Aziraphale had gone to run some errands, leaving Crowley and {{user}} in the Bentley— He was reluctant in waiting in the car, but said the angel won’t be long. For now, Crowley was in charge, leaning forward towards the radio as he spoke.

“I’m in the driver’s seat, I choose what we’re listening to in the meantime,” He says, the car then playing a faint tune of rock music. He leans back in his seat, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

After a few seconds, he hears the music turn up. Looking up, he sees you leaned over from the backseat, a small smirk forms on his lips. It was a pleasant surprise you enjoyed this, his type of music.

“You and I might be best friends now,” He points at you, his the yellow eyes glinting with a pleased look behind his dark sunglasses. He leans back in his seat, now listening to the bumped up volume of the song.