sauntereddownward | (no subject)

(no subject)

Crowley had been busy. He'd had a rather dastardly idea and with a bit of proper nudging of 'influencers' (whatever those were) and a quick trip to Reddit, he had a new viral sensation. It was sort of like the ice bucket challenge, except it didn't benefit any charities and instead involved putting hot sauce up the nose. It worried parents, caused a bit of harmless mayhem, and most of all...it tarnished the souls of all those who laughed at idiots' misfortunes.

Sure, it wasn't tempting a priest, but it was a laugh.

He sat in the autumn sun outside an interesting little tea shop. He had a steaming cup of a lapsang suchong blend that made the air smell like a campfire. A subtle scent under the cigarette smoke. Crowley was watching his mobile and chuckling along as another bloody idiot put hot sauce on a cotton tip and stuffed it up his nose and began to wail.

"People will do anything to be famous," he said to himself.

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"A bit early in the day for that?" he asked. "Not that I'm opposed. We all have our vices."

"Never too early for that," Fin assured him, sipping his tea and shrugging.

"Then finish your tea and we'll find a party," Crowley said. "I'm good at finding parties. Or making them happen."

Fin considered him for a moment, tilting his head and resting his elbow on the table as he studied the other man. In a long line of terrible choices he'd made recently, this one didn't seem any worse than the rest.

"Or we could just party," he suggested. "You know, just me and you."

"Just the two of us? Hardly a party. More of an impromptu salon, I'd think. Did you have somewhere in mind?" he asked.

"Let's go back to mine, I don't think my roommates are home," the fae offered, leaning in a little closer. "I promise I'm lots of fun."

In moments like this those nymph-like features of Fin's came out, that strange temptation that was woven into his magic and appearance becoming much more apparent.

Crowley was rather adept at temptation himself and so recognized it in this sweet, broken fae.

Far be it from him to thwart any attempts. If anything, he encouraged it.

"I'm game," he nodded.

"Then let's finish our tea," Fin grinned, leaning back in his seat and finishing his drink.

Crowley downed his in one swallow, then set the cup down hard.

"Aahhhh," he exhaled. "That hit the spot. Ready when you are."

"Alright, it's not far from here," the fae assured him, getting to his feet. There was a moment where he looked unsteady, lightheaded maybe, but he soon recovered.

It really wasn't far to the flat, and he nodded hello to the doorman before leading the way to the lift.

"Nice building. Swanky. I have a rather nice flat, myself. Brutalist design. It suits me," he said as he sauntered into the lift and leaned heavily against the back wall.

"It's not really mine," Fin admitted. "I mean, it is, but I sort of inherited it," he said, glancing over.

"Isn't that just the way of things? Inheritance. It's served humans well for millennia," he replied as he sauntered along.

"I guess. It's kinda the first time I've inherited anything," he admitted, letting them into the flat.

Crowley walked in and whistled softly.

"I'd say you lucked out, mate. This place is tops," he said.

"It's nice. Too big for just me. I have two room mates," he explained.

"And where are they?" the demon asked, poking around to see all there was to see. "Will they be joining our little party?"

"I'm pretty sure they're both at work," Fin replied, watching as the other man poked around. "Suppose Hex might be home later. His shifts are weird."

"Do you have anything to drink?" he asked, taking the roommates into consideration for only a fraction of a second, then dismissing them.

"Yeah," the fae nodded, leading them over to the bar. "What would you like? I could open some wine if you like."

"Wine would be wonderful," he replied, thinking that Fin could probably afford something that he wouldn't have to convince to be a better vintage. "Classy party. Wine. Are you going to bring out a charcuterie and put on some smooth jazz?"

"I... No?" Fin replied, looking puzzled and pulling a bottle of something fizzy out of the wine fridge. "Grab two glasses, will you?" he asked, nodding at the cupboard.

He gave a nod and walked to the cupboard to select two glasses. Good glass, too. Not that cheap convenience glasses one got mass marketed.

"Too bad. I enjoy a bit of smooth jazz," he chuckled, clearly not being serious.

"I'm not sure I've ever listened to jazz," Fin confessed, popping the cork and pouring them each a large glass.

"You're not missing much. Jazz was better when they all did heroin," he remarked before taking a sip.