Chapter Text
Crowley got off the bed languidly, reaching for a glass of bourbon. He took a quick look at himself in the mirror and grimaced. Grabbing a towel he washed his face off, comb through his hair, and put on the suit sitting on the chair. It was oddly clean but he didn’t bother thinking much about it. As he left the room he grabbed his favorite glasses. He waltzed towards the kitchen and froze.
“Ah! Crowley. You’re awake.” Aziraphale peered at him but immediately looked away. Instead the angel concentrated on the pan in front of him.
Crowley took a deep breath.
“You’re still here…and you’re making pancakes?” Crowley asked.
“I thought you might be hungry.” Aziraphale replied without a single glance at the demon.
“I am actually…but never mind that…you’re still here.” Crowley repeated.
“Well it is my apartment.” Aziraphale replied.
That prompted Crowley to finally take in his surroundings. There were books everywhere. Even in places books had no reason to be. This was definitely not Crowley’s place.
“Why am I still here?” Crowley asked in confusion. Generally, it was Aziraphale’s role to be the confused one and Crowley wasn’t sure he liked this role-reversal.
Aziraphale didn’t answer. Crowley tried searching his memory for answers but everything was so fuzzy. He remembered the pair going out for fine dining. They drank the bar’s full stock. Well, Crowley drank, and Aziraphale mostly watched. The demon remembered that the more Crowley drank the calmer the angel became, the more the angel dared stare at him. What was it his long time friend saw? Darkness? The thought of Aziraphale staring at him made Crowley’s heart thump. That never happened to him. Crowley looked at his clothes.
“Did you wash and iron my clothes?” The demon asked.
“Maybe?” the angel answered.
“What…what happened last night?” Crowley looked down at his shoes for a moment. He never did that. What on earth was happening?
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and actually looked into Crowley’s eyes.
“You don’t remember?”