Nostalgic

A/N:  Thank you all so much for reading my story, it's my first, and I hope yall like it. 

The waiter approached their table for the seventh time that night, carrying with him the seventh and eighth bottles of wine Crowley and Aziraphale graciously accepted. It was the day after the Armageddon that had not to be and they be damned if they weren't going to celebrate their newly found freedom anywhere but the Ritz. Crowley had been begging to go lose a few brain cells after the world collectively lost its marbles and surprisingly resurrected itself. While Aziraphale, on the other hand, was just happy to get to have a nice evening with the man that made the world worth fighting for; getting stone cold drunk to him was a side effect of the demon's presence. Nothing had particularly led them through the eight bottles of expensive wine, but the more they drank the more the hellscape from the previous evening seemed to fade from memory and that lifted the dead weight sitting on both the Demon's and the Angel's shoulders.

"Angel, getting absolutely smashed with you is fun in all," Crowley uddered in between sips of bottle number seven, "but I can't help - I can't help wondering when we started doing this thing in the first place?" He placed the bottle down gesturing to the lovely white table set between them.

Aziraphale was caught off the guard by the question. He had been stumbling his way through his interpretation of an encounter with a special angry goose from a couple of months ago "I don't think I have a clue either." Aziraphale picked up bottle number eight and started to pour himself a glass, trying to look a tad bit more classy than Crowley who had given up his crystal for just straight drinking from number seven. "Yeah, it's been a long time since I took you for our first dinner." Though it was Crowley's job to do the tempting, Aziraphale had been quite good at getting Crowley to follow him to all matter of places: the park, the bookshop, and many different pubs and bars throughout the centuries. Sometimes, Aziraphale would even be alone at a movie or a show, watching Pyramus and Thebes or Cars 2, and would mysteriously find the Crowley had been there too.

" I remember when we were in Rome," Cowley commented back, smiling", and you made it your duty to get to eat oysters from - oh I can't remember- some silly little stall at the market." 

"What a time," Aziraphale thought out loud picking up his glass and taking in the color, "I think you should have gone. Shame" He switched his eyes to Crowley who tried to hide his blush by burying his face in the green of the bottle. He noticed that out of all the times he snuck glances at Crowley throughout the evening he always caught him trying to disguise his little moments of weakness with something more intimidating. Aziraphale failed to understand why Crowley wanted to seem better than himself but found the tiny acts endearing none the less. He supposed demons wanted to seem tougher but haven't meant another person from hell to compare him to, so he wrote it off as something cute only Crowley did.

"Since then, I don't think I've eaten a single oyster; out of spite, of course." Crowley lowed the bottle and chuckled. "When were you thinking about redeeming that missed opportunity with me, Angel"

Aziraphale was caught off guard yet again. "Next time I get you alone, I suppose"

"HA," Crowley snorted, "Next time you get me alone. Hahaha, don't think you'll keep me away for long, Aziraphale. Don't really plan on leaving you anytime soon, after losing you to that fucking loony witch hunter."

Aziraphale was crimson. He hadn't meant it like that. He wouldn't ever think of intentionally taking advantage of Crowley. It wasn't in his nature; though Aziraphale did know of sometimes when he had thought of doing so, albeit kind-hearted scenarios, like wanting Crowley to miracle a thing or two or using his sad eyes to get Crowley to go places. However, he just gave him a thin-lipped expression of shock.

"That's quite nice of you"

Instead of leaping over the table to pummel him or throwing him against the wall, Crowley just gave Aziraphale a sheepish smile and continued to finish his wine. The silence grew around them; the Angel mortified into quiet while the Demon seemed to be enjoying the other creature's shock. He kept grinning into the bottle and Aziraphale kept giving little secret looks now and then, wondering why he was so prized by Crowley that he threatened to never leave. Aziraphale thought maybe after decades of fighting over the good and evil in the world, staying together would be a wonderful change of pace.

"You know I think I asked you to dinner the first time," Crowley tilled his face into a slack-jawed frown, " Though I can't recall what it was, probably something-something with a lot of water, " He stared up trying to remember. 

"Ah, you're thinking of when we went to that lovely little Island, Lido, was it? Outside of Venice?" Aziraphale put his face into his hands and peered across the table. Lido was wonderful, he thought, looking out to the Mediterranean on all sides, and recalled walking from one pristine view of the sea to another of the bay between Italy and the small sandy beach. He did remember Crowley tempting him to go two times. One being around 200 BC and the other last September for the Venice film festival. He was nostalgic for both occasions but preferred the ladder, since Crowley, damn his forsaken heart, made an extreme effort to make the festivities the bests of times for Aziraphale, as the angel normally loved books to the movies. It was steady times, and it lead to them going to watch more films together. "What a lovely time we had. Loved the Bradon copper movie."

"Bradon Copper? Uh, Bradley Cooper, Angel. You can at least pretend you like spending time with me." Crawley slurred putting the empty bottle down with a thwack. Aziraphale new he got a little delirious drunk but was, not for the last time that evening, surprised and very aggravated.

"Now you take that back. I'm smashed, Crawley. Sorry. I can't think straight. You know I like going out with you and you, deep down in that cold heart, like it too. That's why we've been doing this so long and got so many memories of it. You're just absolutely smashed too." Aziraphale got out of his seat and leered at the demon. Crowley's angry appearance melted.

"Sorry, Angel. I didn't mean - mean it like that." Crowley stood and motived his hands towards the front of the Ritz, "Should we be going now, I think I've had enough for one night."