thought about was pleasant, though the look in Crowley's own yellow, snake eyes said differently. He turned back to the task at hand and placed two cups on the small kettle table, and then a tea bag in each cup. Silence wracked over the bookshop as they waited on the kettle to boil. Eventually the high pitched whistle became hellishly loud and Azirphale poured the water into the cups.

Crowley didn't like sugar or milk in his tea, the angel knew that well after many years. He handed Crowley his cup and added a bit of sugar to his own before letting it cool off a bit. Crowley dipped his tea bag a couple of times into the hot water so it steeped faster before he took a sip, letting the profound heat fill his mouth and burn through his body. Aziraphale let his cool for several minutes before taking a small sip, his own a luke-warm by that time. The angel hummed at the sensation, loving the warmth as it seeped through him.

He opened his eyes to see Crowley once again spaced out. It was slightly concerning how often he did that. Aziraphale often just left him when he spaced out like that, he learned the hard way how much it pained Crowley when he was pulled from his thoughts forcefully.