Ineffable Husbands Oneshots

Mille-feuille au chocolat

Aziraphale is trying to open a restaurant with his passion for food. The only issue is, he's terribly clumsy and doesn't know his way around the kitchen... Opening a business is easy for an intelligent and angelic man, but to keep it up? That's another story. After multiple complaints, an agent from a company who specialises in keeping the local business safe to the public appears in Aziraphale's office, a about half an hour after the closing time.

The dark red haired man knocks softly on the closed door labeled "Main Desk". He hears a little squeal from the other side of the room and what seems like books and papers falling on the ground, along with a few chairs. Seconds later, a little man with blond curly hair greets him, his cheeks as red as a strawberry.

"Oh dear! Forgive me for the noise, I got caught up in my things and well, I didn't know anyone was left in here." The man stuttered. "How can I assist you, my dear?"

The man in the dark top hat didn't move as Aziraphale asked the question. He stood there, the glasses in his face covering any sort of expression. Aziraphale looked at him curiously, awaiting an answer. A few seconds passed before the inspector finally breathed again.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, I uh, I got distracted," he started, removing his hat and bowing slightly. "My name is Anthony Crowley, inspection at Hell&Buzz Corporation. We've received a few complaints about the food you serve here. My duty is to assure the safety of the public and so, if you wouldn't mind, I would much appreciate if you let me take a look around the kitchen?" Out of breath, Mr. Crowley took a deep breath, almost gasping for air as he looked at the business owner shyly.

"Oh... Uh, yes, of course... This way." The man answered, his tone much less lively then before. He made his way pass the inspector and unlocked a door now labeled "Kitchen".

"Do you rule this whole place by yourself?" Mr. Crowley asked, looking around the surprisingly clean kitchen. He took out a pen and paper and started writing notes for his future report.

"Well, yes and no. I have a couple of friends who are helping me out from time to time, but they all have a job of their own so, it's mostly me here." He smiled sweetly, brushing his fingers softly around a freshly cleaned pan.

"I see, and who does the cooking?" Removing his glasses, Anthony examined inside the ovens. There was already some meet cooking neatly and slowly. Best for some good flavour. Upon seeing the inspector's irises, Aziraphale froze, his last breath stuck in his throat. When the young man didn't answer the question, Crowley placed the glasses back on his nose and crossed his arms, embarrassed. "What? Never seen eye contacts before?"

"No, I mean yes but," Aziraphale knew he was lying. He was an awful liar himself, so he knew the signs. He'd never such beautiful eyes before. They looked like they were made of gold, even in the poorly lit kitchen. "It's simply, you have absolutely beautiful eyes dear, contacts or not..." He stuttered again, and backing away slowly. His foot suddenly slipped on the freshly clean floor and in his fall, his hand had the unfortunate chance to hit the pan on the counter, sending it flying over Aziraphale's head. The man curled onto himself to protect his head and his ear, but the loud noise never came. He looked up, afraid and saw Mr. Crowley, simply a few inches from his face, pan in hand. Aziraphale blushed deeply, as he felt the warm and cinnamon-like breath on his cheeks. He tried to look away, but he got lost in the other's eyes. Seeing through the man's lies and admiring this unique trait for himself. Anthony coughed lightly, pulling himself back up and  leaving the pan further on the counter so no accident could happen again.

"A-are you alright?" He asked, offering his hand to Aziraphale who was still sitting on the floor.

"I'm quite alright, thanks to you." He smiled, accepting the help. He rose back up and dusted off his white jacket. "Thank you for saving my poor head! You couldn't imagine how much this happens..."

"How so?"

"Well," Aziraphale began. "I've always been a little clumsy around, well anything really..."

"And you're the one handling the knives?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I use my mother's old cook book... Family recipes and all so, I don't think she'd like me sharing the family secret to everyone."

"I see..." Crowley left his hat, glasses and paper on the counter, resting his now free hands on his hips. " I have one last thing to ask of you, Mr. Fell."

"Y-yes?"

"I need to watch how you prepare the food." Aziraphale's hands got warm, his forehead sweating a little bit.

"Oh, oh lord... I-I can't do that! I already have two thumbs on one hand when I cook alone, having someone watch me and judge my every action would probably end up with Armageddon!" He exclaimed, fidgeting with his fingers and looking all around, unable to focus on one thing. Crowley laughed softly at the poor man.

"Don't worry so much, angel. I'll help you." He started, rolling up the sleeves of his black flannel. "Get the hardest recipe and the material needed, I'll find the ingredients." Aziraphale watched as the dark man walked to the sink and washed his hands vigorusly.

"Pardon me, I'm not sure I understand what you mean, dear."

"I'm saying we're cooking a meal together. Come on! I don't have all night." At the words, Aziraphale was unable to stop smiling and pulled out his favourite recipe.

"Mille-feuille au chocolat?" Anthony reads from the paper the owner offered him.

"Indeed! It's french. Absolutely scrumptious!" He said happily. Crowley laughed.

"Alright angel, as you wish." And so started a white night filled with cooking and baking of a dozen different recipes. Mr. Crowley figured out why the complaints were so frequent. The issue was not the quality of the food, but the noise complaints always coming from the kitchen, and maybe also when the salt or the oil was dropped by accident in the bowl making it impossible to eat.

In the early morning of the next day, the inspector left the building with a dozen bags of different treats and meal they had prepared. Crowley didn't remember the last time he had so much fun in a kitchen. With this new job as inspector, he rarely had the chance to do the cooking himself, he usually watched and observed every detail if the procedure. He would never forget this night, and Aziraphale's words. "If you'd like, I wouldn't mind having another baking night, whenever you'd be available, Anthony." His eyes sparkled with joy just to hear him say his name. He agreed to come back again soon, and he did.

After months of late night baking, the two of them made an agreement. Crowley would gladly give his departure as inspector, and he and Aziraphale would now co-own the little restaurant, making it their life's work.