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“Crowley?” The angel looked over the edge of his book. “What are you doing?”
Said demon was currently on his back, laying precariously across the lounge. Fingers flying as his eyes crossed trying to focus on the small screen he held. “Wot? Warlock left it. Called it a steam deck or somemut.”
“A what?”
Aziraphale flinched as Crowley suddenly sat up screeching. “Screw you arsehole! I had that shot first!” The slew of curses continued as Crowley mashed on the buttons. “Saying it’s my fault we lost, well we’ll just see about that.”
Setting his book down, Aziraphale sighed softly and stood. There was no reading in peace when his demon got like this. “Now Crowley, you remember what happened the last time you got ahold of one of these infernal machines. It would be wise to just put it down.”
Crowley yanked the deck away from Aziraphale’s reaching hand with a growl and snap of teeth.
“Now really, dear!” Aziraphale huffed. “You get this way every time!”
“No I don’t.” Crowley countered as he curled in on himself and the machine, serpent that he is, still typing away furiously.
“Do you remember what happened in 1990? When that Nine Ten Dough Boy came out.”
He didn’t budge. “Nintendo, Angel. Nintendo Gameboy.”
“Either way. You became obsessed.”
“No I didn’t.”
“You nearly destroyed your flat.”
“Demon. Got mad all demonly.” Crowley muttered.
“And in 1995? Oh how about in 1997? You practically disappeared for the entire year!”
Crowley finally turned towards him with a glower. “What are you getting at Angel?”
Aziraphale’s lip wobbled. “I feel you have a bad addiction to these things. You become so obsessed and violent.”
With a heave, Crowley uncurled and sat up. “Angel-”
“No, Crowley! I’m putting my foot down. Give it to me so I may return it to Warlock before you set it on fire.”
Crowley begrudgingly handed the console over as he grumbled mockingly. “‘Before you set it on fire.’ I don’t set things on fire. I hate fire.”
As the console was placed in his outstretched hand, Aziraphale lit up with a smile and softened. “Thank you, dear.”
Letting out a huff, Crowley flopped back all over the lounge again, glaring at the ceiling. The dark red bottom of a filled crystal cup came into view. He quickly accepted the peace offering, taking a hearty sip.
“Good boy.” The angle smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye.
Bastard.