***Disclaimer: First, I do not own Supernatural or the characters because if I did, this is what would happen. Second, I have never wrote a story like this and I'm super embarrassed. I could've taken a LOT further but my brain just died at the thought of people actually reading it. So. Also, I suck at titles.
There was an art to making a good cup of tea. Crowley had a long time to perfect it. It was how he liked to start the day. Something about the routine of it calmed his nerves and lately his nerves were more frazzled than he liked to admit. One of those sayings he usually liked to mock had said that it wasn't easy being king. This was increasingly becoming apparent. It was hard to find good help in Hell and Crowley was a perfectionist in everything he did. That trait meant that he often had to do things that should've been handled by someone beneath him. He brought himself out of his thoughts. His tea was properly steeped and he took care not to drip any on the counter as he discarded the bag.
He was about to take the first sip when he noticed the blinking light on the ansaphone tucked next to the toaster.
Crowley resisted the urge to reduce it to ash and instead set the tea cup down.
"That's the third time this week. You need some new help, peach," said Gabriel from behind him.
"Believe me, I know." Crowley watched the angel shuffle into the kitchen still wearing only the ridiculous Batman boxers and shirt. He yawned with a stretch then dropped his arms around Crowley's shoulders.
"Come on. Stay home. You can finish your tea and then we can find something else to do," he said into Crowley's neck, the kiss at the end telling him exactly what Gabriel had in mind. He was sorely tempted to do just that; finish his tea and spend the rest of the day in bed.
With a sigh Crowley said, "Afraid I can't, love. The whole of Hell might be about to collapse for all I know."
Gabriel pouted but didn't protest and Crowley left, his tea untouched on the counter.
If Crowley had ever thought he'd get to finish his morning cup of tea sometime in the near future, he was mistaken. It was as if someone decided the right time to develop a problem was right as he was settling down to take a drink. The time didn't seem to matter. He had tried both earlier and later, both to the same results: A blinking light on the ansaphone. Gabriel kept trying to convince him to ignore it but Crowley was too much of a stickler for order to let a problem go unfixed. That and he didn't trust anyone but himself not to muck things up further. It was beginning to be an issue.
"No rest for the wicked, eh?" Gabriel commented. He was the only person in the world who could slouch effectively on a stool. Crowley pressed his lips together.
"Hardly."
"I'll make up for it," he said.
"How, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" Crowley couldn't keep the concern from his voice. Gabriel stood up and swaggered over to Crowley, the grin that meant trouble spreading across his face.
"You'll see."
"Gabriel…" He didn't answer, just kissed Crowley who had to remember to be frustrated with him still.
"Off you go before Hell freezes over or something."
"Hng."
The house was quiet when Crowley finally got back. There was a time that Crowley relished coming home to a quiet house but that was before an archangel-turned-pagan had moved in. Now the quiet was just concerning. He moved through the house looking for any signs of trouble but everything seemed just as he left it. Crowley started to relax as he reached the bedroom door and pulled it open.
It may have been a little too soon.
When he stepped into the room the first thing that greeted him was the smell of steeping tea. The next was a small table with two equally small chairs that hadn't been there before. On the table were a tea set and a plate of biscuits. Sitting at the table, knees drawn up to fit on the chair, was Gabriel.
And he was wearing a tutu with a feather boa.
And nothing else.
Crowley was speechless. It had been awhile since Gabriel had managed to illicit this response from him. The demon thought he had seen it all but this was something else entirely.
"Gabriel. What in the world is going on here?"
"It's a tea party."
"I see." Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that Gabriel knew to be one of frustration. He smiled.
"Lighten up, Crowles. Have some tea."
"You. Are wearing. A tutu."
"I think I look fetching."
"You look ridiculous."
"If you sit down and have a cup of tea, I'll take it off," Gabriel said with a wag of his eyebrows. Crowley considered his options. Most of their little stand-offs had ended with the angel getting exactly what he wanted and an even bigger mess than if Crowley had just consented in the first place. He walked over to the table and scrunched himself up to sit in the chair.
"Speak one word to anyone…" Gabriel waved a hand.
"Who am I going to tell?" There was a smirk on his face that made Crowley think he'd find someone to tell but he let the subject drop. Gabriel handed him a cup and he gratefully took a drink. Despite the setting, Crowley found himself enjoying the simple action of sipping his tea in peace. He had a feeling that it wouldn't last for very much longer if the look on Gabriel's face was any indication. Crowley finished off the rest of his tea and set the cup down with a sigh.
"If you're quite done humiliating me and yourself, can we try to behave as adults?" Crowley said. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
"Aw, what's the fun in that?" Gabriel said leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. Crowley suddenly remembered what the angel was wearing.
"Not everything is about fun, Gabriel."
"It should be," he said as he stretched out. Gabriel knew exactly what he was doing and part of Crowley wished it didn't work so well. "More tea or do you want something sweeter?"
There was no need to ask what he meant by that.
"The tea has probably gone cold by now." It wasn't that Crowley liked to play hard to get. He was above that; he just didn't want Gabriel to have the satisfaction. Gabriel grinned broadly and moved over to Crowley, giving him a good view of what was underneath that ridiculous tutu. He straddled Crowley who was glad the chair didn't break.
"Dessert it is, then," he said and kissed Crowley. The kiss tasted like tea and sugar. Crowley threaded his fingers through Gabriel's hair and pulled him closer. Gabriel began tugging at Crowley's clothing, his mouth pressed against the demon's ear. "You're a little over dressed for this tea party, muffin. Let me take care of that for you."
Years of exhibitionism had made Gabriel an expert at efficiently and quickly removing clothing. He added small kisses and bites as he did. The feather boa brushed against Crowley's bare skin and the feeling wasn't unpleasant. His nails dug into Gabriel's shoulder and he pushed him down onto the bed.
"You're not going to insist on wearing that, are you?" Crowley asked, slipping his hand under the tutu.
"I wasn't planning on wearing much of anything." Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him. He let Crowley yank it off. They pressed together, all kisses and touches. Crowley's hand traveled down the angel's stomach and came to a stop between his legs. He knew the right amount of pressure to apply to garner a reaction from Gabriel. If Crowley knew how to provoke a reaction, Gabriel was just as adept at returning the favor.
"Keep it up, love, and I might not object to another tea party," Crowley said in between kisses.
"Mm-hm. I knew you liked it." Gabriel moved down Crowley's body and took him into his mouth. Crowley tensed for moment then let himself fall into the rhythm of Gabriel's movements. His hair was soft under his fingers and Crowley closed his eyes. If all tea parties ended like this, he really wouldn't mind another.
He might not even care if the tutu stayed on.
