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"Goddamn it, how is that even possible!" Crowley exclaimed with great annoyance, which ended in another coughing fit. His head pushing deeper into the cushions, his hands pulling the blankets up a bit farther. "Well, I've always said, don't get your wings wet, you'll only get sick. And here we are." Aziraphale stood at Crowley's bed with a concerned expression. Well, it wasn't really his bed. He would've never considered actually lying down, before he met up with Aziraphale again. The angel, of course, didn't wait for long, when he saw the condition he was in, and dragged him, to his actual living quarters behind the book shop. "You sound like my mother. No, worse. You sound smug. You shouldn't sound smug. It doesn't suit you." Aziraphale chuckled. "You must be hallucinating, my dear." After a while of consideration, Aziraphale decided he could try the tea, his guardians would always brow, when he was still a little angel. It mostly consisted of love and compassion, but there were also a couple rose petals in it. When he was done and came back to the bed Crowley had taken quarters in, the demon hadn't moved one bit. His wings were out, blocking the light from his face, that was already partly covered by the pillows. The rest of his body was crammed together under the blankets in a rather small ball of Crowley with one wing lying limb on the other side of the bed. In general Crowley took only about 1/4 of the space the bed had to offer. Aziraphale placed the cup of his self-made tea on the bedside table and then sat down, next to Crowley. "Crowley, I've made you tea." He waited half a minute and when he noticed the demon wouldn't say anything, he continued. "Come on, you'll feel better right away." Crowley moved the wing over his face and opened his eyes only to shoot Aziraphale a sharp look. "I cant drink that, I'm a demon. It already smells spoiled." The angel crossed his arms and pouted. "Oh, don't pout!" Crowley retorted again, although he had already closed his eyes again. "Why do you even care so much? I mean yes, angel and all, but I don't think this also includes demons, does it?" Aziraphale sighed. "But Crowley, that's what friends are for." The angel shook his head. "Now drink. It won't kill you. I promise." Crowley sat up and scoffed, but he did move to pick up the cup. He eyed it precariously, smelled on it, dipped his tongue in it for a moment. He noticed it was comfortably hot, so he took a big gulp of it. And it didn't taste bad at all. Not like it seemed after all. "What did you do to that. This tastes..." "Wonderful, amazing, fantastic?" Crowley smiled. "I was about to say actually fine, but I guess the rest is sufficient, too." Aziraphale seemed delighted, grinning like there was absolutely no harm in the world. "Well, it tastes different for everybody. I knew it should work for demons, too."