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The snow was cool and crisp when Crowley sunk his hands into it, flurries sticking to his hands then melting when he patted it close together. In short time he had made a snowball, adding it to the growing pile next to him. Crowley had been on one of their quite traditional strolls with Aziraphale, but lagged behind to scheme.
Thinking of how his Angel would react to the surprise of a snow attack brought a grin to Crowley's face, making the numbing feeling of his hands worth it. It had been in the middle of December, almost Christmas time, when a huge snow storm hit England, contributing to the already icy roads and damp weather.
During the calm of the storm, Aziraphale saw it fit for them to, "Enjoy and witness the wonders of nature, my dear." Whereas Crowley, who was very satisfied with staying indoors of the closed bookshop and covered in his mountain of blankets, pouted and bluntly refused. "Hm, if you insist. Though, if I'm correct, I believe I heard carols being sung around the corner. Wouldn't it be lovely if they came here? I know how much you find pleasure in listening to them." Aziraphale shot an innocent glance to the bundled up demon.
"Isn't the 12 Days of Christmas your favorite, my dear?" Crowley had never moved faster to grab his coat and get outside, dutifully scowling out, "That much of a bastard, aren't we, Angel." and missing the smugness of said angel's face behind him.
Brought back to Crowley on his knees, he noticed Aziraphale still distractingly watching the ice skaters on the lake- the one they always feed the ducks at, now completely frozen over- from his point standing on the bridge. "Good, now you'll see how "wonderful" this nature is once it's freezing down your back." Crowley snickered, scooping up his collection of ammo and making his way towards his unsuspecting husband.
Only a soft crunching sound could be heard as Crowley expertly weaved out of sight and approached Aziraphale from behind, the coldness barely bothered the demon now, his excitement was too great. With a steady hand, he plucked a snowball from the top of his pile and slowly brought it up and back, readying it for launch. No longer did Crowley's cheeks hurt from the freezing weather and harsh winds that whipped his hair about- the stylish style of his hair long gone thanks to that- but now from wild grin on his face.
To be fair, he should give out somewhat of a warning, shouldn't he?
"Oooh Angeeeel~"
That's good enough. And how it was, oh, very, very good.
Crowley saw everything go in slow motion, the way Aziraphale perked up at the sound of his name, turning around with no doubt a welcoming smile, with that a "Hello there-" was almost said and finished before Aziraphale's warm, happy looking face changed confused, then his eyes went wide once he saw what exactly was happening and watched with a gaping mouth and useless, outstretched arms to stop Crowley from descending the cursed ball of cold crunch straight at the center of his chest.
And of course, the promising screech of surprise, followed by, "Crowley!"
With the snow shattering and spreading, bits of it got caught in Aziraphale's scarf, more to come as Crowley relentlessly fired on, Aziraphale's neck, chest-thankfully his coat was something of a waterproof kind and quite thick- and hair got covered in the chilling snow, some to his legs as he scrambled away to safety.
"Uah, You absolute child!" Aziraphale shouted out, his feet slipped on and about from the slick of the frozen over cobble stones, finally able to grasp enough friction and dart towards the nearby brush. "You're being ridiculous!" He added from his cover of a couple of snow covered bushes by the bridge he managed to duck to, his voice had more laughter than any real anger behind it.
Crowley let out a cackle that did not at all help in his defense. "What's that? The angel of the eastern gate can't handle a bit of snooow? You wanted to go out my dear Aziraphale and I'm simply helping." He chucked another snowball at the peeping blonde head that quickly pulled back with an "Eep!"
"You know very well this is not what I meant!"
Aziraphale took the liberty to assume he was not getting out of this without a fight, no matter how many ways he looked at it, Crowley had him surrounded each and every way. "Appreciating nature does not work this way."
"Bah, I call it speeding up the process." Without even looking, he could tell Crowley was shrugging. "Beside, this is much more fun than acting like an old granny and cooing at the sparkling snow."
Crowley sniggered at the offended gasp he heard and a squawk of, "I do no such thing!"
Besides them, a few stragglers and the ducks had taken up the vicinity of the winter landscape of the bridge and park, barely taking any notice to them as the ground filled untouched snow piles and calming setting of the late morning became trampled and the air filled with rambunctious noises.
"You know," Crowley mused out loud, wrapping his unfortunately bare hands around yet another snow ball and stalking around the bend of the brush, "I'm finding it in myself that I enjoy the winter months now."
Aziraphale gave a "Hm?" to make it known he was listening, just barely as he was too much busy with his own making of ammo to pay any real thought to Crowley's obvious teasing.
The angel had dressed sensible for the weather and so his gloved hands brought homemade snowballs much faster and more efficient than his husband's earlier ones, coming up with a hardy pile of sweet revenge. Aziraphale shook his head with knowing smile. Crowley's fashion before function rule would've sooner or later failed him.
Poor dear.
Before he could get caught because of his reminiscing, he swooped up his newly acquired weapons in his arms and Aziraphale crept slightly as he could, in the opposite direction from where he could last hear Crowley, creating a nice round about and perhaps a nice sneak attack back at the wily snake.
Aziraphale's breath turns into thick, white puffs of air as his legs bend down to a crouch, strengthening his way of stealthiness. The excitement of possible capture or discovery had him short of breath, also didn't help that he was brutally chased and attacked. Speaking of such, the annoying slide of cold snow melting against his back was not appreciated. Nor the clumps stuck on his woolen scarf.
Squinting, Aziraphale could see where lied the faint imprints of Crowley's foot steps, leading towards the left side of the gardened area while he came from the right, confirming his suspicions of this becoming a big circle of cat and mouse.
"Come on out, Angel~" Crowley sing-songed, frowning slightly when he didn't see his target where he formerly was, behind his barrier of safety. Aziraphale muffled his snicker with his hand at the pause of silence from the oblivious demon. "Angel...?" Where did he run off to now?
"You know, as soon as you let me use the rest of my snowballs on you," a quick snap of fingers from a certain red head made three snowballs magically into a nice eleven, "the sooner we can go on about our day. Seems only just, right?"
"I'd say wrong, my dear."
Crowley whipped around to face the sudden appearance of Aziraphale towering over the bushes from the other side of him, leftover snow dripping from his mussed up hair, arms full with fresh snowballs and a face full of determination and smugness alongside a very déjà vu Moment as Aziraphale has his arm pulled back and ready.
"Oh bloody Ma-"
The impact is immediate and thus began the true beginning of the snowball fight, a fair one more or less. One after one the rain of snowballs came, both celestial beings running back and fourth as they threw and dodged the coldness being pelted at them. Aziraphale did an impressive slide on his feet- making his way around the bend of the bench, while Crowley chased after him once again and had to fight hard to keep from flailing and winding up headfirst into the snow from attempting to follow such movements.
The angel's laugh was lost in the wind as he fastened his pace and rushed for the pathway leading towards the middle of the park, blurred trees passed his vision and his feet stayed sturdy in their dashing, Crowley, not so much.
"I swear Aziraphale, you're-" a bit of fallen snow covered branches tangled up momentarily on his ankles, his stumbling resolved with a speedy hop and a twist of the legs, "you're cheating!"
He could hear the scoff as Aziraphale turned his head slightly and shouted back behind him, "Now, how would I do that?" his voice full with disbelief and a touch of mischief while he continued on running, narrowly avoiding a snowball to the head, but not so narrowly missing the one that laid a heavy smack to his shoulder.
The glare that Crowley was making came off in waves, Aziraphale could feel it. Crowley let out a growl and pumped his legs faster, weaving to and fro to dodge the erratic snowballs carelessly thrown backwards from Aziraphale. He ran towards Aziraphale, ready to pounce on him, but in the next second, a large deposit of a snow and ice wall appeared out of nowhere, smashing down on top of Crowley.
A dry laugh- from a very not so dry demon, came from under the sheet of snow, the one that had been previously canopied very nicely on the huge oak tree above him, quite a miracle on how it was able to come loose and fall at just the right time, on the right person.
"Truce?"
Grumbling in agreement, Crowley propped himself up by the elbow and gave Aziraphale a rude gesture, which made the angel standing above him chortle as he offered his hand.
"Hardly any need for that, my dear." he said, taking Crowley's hand in his own as he tried to help the scowling demon up. Crowley not only took Aziraphale's hand, but also used his other to double- what looked the effort to rise back on his feet- his grip on the angel hand.
Crowley tightened his grasp and gave Aziraphale a cheeky grin and hissed.
"Truce my asssssss you cheater."
With the mighty yank, the confused Aziraphale was soon immersed in the same pile of snow, falling on top of Crowley- who wrapped his arms around him in a big bear huge to keep him from escaping, with the chilling cold surrounding him, making him shiver extremely.
"That's-that's- Crowley! Let go of me this instant you- ah it's down my boots! Crowley-Cro- No don't roll, you madman, release me! Ooh MY GO-"
After some more tumbling together, both Crowley and Aziraphale were now soaked from head to toe from the freezing cold snow as they shoveled their way out, giggling like children and staggering up on to their own feet, now steady and freezing.
"Now-" Crowley panted out, grin from ear to ear, "Now it'ssss a truce."
~
The bookshop was an oven of heat, well appreciated by the chilly celestials as they entered with gusto, throwing off their heavy coats, scarves and hats unto the rack and letting them drip dry on the mud mat- they'd be moved closer to the fire place later to get dried off better.
They're boots and mittens followed quickly afterwards, Crowley kicking his off carelessly without the ties being undone, while Aziraphale neatly took his off properly and bent down to stack them in the cubbies.
Once he stood back up, he winced. "I'm fine with wet feet, no issue. But wet socks? On my feet? No can do there. Simply disgusting."
Crowley let out a huff of laughter, already on his way to change into much warmer and less dripping clothes- most of his things had taken their rightly place in Aziraphale's home, a surprise he hasn't decided to move in yet.
Or move out together and find their own place to call home.
"Such standards, Angel. Why didn't you just 'miracle' them back to your exact preference then? Instead of just grumbling as you walked all the way back. Eh?"
Aziraphale jutted his chin out, the air of defiance thick around him, "Well, very difficult to do so when you have a certain fiend who keeps dragging you through the walkways- the only walkways to the bookshop mind you, that are somehow now piling with snow, making sure that the current snow that melted in my boots would be replaced!"
Crowley from around the corner 'tsked' "Hm, I'd say, verrry difficult. Weird shit happens with mother nature, can't question that. One moment the trail is clear then-"
He popped his head back out from the wardrobe he was currently shuffling in and looked at the angel glowering at him, "BAM! Snow here, snow there, snow in your hair and in your case...."
"Feet."
"Yes! Feet!"
Chuckling to himself, Crowley made haste to duck back to the clothes in the wardrobe to narrowly miss the projectile wet garments that Aziraphale threw at him, giving the wall behind the demon a wet, loud, SLAP.
Aziraphale gave him one final glare and then turned on the balls of his feet, straight around and headed towards his room upstairs.
"Be a dear and put the kettle on for us whilst I changed? Thank you." he said over his back, hearing a noise that could or could not be classified as conformation, but took it as such.
And blatantly ignoring the call of, "Whilst? Pft, the 14th century called, they want their grammar back!"
~
The fire was roaring- the whole downstairs filled with a properly toasty feeling, the kettle had been turned on per request and now was placed onto a oven mitt, with steaming cups of cocoa next to it. Crowley was in mid pour of the marshmallows when Aziraphale walked in- dressed in a knitted, baby blue jumper and soft, grey sweatpants that Crowley so lovingly bought for him simply because he needed to 'upgrade' his dress wear a notch.
Crowley had gone for a fetching black turtle-neck with a white snowflakes design on it- curtsey of Aziraphale's taste in attire, winter style his weakness- and regular blue jeans.
"Mhm, Angel?" Crowley's sudden voice broke him from his fashion wonderment, taking Aziraphale's attention else where. "Would you say that there's such a thing as too many marshmallows?"
He made his way behind Crowley, gently grabbing his shoulders and tip toeing to peer over with a hum, giving the cocoa filled mugs an appraising look.
"Hardly. I would say the more the better."
Aziraphale could feel the stifle of the chuckle through his hands, moving back slightly to give Crowley room to go over to the cupboard that held the various spices- something that became vital when Aziraphale decided one day he wanted to partake in cooking classes, no argument from either parties of the new addition to the kitchen, makes it feel rather...normal and homey.
"Feeling up to a bit of cinnamon as well?" Crowley asked, raising a small vail up to the light, reading the tag to be certain it was indeed the right one.
They don't talk about the Chili Incident.
Aziraphale smiled. "If you'd be so kind, yes please." his tone happy and light, matching the mood in the room perfectly. Crowley was swift with the sprinkling of spice and no later did Azirpahale have in his hands a hot, decorative mug of fresh cocoa.
"Shall we?" with drinks in hand, they moved through bookshop front and to the other side, where the fire placed and couch was stationed, small mountains of old and new books surrounded them in a cozy way.
Crowley had taken the opportunity to gather blankets and various pillows before-hand, converting said couch into a cushy heap of comfort- something that Aziraphale greatly valued, and he let himself be guided over, taking his spot close to Crowley and sighing contentedly.
"Just splendid, don't you agree?" he asked, bringing his legs up in a curling motion and snuggling closer to Crowley- who gladly accepted the gesture with enthusiasm as hung his arm around Aziraphale, pulling and keeping him near.
The light from the flames casted shadows on Crowley's face, enchanting his sharp features- the contrast softness of his amber eyes, his hair ruffled from drying off, strands wild but still so fitting for Crowley; Aziraphale pondered to himself. And for a moment, Crowley was in some sort of trance as he sat there, holding his breath, staring out to the fire place in the room.
"It feels great to be here and share these kinds of moments with someone you love, isn't?" Aziraphale tried again, softly.
"Oh, this the danger of sounding like an absolute sappy knob," he sucked in a labored breath, fighting off the creeping blush on his cheeks, "but with you, how can it not?" Crowley mumbled, straightening and wrapping the blanket closer their bodies.
"I know," Aziraphale nodded, his tone sweet and almost a whisper, "Music?"
Crowley gave a squeeze that Aziraphale took as a yes and regrettable left the warm comfort of their blanket fort, walking over to his vintage record player- old and well used but worked beautifully, just as new as the day it was bought in the late 70's, 1870's that is.
As he thumbed through the records, Aziraphale let fond memories flow through him as soon as he saw the vinyl of Bing Crosby's Christmas Carols, bringing a somewhat dumbfounded smile to his face.
Crosby had always been a favorite of Aziraphale's, with the singer's demeanor full of happiness and seeming always cheerful, not to mention how close he was to his family and the value for love he had. Back when A Bing Crosby Christmas first aired, Crowley had taken the duty to invite him over to watch it on the telly, a lovely night, such as this one with all the snow and snuggling.
Although, back then it was much different, the closeness came as per accident, the effect of a late, lazy evening with calmness in the air. Now, now everything was done with a purpose and no longer did they need to worry over such things as who's watching them, each of them from a very distinct opposite side, and so on.
The low rumble of Crosby's voice rang out as the lyrics of 'Silver Bells' started, Aziraphale closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. Everything felt perfect.
"You look immensely happy." Crowley stated and a glance over confirmed he was smiling up at him, fond and crooked.
"Oh? Hard not to, darling," Aziraphale chuckled, going back over to the awaiting arms of his husband, his sock covered feet pattering slightly on the carpeted floor, "Simply impossible."
He all but fell back into Crowley's arms, letting himself get bundled back up, half drunken cocoa waiting on the coffee table before them, the soft sound of music filling the room, the snow flittering down in small but many flakes outside as it stuck to the glass of the bookshop window and with the shine of the afternoon light slowly turning to evening.
The heat radiating from Aziraphale's body had Crowley on the verge of sleep, his eyes closed- glasses well off by now, the feeling of dozing off very tempting, especially with the setting of the low lights in the living room, only source of main light from the fire and whatever sun still held up outside, before slipping away into darkness.
They had somehow moved from sitting huddled up on the couch, to laying down, with Crowley on his back and Aziraphale on his chest, his head resting just under the demon's chin. It was all quite nice, the urge of sleep crawling closer and closer with every breath Crowley took, deep, steady ones that rose Aziraphale's head every so often in a solid pattern.
A new song started to play as the lulling moments passed by, the only sounds that could be heard were the crackle of the fire wood burning, the wisping the of the wind outside, calm murmurs of each other's breathing and the odd noises of the bookshop settling.
That was, until Aziraphale broke the soothing tranquility.
"Before you completely succumb to napping," Aziraphale's voice was a hushed tone, bringing Crowley to only raise his eyebrows, something as small as that he could do to let the angel know he was listening, "I do have to tell you that we've been asked to attend young Adam's Christmas party, he sounded most excited when he told me over the phone the other day."
Crowley hummed wordless acknowledgment of his comment, burrowing back into the pleasantness of cuddling.
"Well?"
Crowley groaned.
"Well what, Angel?"
"Don't you wish to know when it is?"
This time, he raised his head up completely, more awake now and moving in such a way that jostled Aziraphale to be propped up on his elbows, staring innocently into Crowley's unimpressed glare.
"You're shit at being clever." he deadpanned.
Aziraphale trailed his finger around Crowley's shirt button absentmindedly, a ghost of a smirk on his face, "And you have dreadful language manners, alas, it seems we both can't do anything about either, hm?"
Crowley's eyes narrowed until they were slits, his serpent tongue escaping in rapid, fleeting moments, "Why you che-"
He was caught off before even finishing his sentence by a pair of criminally delightful lips entrapping his, the kiss chaste and done far too soon to Crowley's liking. He won't confirm nor deny that he sputtered once Aziraphale pulled back, returning to his rightful place snuggled under the various blankets and close to Crowley, his arms wrapping back around his neck and a twinkle permanently in his eyes.
"Go back to resting, my dear, we'll talk later." a tiny yawn came from his mouth, Aziraphale ignoring the obvious pouting from the demon, "I'd say, I'm feeling rather tuckered out myself."
"B-But-"
The angel made a brisk shushing noise, squeezing the winding himself tighter around Crowley's body, the atmosphere quieting down, the sound of Bing Crosby's voice easing to a gentle strain of music- scarcely audible, the light now solely dependent on the fire, that created inky shadows to dance across the room, all completely ready for a well earned nap, "Sleep now."
Sensing he may have lost the argument, Crowley did the most tactical thing he could think of, that is of course, listening to his husband and doing exactly as Aziraphale had said.
Didn't mean he went quietly, groaning and griping all the way as he repositioned himself on the couch, head laid back and eyes once again closed, waiting for the hand of sleep to come back and claim him. His mouth quirked up as he heard Aziraphale mumble something against his shirt.
"Come again, Angel?" he asked, fighting off a tired smile.
Aziraphale moved around once more, "I said; Good night Crowley, sweet dreams."
"Oh, 'course 'course. G'night, have wonderfully horrid nightmares. Think of sugar plums dancing but tortuously melting and screaming. Or maybe little elves getting frost bite up in the North Pole. Even yet, Santa Claus himself unfortunately caught stuck in the chimney, forev-"
"Crowley!" Aziraphale gave him a hearty slap on the chest, causing a bark of laughter to come from him, "I get the idea. Good. Night."
Quieting down to chuckling, Crowley's voice softened and his whole body filled with a disgustingly happy feeling, making the cocoon of blankets so much warmer and cozy.
"Sleep well, Angel," he added with a whisper, "love you." his eye lids becoming heavier and heavier with every breathe he took, the outline of Aziraphale's body against his, a comforting tenderness.
He was almost sound asleep, barely catching the words that fell from Aziraphale's mouth, muttering nearly incoherently,
"I love you too, Crowley."