Work Text:
Aziraphale stood, stunned, covered in flour as Crowley tried to hold in his laughter.
“I warned you, go slow. S’why I stayed over here.”
Aziraphale got a mischievous gleam in his eye and before Crowley knew what happened, a handful of very wet batter covered in loose flour hit his chest. His jaw dropped and he sputtered a moment before stalking forward.
Aziraphale started backing away with a chuckle, not getting far before Crowley struck. He quickly wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, squishing the mess between them.
“Noooo! My favorite apron!” Aziraphale laughed.
“Serves you right!” Crowley smooched his cheek.