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The fireplace in their cottage is warm and welcoming, a soft glow washing over the cozy living room, chasing out the cold winter chill from outside. A blanket of love envelopes the two beings, simply enjoying the ability to be near each other, there on the sofa. Crowley is dozing, as is his usual this time of year, face buried in the softness of Aziraphale’s jumper, arms wrapped lazily around him. The length of Crowley’s body is draped over him, across the length of the couch. A welcome and well-loved weight against Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale, for his part, is reading by the light of his halo. An old story, but a favorite. Say what you want about kids books, but the simple stories and the morals within will always be some of his favorites. Something very human about them.
A strong wind rattles the windows, just enough to cause Crowley to stir. To cause him to groan and nuzzle his nose into the soft wool, to squeeze Aziraphale just a bit tighter. Moments like this are ones that Aziraphale cherishes, so common and expected and yet holding so much love. Amber eyes blink up at him, yellow still all the way to the edges in the haze of sleep. They seem to glow in the low firelight, lit up from within with the hellfire that courses through Crowley’s veins.
“Hello dear,” Aziraphale says as he sets aside his book, leaning down and pressing a kiss into Crowley’s hair.
“Hrnng…” is all the response he gets as Crowley nuzzles his face where Aziraphale’s shoulder meets his neck, winds his arms around the angel tighter.
“Silly old serpent, how can one being be so sleepy all the time?”
“Not my fault you’re comfortable. Old sofa, that’s you. Could curl up and sleep here forever.”
“You’re a menace.”
“You love me.” Crowley looks up at him then, props his head on one of his hands, bony elbow resting against Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale wonders, occasionally, if Crowley is worried that he won’t say it back. That someday he’ll just stop.
“Yes I do, for always.” He takes Crowley’s left hand in his, presses a kiss to the silver band there, the marker of his love. The symbol of the commitment they made together and to each other. A promise that Aziraphale intends to keep as long as his soul exists.
“For always…” Crowley's smile spreads slowly, lighting up his entire face. It’s a smile with no reservations and no conditions; one that he wears more often these days, in their quiet retirement by the sea. Of all the things Crowley has given him - the dinners, the chocolates, the time, and yes, even his ring - Aziraphale thinks these smiles freely given are the most precious.
What else is he supposed to do but lean in and kiss him? So he does, a soft press of lips. They both sigh into it, comfortable in this well-worn but still shiny and beautiful love, the patina of age only serving to enhance the beauty of it.
“Angel?” Crowley’s voice is a soft whisper when they break. “Have I told you about when I fell in love with you?”
“No darling, I don’t believe you have.” Aziraphale reaches out, cards a hand through Crowley’s hair. He’s gone short again, and Aziraphale must admit it’s rather fetching. Though to him, it always is. “Would you like to tell me?”
Crowley grins at him, settles himself back onto Aziraphale’s chest, ear right over where Aziraphale’s all-too-human-heart beats steady. “Could do, if you wanna hear it…”
“Of course I do, Crowley,” he says as he presses another kiss into Crowley’s hair, relishing the way the demon melts into him at this simple and soft affection.
“Well, you see, at one point I was a snake. I had one simple task-”
“I thought you were always a snake, darling?”
“Aziraphale who’s telling this story, you or me?”
“Ah, of course dear, carry on then.”
“Well, I was a snake, with one simple task. To ‘get up there and make some trouble’...”
Aziraphale’s breath catches as he listens to Crowley talk about Eve and Adam; of apples and forbidden knowledge. The story of when Crowley fell in love with him, and it starts in a garden - THE Garden - for that long, for all this time. Aziraphale feels the pinpricks of tears start to form at the corners of his eyes.
“...And I looked up and I saw you there, standing on top of that wall. Bright and shining and so damned beautiful . Was like seeing the sun for the first time, angel. I was trapped in your orbit, completely gone from the very first glance. All I could do was to slither up that wall, I had to talk to you, I had to know your name.”
“All those millennia?” Aziraphale chokes out on a shaky breath, arms winding around Crowley and holding him tight, tighter than he usually does. “All that time you...you waited for me?”
“All that time, angel,” Crowley says with infinite softness, tilting his head to place a couple of tender kisses under Aziraphale’s jaw. “And I don’t regret a second of it. I’ve been drawn to you forever, Aziraphale, pretty sure I always will be. You talked to me like a friend that day, not like one of the Fallen. You showed me kindness, something I had forgotten.”
Crowley wiggles out of his arms just enough to be able to kiss him. Once, twice, a third time for good measure.
“As long as I’ve known you, angel,” Crowley whispers against his lips, “I’ve been yours as long as I’ve known you.”
“Oh, Crowley ,” Aziraphale sighs as he kisses him again, holding him close and safe. There are no more books read tonight, no more stories told. Just an angel and a demon, wrapped in each other’s arms in a little cottage by the sea, with all the time in the world.