Menu Surprise (Sunday Lunch Menu with Fine Wine Selection)

Aziraphale sometimes forgot about his own food, as hard as that would be to imagine. Instead, he kept finding himself entranced in the play of expressions across Crowley’s face as the demon analyzed each bite, rolling it around in his mouth to hit the different parts of his tongue. Whatever they called the great intervention really didn’t matter, not one bit—not when Crowley displayed this newfound enthusiasm for Aziraphale’s most favorite passion. Sometimes he let his human guise slip just the tiniest bit and Aziraphale would catch a glimpse of a fork in that tongue, as the demon lost himself in the flavors and textures of the various dishes Aziraphale placed before him. He’d always been indulgent where the demon was concerned, but now? Now he was finding that attempting to spoil Crowley was more fun than spoiling himself.