Chapter Text
The night started like any other for the vampire.
Get up, trudge around the cemetery, say hello to old Eurydice lodged up in plot 13, hiss at some squirrels, and dramatically drape himself over a headstone while lamenting his own isolated immortality. He was simply the most miserable being to ever exist, and his suffering was untold and unmeasurable. Yup. Nevermind that he actually enjoyed this lifestyle immensely, barely ever had to even drink blood, and wouldn’t give it up for anything. He was surely tortured and not at all very pleased with the whole arrangement, thank you very much.
Which is why it was especially jarring to have his beloved lamenting time interrupted by the rustling of old leaves. Those leaves didn’t rustle, he’d made sure of it! Surely having spent four months arranging every leaf perfectly by colour and dreary-ness hadn’t simply decided to reverse itself. All the local wildlife was terrified of him, or took pity on him, so this couldn’t be an adventurous rabbit or nightingale. No. This was human.
Crowley crouched behind his own grave. He’d made it himself, he’d have you know. Only recently, sometime within the last 600 years. Held a whole mock funeral for his humanity. Complete with little straw dolls with rocks for eyes as funeral-goers, and a eulogy delivered by a raven he’d grabbed by the talons. He’d never been more thankful for his own shoddy craftsmanship than he was at the present moment as he stared through the hole in the middle.
A young man pushed through the rickety old gate to the graveyard. Couldn’t have been any older than 30, really. Done up in a far-too-tight V-neck button-up and corduroys. More fit for church than some filthy boneyard occupied by one creature of the night and possibly 2 half-decomposed femurs, in Crowley’s honest opinion, yet he found himself simply unable to look away from the welcome intruder.
He was awfully pretty for a human. Crowley decided this should now be illegal to be in a burial ground. The human could’ve shown up with a gun and he would’ve been far less offended than he was as he felt the sickening feeling of positive emotion settle in his chest. To make matters worse, the angel had curly blonde hair that framed the damned thing’s face, pale blue eyes glancing around with an oddly excited glint, and a cross gripped tightly in its right hand.
Ah, shit. There was the catch, he supposed. Well. Time to make himself known. Go out with a fight, maybe even give a monologue before passing on and over. Finally make use of that grave plot he’d reserved. The vampire popped up from his mildly uncomfortable noodle position behind the grave, ready to take a cross to the throat as he locked eyes and half-heartedly bared fangs at what he was now convinced was a wise and capable vampire hunter here specifically to find and kill him.
What he wasn’t expecting was for the apparently not very wise human to immediately clutch the cross to his chest as if he’d been shot and stumble back in shock. Crowley was no actor, but he had a feeling this was, as the humans said, a load of horseshit.
“Oh! Who– who are you?”
This felt very rehearsed, Crowley decided. May as well play along. He liked a good act. He was already so charismatic, obviously, it barely mattered.
“..M’name’s Crowley.”
Smooth, Crow. Smooth.
“..What are you doing out so late at night, dear?”
Committing axe murder, obviously.
“Could ask you the same thing, angel.”
The aforementioned angel took a step back at that. Soon getting the hang of this little dance, Crowley took one forward.
“You– you’re not that *thing*, are you?
That could mean anything from vampire to gay as a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Crowley decided the former was what the human was fishing for.
“What? Vampire? Scared of a little bite, angel?”
He was briefly aware of how thick he was laying it on, and stifled an ill-timed giggle. It seemed to have the intended effect, though, as said angel practically whimpered.
“..And, nnh, and what if I said I wasn’t, dear?
Technically vampires can’t short-circuit. That day Crowley got as close as he could.
“..Ngk.”