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Aziraphale knew that Crowley slept regularly. He also knew that, ever since they’ve been living together in the South Downs, Crowley had decided that he didn’t really like to sleep alone. He liked having Aziraphale next to him throughout the night. There was something comforting, both Crowley and Aziraphale agreed, about being together but in their own space, so neither of them minded very much. Plus, their cottage only had a single bedroom and it was often warmer and more comfortable than the lounge or kitchen. Aziraphale liked having cozier spaces when it came time for his reading sessions, and Crowley, being cold blooded, enjoyed the warmth that being near Aziraphale gave.
However, Crowley did have a tendency to find things to latch onto in his sleep. Usually it was the nearest object, which, in most cases, was Aziraphale. On one particular night, Aziraphale had been reading a rather intense part of The Woman in White when a leg snaked its way around the angel’s ankle. It had just been Crowley, shifting himself closer to Aziraphale in his sleep. Sometimes he snored, which Aziraphale found to be endearing, particularly when Crowley denied that he would ever do such a thing. Then of course there were the times when Aziraphale would come into the bedroom to find Crowley stretched out in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position on a wall or the bedroom door. Aziraphale would insist that it was no surprise when Crowley would complain about back pain the next day, even though Crowley explained that he was a demon, and shouldn't get things like back pain. Aziraphale thought just the opposite. He said it was because Crowley was demon that he would get aches. He probably had a hand in inventing them, for Heaven's sake.
Although, one thing Aziraphale had never seen anyone do, especially not Crowley, is sleep talk — which is why it took Aziraphale by surprise when Crowley began to mumble partially coherent words, despite being passed out. It had been a relatively quiet evening, Aziraphale had been reading for a little over four hours as Crowley slept beside him. He usually slept facing away from the angel, so that he was next to him but not bothered by Aziraphale’s reading light. At some point Crowley must have moved towards Aziraphale. The angel didn't notice until he heard his name be mumbled softly from his right.
“‘Ziraphale…”
Aziraphale blinked. He glanced away from his signed copy of Les Misérables and over at Crowley. He was splayed out gracelessly in a tangle of sheets and limbs, sound asleep. He looked almost comical with his mouth hanging open, completely oblivious to the waking world. A little trail of drool cascaded down his cheek and onto the pillow. He looked utterly adorable.
“Have I told you that I really love you?” he slurred softly.
Aziraphale raised a curious eyebrow. Crowley was talking. To him. In his sleep. This is new, Aziraphale thought.
“Yeah, well it’s true,” he continued. “Always loved you.”
Aziraphale knew that if he looked in the mirror just then, he would have seen a man who’s cheeks were as red as a tomato. What did Crowley mean he was in love with him? Aziraphale paused for a minute, staring at Crowley. He then set his book aside and gingerly adjusted himself beneath the covers so he lay on his side, facing the sleeping demon. He held his breath and waited for another word and was slightly disappointed when Crowley met him with just a soft snore.
“Really, my dear? You are going to leave me like this?” Aziraphale said teasingly. He flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
“Hm? No. I’d never leave you.”
Aziraphale turned his head sharply to look at Crowley. He had just answered him.
“I wanna be with you for’ver,” Crowley said.
Aziraphale felt his heart flutter slightly.
“Forever?” he repeated.
“M’ just...so happy when I’m with you, you know?” Crowley murmured.
“You’ve always felt this way?” Aziraphale said softly, smiling. He fought the urge to brush some of Crowley’s fiery-red wisps away from his eyes.
“Well, yes, I s’pose. Since...since Eden,” Crowley replied.
Aziraphale beamed and inched closer to Crowley. “Really?”
From an outside perspective, Aziraphale knew that he must have seemed ridiculous. Having a semi-coherent conversation with a sleeping demon. But they were alone, and he was content. He gazed at Crowley. The demon had always been very attractive, and Aziraphale had no doubt that Crowley knew that, too. But sleep gave him a new look, something that softened his sharp edges, something that made him look years younger. He looked angelic.
Crowley sighed deeply in his sleep.
“And I know you’re not ready,” Crowley rambled on. Aziraphale watched and listened. “But I’ll wait. I promise I will wait.”
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered. He could feel tears begin to burn in the back of his eyes. This is what Crowley truly thought of him, then. What he must have been too afraid to say when he was awake. Aziraphale found it to be one of the most heart-warming things he had ever experienced.
“Crowley, I...I love you, too,” Aziraphale replied softly, his voice leaden with a hoarseness that only comes from feeling like your heart is soaring, a rare happiness that he hasn’t experienced in so very long. He slowly moves his hand so it rests on Crowley’s arm.
Crowley sniffs quietly. “Y’do?”
“Of course, my dearest.”
“Mmm, that’s nice. I...I didn’t think y’would.”
Aziraphale furrowed his brow. “Why ever not?”
“M’a demon. You’re an angel…”
“That doesn’t matter,” Aziraphale said. “We’re free, now, on our own side, as you say.”
“Hm, yeah.”
“I love you so much, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, feeling an overwhelming amount of love grow within his chest. “I hope that you will always know that.”
“Always…” Crowley repeats the word and it lingers on his lips for a moment before he slips even further into sleep, looking the most at peace as Aziraphale has ever seen him.
“Dream of whatever you like best, and I will be here when you wake,” Aziraphale said, stroking Crowley’s forehead with his thumb. “Sleep well, my dear.”
Aziraphale hardly slept. He hadn’t been planning on doing it that night, either, not when he had such a moment to savor. With a quick, soft snap of his fingers, the reading light that he had been using flicked off and the room was filled with darkness. He adjusted the covers around Crowley’s thin frame and snuggled up close beside him. Morning would come in a few hours, and he knew Crowley would definitely not remember his words and what they meant, but it didn’t matter. Dawn wasn’t there yet and all Aziraphale could do was simply listen to Crowley’s soft, even breathing. He let his mind replay the words that Crowley had spoken. For once, in a long, long time, he felt himself be filled with a love and gratification that only Crowley could ever provide.