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Steven is ashamed to admit that he never really cared about humans.
It wasn’t like he didn’t like them—no, he found them rather interesting—but he’d never actively sought interactions with the mortals on Earth. Back then, all they did was feed, hunt, and throw rocks at each other. He only interacted with them a few times, only when he was ordered to. He could see why they were special, however—after all, free will was revolutionary in the eyes of the Heavenly Host.
Free will was something Steven felt a little jealous about. As an angel, he had duties to attend to at all times, for millennia to come and pass. It served as his Purpose, and he was expected to only stay within his duty for the rest of his immortal life. But humans… they live freely as animals on Earth, and Steven could only imagine how good it must’ve felt. How good it must feel to choose your own path. To make his own decisions. To enjoy everything around him as is.
Of course, with free will comes incompetence. With free will comes revenge. War. Fires. Things that Steven could only find disappointing.
Still, he loved them like he loved all of God’s creations, yet he’d never truly fallen in love with the world.
Steven Lim fell in love with Earth first.
He left his post at exactly 2:34 PM on a Sunday, popping into the busy streets of Los Angeles under the scorching hot summer heat. The moment, the time, the location were so engraved into his brain; Steven remembers the loudness of the cars passing by, the people who’d barely spared a glance at him, the overwhelming sight of everything. His wings tucked lightly behind the fabric of reality, and Steven’s first instinct was to wear a sweater. Good job, he muttered to himself as sweat pooled on his chest.
Quietly, he walked through the busy streets of LA, the City of Angels. How ironic, he’d thought. His bright brown eyes shimmered with a sparkle of blue as he took in the unfamiliar view. Bright signs, loud people, big cars. But then there was the scent of food, the smiles of children, the warmth of community. Steven never realised how much he longed for a companion. He didn’t realise how much humans had grown, how far they’ve advanced, and how unique they had become. He knew time was needed to adjust.
One of the things he learned quick was the prominent use of currency. Granted, the act of trading and bartering were concepts that had existed long before even the first Queen of England, but Steven hadn’t been on Earth long enough to familiarise himself with the modern culture. Technically, he did not need food to survive, but he intended to live as humanly as possible and experience life as it should be: free and passionate. Eventually, with a little help from an angelic miracle, Steven managed to get a job at BuzzFeed. He was a quick learner. He mastered the use of technology and had many great ideas for the “Internet”.
However, he did not consider the fact that there would already be a demon and cryptid there. He decided to mind his own business, try not to stab the demon, and keep his job. Somehow, the latter proved to be the hardest out of his list of three.
Shane and Ryan were a lot more laid back than he had anticipated. There were no world-ending battles between the Goatman and the Cherubim, which he was thankful for, but he was engaged in a battle of trying to maintain a nice, human job. Steven hadn’t made himself a name yet in the company, and it tore him apart. He didn’t want fame, not really, but he wanted to be seen. He tried to start a show called Worth It with Keith, but that worked out so well.
Adam had the idea to bring in Andrew, a friend of his.
Andrew is quiet, reserved, and has a mature sparkle in his eye that contrasts with Steven’s cheerful nature. And he’s perfect.
Steven didn’t know then, how much this decision would change his life, but he was forever grateful that Andrew was willing to film with him.
The man was perfect in ways more than one, the angel decided, so he couldn’t refuse when he proposed the idea of making a second pizza episode; one that featured a more expensive pizza in New York. His co-host, Steven realised, was truly his partner in taste. He understood Steven and all his magical words as they took a bite of the mid-range pizza. There was an unfamiliar tug in the angel’s chest whenever Andrew agreed to “cheers” his food with him. Steven liked seeing Andrew’s lips turn into a delicate smile and hearing him crack horrible puns that made Steven chuckle.
The world was a lot calmer when Andrew was around. He was steady. Safe. Steven cherished the moments when he could relax, when he could take a deep breath and be in the moment. The busy Los Angeles streets were lovely, Steven admitted in the end.
Earth really is beautiful.
Steven fell in love with humanity.
He knew that it was a gift from Her, the trait that gave humanity their unique flair. Social creatures, humans are. They care for each of their own. They recognise others as family. The thrive in relationships, and Steven found it beautiful. Community, the angel found, was such a beautiful word. It was the love of just… talking, eating, and spending time with one another. It was simple love, but love nonetheless.
It was a different type of love from the one Steven was always taught as an angel, so seeing Andrew take care of the crew was… nice. The angel admired how much care there was in his friend’s reservedness. It was as if he was the calm of the ocean—quiet, beautiful, and caring beyond mortal comprehension. He looked out for the crew during their trips, and Adam especially. It became a running joke in the series that they needed to feed Adam.
“C’mon, Adam, eat some more,” Steven grinned at the shy cameraman.
“Yeah, man, take a nibble out this chicken. It’s crazy how good it is!” Andrew nodded, taking one of the chicken strips and holding it out to Adam. Hesitantly, the cameraman took a bite, taking a long pause for—what Steven believed was—dramatic effect.
“It’s good.”
Adam nodded, and Steven grinned. The camera had been off for a while, but their next filming location is scheduled for tomorrow, so they had time to spare. Andrew had done the courtesy of buying the crew a few more servings of chickens with each different sauces. From buffalo to homemade a la carte, Steven’s friend had got it for them.
“What’s the occasion, Drew?” the angel asked as he took a strip smothered in chili sauce.
“Nothing. Just wanted to have a nice dinner with you guys. It’s still the first price point anyway, so it’s within the company budget,” Andrew said in a joking tone and grinned. Though he was a usually stoic man, his smile was bright and his eyes still shone with compassion. Steven loved that about him.
The angel learned, then, that humans had a talent for filling silence.
Not with noise, necessarily, but with presence. The trio ate in companionable quiet for a while, the sound of rustling boxes and the occasional crunch of fried batter settling into the room. Outside, traffic hummed like a distant tide. Somewhere nearby, a car horn blared and was promptly ignored. The world carried on, indifferent and warm.
Steven wiped his fingers on a napkin, watching Andrew out of the corner of his eye. His friend hadn’t touched his own food yet. Instead, he hovered: nudging boxes closer to Adam, twisting the lid back on a sauce Steven hadn’t liked, wordlessly replacing it with another. Andrew only sat down once everyone else had enough. Only then did he eat, slow and thoughtful, as if savouring more than just the taste.
Steven wondered if this, too, was part of being human.
In Heaven, care was commanded. Love was absolute, vast, unquestionable, but it was never chosen in moments like these. No one had ever made sure Steven ate first. No one had ever bought extra simply because they could.
He felt something loosen in his chest.
Andrew caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. “You good?” he asked, quietly, like the question was only meant for Steven.
“Yeah,” the angel replied without thinking. He meant it. He felt grounded in a way he hadn’t known he was missing, like his feet were finally touching something solid. Something real.
Andrew smiled softly and passed him a napkin before Steven even realised he needed one. Their fingers brushed. It was nothing. It was everything.
Steven looked around the room once more: half-eaten food, tired laughter, tomorrow’s schedule scribbled in someone else’s handwriting. No halos, no hymns, no divine summons calling him home.
If this was humanity—messy, generous, fleeting—then Steven understood why they clung to it so fiercely. Yes, he could definitely stay here. With everyone. With Andrew.
Humanity really is beautiful.
Steven fell in love with food.
Angels do not need food. They do not need sustenance to survive and live. Heaven does not provide food simply because it’s not needed. He’s only had a handful of meals in his long, immortal life, yet it was one of his most anticipated discoveries when he decided to journey on the mortal plane. He’s heard a lot from his siblings who were stationed on Earth. Different ingredients and techniques are used to create a pleasurable mortal sustenance. It’s a strange thing, food is. And Steven, technically, does not need it.
But food, at the same time, was an invitation. Food, the angel discovered, can speak. One can learn so much with just a bite, from taste to passion. He’d come to realise that people will take so much time to perfect a dish, to create a restaurant, to share food and invite people to eat together. Even the act of eating is never just eating; it is sharing someone’s passion and living through their love simply through a dish.
A dish was never just a dish. A dish is human passion.
Andrew wasn’t the type of person to have two different personas on camera and off camera. He was unapologetically reserved, but also full of expression when met with food. He’s stated many times that food was one of his favourite things, especially when he could feel the care in a small, family-owned restaurant. He was, unsurprisingly, the person who gave Steven the idea to interview the restaurant owners before trying their dishes.
Andrew, Steven noticed, was always attentive when the owners talked about the why and how of the restaurants. The angel was grateful for it; without him, he would not have learned how much actually went to a dish. It was a labour of love and innovation, a mix of culture and modernity—there was beauty in contrast. There was beauty in fitting with something, or someone, who is the opposite.
Steven was a lot more cheerful, especially when it was his turn to interview them. He was naturally curious, always wanting to know how things work and why. Dishes, to him, are something sacred now that Andrew had unintentionally taught him the allure of food.
“I picked this restaurant for our highest price-point because I knew you loved truffles. Heard this place has the best truffle butter chicken, and since we’re doing a video about chicken, I thought, why not? Plus, I wanted to take you here for a long time anyway,” Andrew shrugged as Steven and Adam adjusted the cameras.
“Oh yeah? I’m excited to try it, then! Truffle is my shit,” the angel grinned as he took a seat beside Andrew to start the show.
“You’re a fancy guy, Steven,” the other teased before facing the camera.
The food came quickly, and they immediately introduced the viewers to their dish. It was almost like a rhythmic, familiar banter of sorts, as they bounced off each other with each and every sentence.
“This truffle butter was made with more than just truffle and butter here, I heard,” Steven commented, marvelling at the dish in front of him.
“Yeah, they add a little bit of lemon juice to add a citrusy note to it, and to add more texture. I also got some of their potato salad to go with their chicken, since the chef said it was a good combo.”
“Damn, I’ll have to steal some from your plate!”
“Steven, we can just share,” Andrew replied, chuckling. The angel noticed the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled. It’s sweet.
Steven flashed a grin and cut a nice piece of chicken from the dish, holding it up near Andrew. “Food cheers?”
Immediately, the man met him halfway. His fork met Steven’s, and a soft clink could be heard. “Food cheers.”
There was a warmth in the angel’s chest as he ate, humming at its deliciousness. He could not tell where that warmth came from; perhaps his newfound love for food? Perhaps it was just the temperature? Or perhaps it was… Andrew. Maybe it’s always just been Andrew.
“Oh geez, the crunch in that chicken is absolutely out of this world,” Steven commented, content with its taste. “The breading for it sticks onto the chicken without making the chicken hard and dry. It’s still juicy and good. Ohhhh… this is so good.”
“I agree. The truffle butter actually elevates it in a way that I’d never even think of. I mean, come on. Truffle as butter? Absolutely genius. It adds a hint of umami and saltiness to the savory chicken. And you wouldn’t expect it to work, but it does.”
“Exactly what I was gonna say, Drew.”
Andrew scoffed lightheartedly. “You’re just agreeing with me because you like truffle, fancy boy.”
“No…”
The two continued eating together, tasting and commenting along the way. Maybe food was really just a conduit for companionship. Yes, Steven enjoys companionship. Especially Andrew’s.
“Hey, Adam! Try the chicken. Trust me, dude.”
Food really is beautiful.
Steven, for the longest time, has been in love with Andrew.
When Worth It ended, to say Steven was heartbroken would be an understatement.
He understood why it had to end, of course; he quit BuzzFeed so long ago and only stayed because Andrew wanted him to. To give closure to the show, fans, and maybe themselves. Andrew reminded the angel many times—whenever Adam said ‘cut’, and each shot could be their last—that this was not the end of their friendship. They’ll figure it out, they always do.
Adam even suggested joining Watcher, Steven’s company. The angel, even if he wanted nothing more for that to happen, argued that it wouldn’t be the wisest choice. Funding wouldn’t be as stable, BuzzFeed administration could give them shit, and there were many more factors that could go wrong. He only wanted the best for Andrew, and Adam, and would not be able to bear the weight if everything went wrong.
Worth It aired its final episode, then that was it. Seven years of food adventure ending in a bittersweet video. Steven watched it alone, long after it went live, pausing it more times than he’d admit. It felt strange, seeing something so alive already become a memory.
True to his word, Andrew maintained close contact with Steven.
They texted often: nothing dramatic, nothing heavy. Links to dumb videos. Photos of meals Andrew tried to recreate. Occasional voice notes sent late at night, Andrew’s voice a little softer, a little slower, like he was thinking out loud more than speaking to anyone in particular. Steven always listened to those more than once.
They met up when they could. Coffee here, lunch there. No cameras. No scripts. Just the two of them sitting across from each other, talking about everything and nothing at all. Andrew laughed the same way he always had. When they eat out together, they would still cheer with their food, both missing the show more than anything else.
The show, to Andrew, was a way to spend time with Steven. He wasn’t an openly affectionate guy, this he will admit, but Steven had changed him for the better. He was still iffy with touch, but only the angel could cuddle up to him without any complaints.
That was another thing. Somewhere during the last season of the show, Andrew found out that Steven was… an angel. There were no dramatic reveals, just Adam bringing it up one day as if he’d known this fact for a long time.
Andrew blinked at him. Then at Steven.
He waited for the punchline.
When it didn’t come, he let out a short laugh, more disbelieving than amused, and shook his head. “Right,” he said. “Okay. Sure.” He didn’t press further, didn’t ask for proof, didn’t demand an explanation. Andrew had always been a skeptic; he liked things he could see, taste, touch. Things with structure. With process.
Still, he watched Steven a little more closely after that.
Nothing about him changed. Steven was still Steven; still earnest, still warm, still prone to rambling when he got excited. He still burned his tongue on hot soup and flinched at bitter flavours. If he were an angel, he was a remarkably human one.
So Andrew let it go.
Or maybe he just let it be.
Every once in a while, something would catch his attention: the way Steven always seemed to know when he was overwhelmed, the way he’d show up with food without being asked, the way his presence alone seemed to soften a bad day. Andrew never said anything about it. He trusted Steven. That had always been the simplest part.
If Steven wanted to tell him more, he would. If not, Andrew was content with what he was given.
Angel or not, Steven stayed. Maybe that was the beauty of their relationship in the first place. Staying.
It’s been eight months since Worth It ended. Life, inconveniently, kept going.
Steven’s phone dinged with a text from Andrew: “I wanna try this new pasta recipe I found. Wanna hang in my place?”
Immediately, the angel replied with a ‘hell yeah’, and they agreed to meet in a few hours. The sun was slowly setting, and he was done with the more tedious work anyway. All he had to do was help Shane and Ryan with the logistics of their show, and he’ll be on his way to Andrew’s. Ding! Another message from Andrew. The smile that grew on Steven’s face was downright disgusting. In a good way, of course.
Shane noticed first.
Steven didn’t say anything outright; he didn’t need to. He was humming as he typed, fingers moving faster than usual, foot bouncing where it rested against the leg of his chair. He’d been in a good mood all day, sure, but this was… different. Lighter. Like he was floating untethered.
Ryan noticed second, mostly because Shane leaned back in his chair and squinted at Steven like he was examining a suspicious artifact.
“Why are you glowing,” Shane said flatly.
Steven looked up. “What?”
“You’re glowing,” Shane repeated. “Not literally. Well—” He paused, tilted his head. “Okay, not visibly literally. But spiritually? Emotionally? Something’s up.”
Ryan’s eyes flicked from Steven’s phone to his face, then back again. A slow smile spread across his face, the kind that meant he’d figured something out and was enjoying the moment. “Oh,” Ryan said. “Ohhh.”
Steven frowned, already defensive. “What?”
Ryan leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Andrew texted you.”
Steven opened his mouth, then closed it. His ears felt warm. “What? No, I mean yes…”
Shane snorted. “Called it.”
“You smiled at your phone,” Ryan continued, delighted. “Like, full-on rom-com smile. You never do that. The last time I saw you smile like that was when you ate that ridiculous duck dish in Paris.”
“That duck was incredible,” Steven muttered.
“Sure,” Shane said. “And Andrew is…?”
Steven didn’t answer right away. He just tucked his phone into his pocket, suddenly shy. “He’s making pasta.”
Ryan squinted, grinning widely. The angel knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of this. “He’s cooking for you.”
“It’s just hanging out,” Steven insisted, though his smile was soft enough to betray him completely.
Shane stood up, grabbing his jacket. “Mhm. Well. You’re useless to us for the rest of the day.”
“What? No, I can still help with logistics—”
“Nah, we’re almost done here anyway. The nearest ring shop is right around the corner anyway.”
“What, no? It’s not… It’s not like that!” Ryan was being a little shit about it as always, Steven doesn’t really mind. The demon and mothman exchanged a look, a suspicious one, and promptly shooed the angel away.
“Still, go get ready for your date.”
Steven rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway.
The angel has explored many parts of the world. He’s travelled around the world with both Adam and Andrew, from Australia to Japan. He’s seen many wonders in his journeys and in his immortal life. Even then, his favourite place was still Andrew’s apartment. It was lived in, warm, and when asked what home is to Steven, he would answer Andrew’s place.
There were shelves of books with small potted plants that stood in the living room, little souvenirs from their travels were placed on the shelf. Some of which were the box that housed the grapes they had bought in Japan, ceramic bowls from Australia, and little statues that he’d gotten from the flea market. Steven smiled every time he crossed the shelf; he loved how memories were displayed and remained a reminder of their travels.
Odd paintings were also put up—though Steven never understood what those paintings even meant, it was a small charm that added colour in Andrew’s apartment. His best friend—no, that wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough—welcomed him as per usual, noting that the pasta needed a little more time before it was ready. Steven didn’t mind. Andrew didn’t have to tell him twice to make himself at home.
The place always smelled of coffee, regardless of the time. The angel remembered working with Adam to get Andrew a coffee machine a few years back, and his best friend never used anything else since. Their gift stood proudly in the kitchen, sleek and memorable. That was one of Steven’s favourite things about Andrew: though he’d never admit it, Andrew was sentimental. He would put up things that hold memory, and gift Steven with something just as memorable.
If anything, Steven wouldn’t mind living with Andrew.
The angel helped Andrew set the table up, as the man plated their pasta. He brought the dishes to the table and even rummaged for some wine. It was oddly intimate, and the bottle Andrew brought out did nothing to dampen the romantic atmosphere.
“Is that wine from All Saints… from when we visited Australia?” Steven furrowed his brows as Andrew took a seat in front of him. “Isn’t that, like, a thousand dollars?”
The man only shrugged. “You liked it so much when we tasted it, so I got it. In case you miss it. It’s nothing, trust me.”
Steven only watched as Andrew poured the wine; the familiar scent hit his nose. Turns out, he did miss it. Andrew knew him so well. He took a sip of the hundred-year-old wine and hummed delightedly. It paired perfectly with the seafood pasta that the other had made. Muscadelle was lighter, more aromatic, and Steven could only describe its taste as a lover’s touch. It was tender, almost sweet, and floral in ways that earned its price point.
Andrew’s eyes were beautiful under the dim lighting of his home, Steven noticed. It was a soft hazel hue that described nature, its colour similar to that of the sweetest chocolate. When he looked at Steven, there was no sharpness there—only calm, grounding, the kind that made the world feel quieter without trying. His gaze never demanded, never rushed; it simply stayed, patient and certain, like he had nowhere else he needed to be.
Steven began to notice things he’d never thought to catalogue before. The way Andrew leaned forward slightly when he listened, forearms resting on the edge of the table, as if giving Steven his full weight and attention. The small crease between his brows when he concentrated on cutting his pasta just right, the habit of pushing his sleeves up without realising, exposing the familiar lines of his wrists. None of it was new, and yet it all felt newly precious, like details his heart had suddenly decided were worth remembering forever.
Andrew spoke about nothing in particular. His week, an article he’d read, a story Steven had told him years ago that he’d somehow remembered in perfect detail. He laughed softly, the sound low and unguarded, and Steven found himself watching Andrew’s mouth instead of listening to the words. The curve of it when he smiled, the way he paused to sip his wine before continuing, careful not to interrupt himself. It struck Steven then, with a startling clarity, that Andrew had always made space for him. Not just physically, but in every way that mattered.
And that was the thing that had him most. Andrew never tried to impress him, never demanded awe or reverence, despite being so effortlessly deserving of it. He simply existed as he was: thoughtful, attentive, warm in a way that felt chosen rather than assumed. Steven had loved many things across centuries—beautiful things, holy things, fleeting things—but this was different. This was quiet and terrifying in its permanence. Somewhere between the clink of cutlery and the glow of the kitchen light, Steven realised he wasn’t just fond, or grateful, or safe. He was warm and in deep.
“Steven, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Andrew started, taking a deep breath. The angel snapped back to reality.
“Huh? What’s up, Drew? Everything okay?”
“Yeah, uh. I left BuzzFeed. Adam did, too.”
Steven’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
“Adam and I discussed it in the office. A lot of our old friends left the company a long time ago. You, Ryan, Shane, the Try Guys… We thought it was time, you know? At first, I was unsure. You know this. Just… I thought I had it good there, built up a fanbase, and could just continue like that for years. But then you left a while ago and I couldn’t help but think about how empty your desk was. It was the same sort of… feeling… I had when you moved to Manhattan for a bit. I missed you. A lot.
Adam asked me, then, why I was so stubborn to stay in BuzzFeed. I tried listing the good things that happened… I realised… I’d rather be with you than stay there. Wherever you go, I won’t be far to follow, I decided. What we have… Well, I didn’t want to go where you didn’t, Steven.”
“Are you…”
“I called up Shane a few weeks back. Now I’m signed to Watcher.” Andrew grinned, like it was the best decision he’s made in his life. He was reserved and monotone usually, but this time… he smiled widely as someone who knew Steven was worth the risk. Steven didn’t speak at first. The words sat heavy between them, heavier than any confession he’d heard across centuries. He looked at Andrew—really looked at him—and felt that terrifying warmth spread again, steady and sure. “You okay, Steven?”
Steven moved his hand closer to Andrew’s, their fingers brushing together as the angel moved to hold his hand. Andrew squeezed his hand once, grounding, familiar. The kitchen light hummed softly above them. He smiled; soft, fond, and in love, “I will be.”
A pause.
“I missed you so much, too. You mean too much.”
Stay.
And he knows Andrew will.
And finally, after a long time, Andrew is finally his.