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    Summary

    Said I, a few weeks ago: "I feel there’s also room for e.g. bedsharing fic where the apocalypse has Not Happened and they’ve fallen into queerplatonic (or so they think) bedsharing and Crowley thinks he’s alone in being driven slowly to distraction by it, so he says nothing. Then one night he wakes when it’s still dark, and at first he doesn’t know why, until he hears Aziraphale’s breathing a little raspier than usual, and feels the very slight trembling of the bed."

    And lo, that is exactly what this is.

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