Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots)

52; Comfort Food

Context: I recently got the urge to write another human AU where these two are exes who will get back together. Italic text will be used for flashbacks.

Anthony J. Crowley hated what he was doing, but it was almost like he couldn't control his body as he walked into Aziraphale's restaurant. Once, it had been like coming home, stepping in here. Now, after their breakup, he almost felt like a demon walking on consecrated ground.

Word Count: 18,000

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It was a horrible idea, Crowley knew that. But he couldn't help it. He felt like shit, emotionally and physically. Work had been particularly taxing for the past few weeks, as well as some personal stuff involving family and he just wanted something to try and better his mood. He remembered how Aziraphale's cooking had always brought him comfort. He knew it could go awfully, but he decided to give it a shot nonetheless.

Crowley took a deep breath before walking through the front entrance of Cucina Celestiale. Crowley had always found the name amusing, considering how Aziraphale loathed the angelic naming scheme his family always had. And yet, he never changed the name once the restaurant was passed down to him. Perhaps he kept it because it was familiar. That seemed like something his ex would do.

The host, Muriel, recognized him immediately, but remained civil. They cleared their throat and gave their friendliest smile. "Welcome to Cucina Celestiale. Table for one?"

He gave a curt nod, glad his shades obstructed his eyes from their view. "Please."

He could feel several of the waitstaff staring daggers at him as they walked to a secluded corner of the restaurant. The furthest table from the kitchen. Great call from Muriel, really. The last thing he needed was Aziraphale seeing him. Or worse, talk to him. Crowley knew he couldn't handle that right now. If his hair had been as long as it had been three years ago, he probably could have used it as a curtain from the judging eyes of the employees.

He took a seat, barely looked at the menu and gave the waiter his order. The waiter, Newton, was clearly trying to not stare at Crowley while he jotted down everything with exact details. Crowley was praying to Someone that none of the waitstaff would think of adding something disgusting to his food. Or worse. He just wanted to get in, enjoy his meal and slither out. Unbothered, causing no trouble.

Many minutes later, Newton came back with his food. Crowley had gone for the baked gnocchi Alfredo. It looked even better than he remembered. Maybe it was just his stomach talking, considering his hunger. Though, the smell was driving him crazy too. But once he took his first bite of the dish, it was exactly the same as he remembered. Like coming back home.

He cringed at the thought. He didn't need to think about it like that. This was supposed to be a distraction for him. That's all. Nostalgia. Something to make him happy for a bit. And in that aspect, it was working. It was strange, really. That a plate of someone's cooking could have this effect on him. But he didn't question it too much.

He made sure to enjoy every single bite. Afterwards, he paid the bill, left Newton a generous tip for, seemingly, not tampering with his food, and he went home.

~~~~~

The scrawny redhead was tired. Exhausted, really. He had just left the hospital from doing a twelve hour shift. He loved being a nurse, he really did, but he hated the long hours he had to do sometimes. Usually, this would happen when they were understaffed. This time, it was the opposite.