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Visiting the South Downs wasn't just a holiday for selkies like Crowley. Sure, selkies often swam south for the winter, where they could enjoy slightly warmer waters or simply live as humans until spring arrived. After all, living as a human and living with fellow selkies in their winter cottages meant enjoying a nice, warm fireplace and all the fish stew one could eat.
It was a rite of passage for a young, unwed omega like himself to head south alone, during spring and summer, and to return in autumn with a mate. The thought of traveling south alone was quite enticing, though he was mostly doing this to get away from his family for a few months. His youngest sibling Muriel was fine, and he felt bad leaving them with their older siblings, though he certainly wasn't going to miss the others giving him a hard time about not having a mate.
He wondered if he could stay there. His family would probably come looking for him after a few months, though Crowley could only hope to find some stable housing and maybe a job at that point.
Either way, he was relieved to be there, the warm waters against his flippers and tail, seafoam tickling his nose and back as he swam against the currents.
Night drew closer, and he realized he was hungry for something other than fish. One of the beachgoers had left behind some shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt, so he stripped off his selkie skin and waded out of the water to put on those forgotten clothes.
As he walked down the boardwalk, he glanced up at the maroon sunset. He wasn't used to seeing these skies in the Arctic Circle, where the sunsets were pink and lavender. The first time he saw these skies as a seal pup, he remembered screaming, thinking that the sky was on fire. His mother comforted him, reminded him that the sunset looked different everywhere, and that his hair was the same color as the South Downs sunsets.
He eventually found a food vendor selling fish and chips, and Crowley decided that maybe he did want fish, even if it was fried instead of fresh. Those chips looked and smelled delicious too.
With food in hand, Crowley made his way back to the beach and settled in sand beneath a pier. No matter how many years went by, he never got tired of the smell of the sea salt wind. Eventually, the wind got chilly, so he draped his seal skin over his shoulders and watched as seagulls flew overhead.
It was then when he felt someone else sit beside him, and he found himself face to face with a deer. Crowley pulled away slightly, shocked but not unwelcoming of this visitor. He knew there were deer in the South Downs, but he couldn't recall seeing them this close to the shore.
"Umm, hi," he said cautiously.
The deer huffed, then sat down next to him, revealing its brown fur, the spots on its back, and its prominent antlers. With another shift, the animal changed into a blonde man with a soft, broad build, the spotted brown skin still wrapped around him. His grey eyes looked at Crowley, and Crowley looked back, blinking.
"You're not like the selkies around here," he said matter-of-factly.
"That's cuz I'm not," Crowley said. "My family's mostly from Iceland, though we come here in the winter."
The man-deer glanced around, a slight frown on his face. "Not winter here."
Crowley smirked. "Family's convinced I'll find a mate here this summer," he told him, "though mostly I just want peace and quiet."
"Well," the man said, "if it's peace and quiet you want, I have a room above my shop you can rent. It's an old bookshop, but hardly gets any customers." He sniffed the air, and his grey eyes darkened. "Also have all that you'll need as a shapeshifting omega."
Crowley offered him some fish and the man politely took some. It probably wasn't the smartest idea, taking up space in a stranger's place, but it was a good temporary solution. "I'm Crowley, by the way," he said, extending a hand.
"Aziraphale," the man said, his hands sturdy though his nail well-kept. "I'll warn you, it's much warmer here in the summer."
"Could get used to that," Crowley shrugged.
Aziraphale smiled. "I believe we'll both enjoy this arrangement. Breakfast tomorrow?" he asked. "I'm told I make a mean omelette."
"Thank you."