Oysters

“Do try one,” Aziraphale said. “I insist.” He was atremble with anticipation at the sight of the delicacies laid out before him, but he had invited Crowley as his guest, so the demon should have the first taste.

“What do you do with it?” Crowley asked, poking at a shell with one finger. His glasses had slipped down his nose and Aziraphale could see the slit pupils contract and expand as he examined the platter.

“You picked it up. Like this, see?” Aziraphale demonstrated. “And then you pour it all into your mouth. Go ahead!”

Crowley mimicked him, a little wrinkle between his brows, and Aziraphale almost forgot to savor his own morsel, so intent was he on Crowley’s reaction.

“Well?” he asked after Crowley had swallowed.

“It’s all right, I guess.”