Work Text:
Crowley quickly gathered everything he needed in the small kitchen hidden in the back of the bookshop. He didn’t have much time. Aziraphale would be gone for just a few minutes to bring some letters to the post office. In the short time Crowley wanted to make him hot chocolate, so the Angel could immediately warm up after his walk through the freezing outside. But not just any hot chocolate made with boiling water. Instead he grabbed a saucepan, filled it with milk and put it on the stove. Next he gathered the pot filled with cocoa powder and the white mug with two wings on the side; Aziraphale’s favourite.
“All right,” Crowley mumbled to himself. “This isn’t so hard, is it?”
With a snap of a finger the fire on the stove went on. Crowley raised his eyebrows towards it. So far it went better than he expected. He then turned back to the cocoa, but hesitated while he held a spoonful of the brown powder levitating over the mug. How much did he need again? Crowley took a deep breath just before he dropped two spoonfuls in the mug. He refused to give in to the nervousness he felt. It would be worth it when Aziraphale returned and he would see that endearing smile again. Lost in thoughts Crowley stirred in the cocoa powder, until he suddenly heard a strange noise beside him. He turned around to see a white foam spilling over the edge of the saucepan.
“Sht!” Crowley hissed through his teeth.
He was quick to dim the flame a little and stirred firmly in the milk. The foam vanished as quickly as it came, leaving just the milk. Crowley took the mug and placed it on the counter right next to the stove. The milk should be ready now. Or maybe he should let it simmer just for a minute longer. He didn’t want to give the Angel lukewarm chocolate milk. Crowley growled through his teeth. He was hesitating again. He then decided he would clean the spilt milk off the stove first. He grabbed the closest dishcloth he could find and tried to swipe the caked mess away. The flames of the stove didn’t hurt him, but unfortunately the cloth wasn’t demonic. Too late Crowley noticed the fire and smoke coming from the cotton.
“Oh nonononono!” Crowley cursed again while he waved the cloth around, spreading the smoke through the room. Crowley then noticed the white foam slowly creeping back up from the saucepan.
“Agr, not again!” Crowley growled. He clenched the cloth in his fit, ceasing the fire but changing the cotton into nothing more than a pile of ash, and dropped it on the floor. He hurried back to the pan. He had to get it off the stove as quickly as possible. The hot metal did actually hurt him and Crowley quickly pulled his arm away, knocking over the mug in his way. The mug hit the ground and a loud crash filled the room just when Crowley could also hear the bell of the front door. Crowley stood there frozen, staring at the broken white pieces on the floor.
“Crowley, are you there?” Aziraphale asked from the bookshop. His voice already sounded alarmed. Crowley wished he had his dark glasses on, but he had no time to grab them. The only thing he could do was quickly turn the stove off and act indifferent.
“What are you doing in here?” Aziraphale asked. He entered the kitchen, still wearing his jacket. He stuck his nose in the air and pulled a disgusted face after he sniffed a few times. “What is that awful smell?”
“Uhm, well….,” Crowley started, wondering how he could explain this to Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s gaze then turned towards the floor and frowned when he saw his favourite mug lying broken in cocoa powder.
“I can fix it!” Crowley quickly said. “You won’t even see a scratch.” But Aziraphale’s frowning gaze already went up to the stove covered in overcooked milk and then back at Crowley. The Angel tilted his head a little and squeezed his eyes, silently connecting all the dots in his head, while staring at the anxiously waiting Demon.
“Were you trying to make hot chocolate the human way?” Aziraphale asked him.
Crowley released a deep breath. It probably would be best if he didn’t try to make any excuses. “It didn’t really go according to plan,” Crowley confessed.
A smile slowly crept on the Angel’s face. Aziraphale took both Crowley’s hands and raised himself on his toes. “Thank you,” he softly said before he gently pressed a kiss on the Demon’s lips.
Crowley could feel the soft skin in his hands and Aziraphale’s cold nose on his flushed cheek. Too soon Aziraphale parted from him again. The Angel smiled shyly at him, gazing up at the baffled stare the Demon sent back to him.
“But how about we get something to drink at Nina’s instead?” Aziraphale suggested after a while. “She might have some apple pie as well.”
“Agh, sure,” Crowley said, slowly waking up from his trance. “You go ahead. I will be right with you.“
With a content smile Aziraphale left the kitchen. Crowley swiftly cleaned up the kitchen. He put the white angel mug back on the counter, as promised without a scratch on it. He then walked back to the shop. There he could see his Angel already waiting for him at the door with a black jacket and a black pair of glasses in his hands. Aziraphale smiled up at him again. The smile that Crowley had wished for to see. The smile that could warm up the coldest day and clear up all the mess in his head. The smile that was specially brewed for him.