Work Text:
If Crowley hadn’t been 100% sure that Angels didn’t build nests, he might have been tricked into thinking that Aziraphale was, well, building some sort of nest.
He had pulled a love seat near the window, laid down the biggest of the settee cushions, between the back of the love seat and the window, covered it with a sheet so it held together, and stuffed in blankets and pillows.
It was all topped by the duvet that should have been on their bed. It made a nest, perfect for two adult shaped beings.
Crowley blinked, Aziraphale was growing nervous.
“You don’t like it?”
“Just taking it all in, Angel.” Crowley replied, making Aziraphale nod his head. A few more moments of silence and Crowley took a hesitating step forward.
“What is it for?”
“Ah, well. You said you wouldn’t mind listening to me read some ‘Pirot’, you know that detective chap by Agatha Christie, so I thought we could make it into a nice weekend. I know you don’t much enjoy the cold, so I thought a little fort where we could keep warm and you could relax would do the trick nicely.”
“So you built a blanket fort.”
“It is next to the radiator too, so you shouldn’t get cold at all. And we can just miracle food and water. Well, wine.”
Crowley chucked, walking to Aziraphale and draping himself over the Angel. “I love it.”