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“Azzzzirrrraaaphhhhalllle...” Crowley slumped against a shelf lined with row after row of classic British cuisine. Mushy peas, canned potatoes, soda bread, plain crackers; needless to say all of it was bland, either soft as mud or hard as nails, and nothing was even remotely enjoyable.
“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale said, studying the carefully written out list in the black notebook clutched in his hand. With a careful stroke of a fountain pen (‘Typical’, Crowley thought, ‘he couldn’t even use a modern pen’.), Aziraphale crossed out something and carefully selected a box of crackers to add to his shopping trolley.
“Are you done yet? I’m bored.” Crowley was whining, he had invented whining. Well, Hastur had invented whining when he complained about Crowley, but it had been Crowley who perfected it.
“Well it just so happens that you are in luck, love.” Aziraphale smiled, tucking his notebook and pen back into his jacket pocket and beginning to walk down the narrow aisle. “We are done...”
“Finally!” Crowley shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and strode easily to keep up with the angel’s slow and carefree pace.
“...With this shop.” Aziraphale stopped to examine a scented candle, nodded approvingly, and placed it in the basket. Crowley huffed to himself as the angel placed his purchases on the counter and tried his best to make pleasant conversation with the bored, greasy looking cashier.
“Angel, two things I don’t understand.” Crowley kicked a stray pebble some moments later as the couple strolled down the street side by side, enjoying the sound of it pinging against a storm grate.
“Hmm?”
“Why do you buy things? You’re an ethereal being, can’t you just make things appear?”
“It’s quite fun isn’t it?”
“You call that fun?” Crowley half shouted, half laughed, his mouth turning up at one corner into a half smirk.
“Well, what do you call it?”
“A fucking waste of time if you ask me.”
“My dear boy, it just so happens that I did ask you and I do quite regret it.” Aziraphale sighed, working hard to keep the smile out of his voice.
“We could be doing anything right now.” Crowley stopped in front of the angel on the pavement, his hands thrown up into the air. “We could literally be at the Ritz, in New York, Tokyo. But no. You dragged me to the corner grocers and now who knows where else after-”
“Oh, do be quiet, you like spending time with me.” Aziraphale stepped forwards, shifting his groceries to one hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to Crowley’s cheek.
“Well I suppose I do.” The demon’s voice had gone rather soft and if Aziraphale wasn’t mistaken a faint blush was spreading across the man’s cheeks, light as the sunrise at daybreak. Crowley cleared his throat pointedly, adjusting his sunglasses and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Aziraphale slipped his free arm through Crowley’s, beaming to himself and continuing their walk. “What’s the second thing?”
“What?” Crowley blinked, taken slightly aback with the force of a small train hitting a small brick wall.
“You mentioned two things you didn’t understand, what is the second?”
“Oh, right.” Crowley shook his head slightly. “Why did you have to drag me along? I’m very busy, lots of, er, annoying people to do, glaring at puppies, souring milk, slowing down the internet. Are you hell bent- pun not intended- on torturing me?”
“I thought your lot was all about torture?” Aziraphale laughed, nudging the other man with his elbow.
“And I thought your lot was all about being pristine, untainted, and, how to put this delicately, virginal?” Crowley smiled wickedly, bending his neck to be close to Aziraphale’s ear, relishing as the angel flushed and swallowed hard. A blonde woman with too much hairspray holding her pile of tangled curls together in an ugly knot glared at them, grabbing her son roughly by the forearm and walking quicker, muttering to herself. Crowley frowned, turning to watch her retreating back. She was going to lose her mobile phone, hateful woman wouldn’t be able to find it again. She’d need it too, it seems that her car had a flat tire…
“Fair point.” Aziraphale said, his voice somewhat higher than it had been previously. Crowley grinned, slipping his arm around the angel’s waist, dangerously low on his hips, making the other man blush even more. He was so easy to make squirm, it was addictive. “I didn’t drag you along however.” He paused in front of a used bookstore, looking thoughtful and hungry at the window display.
“Yes you did! And I’m suffering!” Crowley whined, leaning down to rest his head on the angel’s shoulder.
“No,” Aziraphale turned his head, resting his cheek against Crowley’s and smiled. “My dear, I said ‘Crowley, I’m going out shopping, you probably won’t want to join me,’ and then you said, ‘Fuck off, don’t tell me what to do.’ and followed me promptly.”
“Oh,” Crowley frowned slightly. “That does sound like me, yeah.”
“Come on,” Aziraphale grabbed his hand and began to pull him away down the street. “Only three more stops before home.”
Crowley groaned, but deep down he was pleased as he allowed himself to be dragged into yet another shop. He was with his angel after all, things could be worse indeed.