Work Text:
By the light of a few candles, and a flaming log with a few branches still attached, Aziraphale and Crowley sat and weaved together evergreen wreaths in the Mayfair flat. A Bûche de Noël was waiting on the table alongside a late bottled vintage port, chosen to pair with the boozy cherries in the cake.
They worked on their wreaths in a content quiet, the occasional murmured comment between them. Once completed, they affixed them to the door; Aziraphale beamed as Crowley gave him a small kiss.
They went inside to enjoy their yule logs, both baked and on fire.