"You can stay at my place... If you like?"

Crowley's Flat

Stepping off the bus, they suddenly realised they still had their hands firmly grasped together. Turning shy, they both let their hands fall back to their sides whilst muttering some unintelligible apologies.

The lift ride up to Crowley's flat was spent in absolute silence but this one was far more awkward and uncomfortable than the last. Neither knew what to do or say. Aziraphale was fidgeting with his ring and Crowley was desperately and unsuccessfully trying to contort his features into feigned nonchalance. If Aziraphale had looked at the distorted reflection of his best friend on the metal doors in front of him for even a millisecond, he would have seen how nervous he was. The truth was, the angel had never been to Crowley's and the demon wanted Aziraphale to be comfortable. Although he hid it, he really did care what the angel thought.

The angel was trying not to think too much about what could happen in the demon's den especially if alcohol was involved, and he was sure there would be. He wasn't sure he would be able to keep himself in check, in fact he was starting to realise he might be better off not thinking at all. He had a funny feeling that secrets were going to be revealed that night. Secrets that had been hidden for centuries or even longer. Secrets he didn't want exposed or acknowledged. 

With a click of his fingers, Crowley opened the door to his flat. He could call it his home, but he knew that wasn't true. His home was wherever his angel was.

"Mind the puddle on your way in." he said, jumping over said puddle.

"That isn't... what I think it is... Is it?" the angel said with his brows creased with worry whilst carefully making his way around the liquid. Even the thought of Crowley having to use it made him shudder.

"Umm mngk" the demon stated with great eloquence if he did say so himself and scratching his head awkwardly. "Maybe."

"Holy water Crowley! You could have died!"

"But I didn't."

"But you could of!!!"

"I had no other choice angel." the demon sighed.

The angel, quickly understanding what had happened due to the underlying despair in Crowley's voice, decided to drop the subject and miracle away the deadly matter. Crowley, now truly in need of a drink, sauntered to his kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Aziraphale said quietly, worried he'd stepped over an invisible line and hurt his demon.

"I need a drink".

"But surely, we should be thinking of an escape. We both know what they are planning to do to us!" the angel said desperate to recentre the demon's thoughts.

"Maybe, but first ALCOHOL! QUITE EXTROARDINARY AMOUNTS OF ALCOHOL!".

He set to work, grabbing as many bottles as he could and set them on a small coffee table in front of his sleek, black leather sofa. He fetched two glasses, sat down, and started to unscrew the corks of a couple bottles of wine.

"Well, are you going to stand there all night with a frown on your face or are you going to join me?"

Aziraphale reluctantly sat down on the hard sofa, but the disapproving frown remained. Well, that was until a full glass was shoved into his hands. Then he couldn't stop himself from taking a large gulp of the velvety drink, then another and another. The demon couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him watching his angel inhale inhuman amounts of alcohol.

They both got to work trying to get as drunk as they possibly could in the shortest amount of time conceivable.

(Note: I hope your enjoying this so far and sorry for the poor titles. I'm really bad at making them lol)