Chapter Text
Crowley sits in the park, splayed out in his usual manner. His brow furrows. Why were you not here yet? The two of you had planned to meet an hour ago and you still weren’t here. He pulls out his phone and calls your number. No answer. That was the 5th time, which was unlike you. You usually pick up the second ring, excitedly saying his name which he always found cute and enduring. He’s beginning to worry.
“Y/n, where are you?” he says with a sigh. He calls one more time.
“Hi, you’ve reached y/n! Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone, I’m probably asleep or didn’t hear it… oh right um, I’ll get back to you ASAP!” The beep is cut off as he hangs up. Guess he’ll just have to go to your flat. Silly girl, you were probably still asleep. He smiles interested to see how you’ll react to him showing up at your flat. He strolls out the park to his Bentley, as it purrs to life long before he reaches it. Queen blasts as he flies at speeds way too fast for such pedestrian-packed streets.
He arrives at the Powell estate and jogs up the stairs to the 3rd floor, passing a lonely-looking blonde. He finds your door with the ironic number of 666. He knocks on the door in a quick succession. No answer. He grumbles impatiently. He miracles the lock open and steps inside. His head snaps up almost immediately as the scent of blood hits his nose. His heart seems to stop. No. No, please tell me they didn’t find her. The awful things the demons could have done-
He runs towards the scent, coming upon your collapsed form in the hall. He slides to your side, cradling your form on his lap. “Y/n! Y/n, wake up!” He looks you over, not finding any injuries, his brow furrowing in confusion. You smell so strong of blood, but…
Oh.
Crowley blushes furiously and clears his throat as he moves the hair out of your face. You should be fine… must have fainted. You are still in your pajamas. Have you been here since this morning? He rests his palm on your forehead. You’re burning up! It reminds him of the dank, humid temperatures of Hell. Fear overwhelms him again. He doesn’t know much about human health, but he knows they aren’t supposed to run this hot. You have a fever. Your head lulls to the side, closer to his touch, as you let out a soft noise.
“Angel?” You crack open your heavy lidded eyes but don't seem to register anything. You’re too delirious from the fever to respond. “It’s gonna be ok, my Angel,” the demon speaks softly as he lifts you up and into his arms. He walks to your room and tucks you into bed, being as gentle as possible as he sits down beside you. He dials up Aziraphale. If anyone would know what to do in this case, it would be him. It rings for about two ticks before it is picked up.
“Hello, this is A.Z. Fell and-”
“Angel,” he interrupts.
“Oh! Crowley, it's you! How lovely to hear from you again,” He says in his sweet, bubbly voice.
“Angel, I need your help, a human’s sick and I don’t know what to do,” he informs his oldest friend urgently.
“A human? Are you talking about Y/N?. You're with them! Oh this is wonderful,” Zira rambles. Crowley groans. This is taking far too long for his liking.
“Yes, I’m with them. Now tell me, what to do!!” Aziraphale jumps on the other end of the line.
“Alright, there’s no need to shout,” he says quietly. “What are the symptoms?”
“They seem hotter than usual… I found them collapsed on the floor when I came in,” Crowley explains.
“Oh, dear. Well that's not good at all. Sounds like a very high fever.”
“Yes, I guessed that already,” he grumbles as he looks over at you.
“Well you need to cool them down. It can be quite serious if they stay at too high of a temperature for too long… maybe I should just come over.”
“No, no. I can do this, just tell me how.” He wants to be able to take care of you by himself. You were his angel after all. Wait, what? What was he thinking? You weren’t his. You were just friends. He’s just caring for his friend.
“All right then, here’s what you’ll need-” He goes on to explain what is needed to help you recover from the fever, and how to take care of you while you’re out of it. “And that should be about it,” Zira finishes.
“Wait, Angel! Uh…” Crowley pauses unsure of how to say it. “They’re um, bleeding, ya know… down there,” he says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
“Ah, I see.” Zira says. “Well then you’ll need a whole different set of things, dear. I wonder if the fever was caused by them being on their period. It would be quite unusual actually…” he rambles, thinking aloud. “But, yes anyway, you should get a heating pad, some pain killers, warm blankets, feminine ahem products and chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Crowley questions.
“Yes, I hear it is quite essential.”
“Alright then,” he says bewildered. “Thank you, angel.”
“Of course, dear. Good luck.” Crowley ends the call. He pulls his glasses off and looks over at you with his slitted eyes. Petting your damp hair, he hums as the sheets rise and fall with your labored breathing.
“Don’t worry angel, I’m gonna take care of you.” He gets up and slowly shuts the door behind him.
Right, off to the shop then.
You felt something touch your face. Comfort. You leaned toward it more and tried to let out a contented sigh, which came out all wrong and quite pathetic to you. You heard a muffled noise and tried to open your eyes. It was like trying to swim to the surface of the ocean with bricks tying you down. You thought you succeeded but you weren’t sure anymore. It was just a bunch of blurry red and black blobs, but they felt familiar. Safe. You closed your eyes again.. Something told you you were safe now. Why did the colors seem so familiar? Something pulled at the back of your memory, but you couldn’t quite reach it. You didn’t bother to, and instead succumbed to the heaviness of sleep pulling you back into the dark.
“How can there be so many damn types?!” Crowley hisses internally. He’s looking at the shelves filled with feminine products. Light? Medium? Heavy? How the bloody hell am I supposed to know? He picks up one of the packages labeled “Heavy,” and glares at it. “It doesn’t feel very heavy,” he thinks, tossing it up in the air and catching it again.
“Excuse me, sir,” he hears a voice from behind him. He turns around, quickly fumbling to put the package back onto the shelf. He coughs in embarrassment.
“Yes?”
“I just happened to notice you while I was stocking the shelves… you look quite lost. Do you need help finding something?”
“Ah was it that obvious?” He says with a grin. The girl blushes.
“A bit,” she replies with a teasing smile.
“Well I’m just… trying to well- You see, I don’t really-”
“Shopping for your girlfriend, ey?” the girl says knowingly. A bright pink dusts Crowley’s cheeks. Girlfriend? Well, I mean, she is a girl who’s a friend so…
“Yes, I am.”
“Awe that’s very kind of you, rare to find a man now a days willing to-”
“I am not kind,” Crowley hisses, making the girl jump at his fiery glare. She’s suddenly terrified, and quickly moves on as not to upset him any further.
“O-ok, well let’s see… does she have a heavy flow?” A raised brow in response. “You know, how much does she bleed?” Crowley thinks back on the strong smell of blood when he had first arrived.
“Probably a lot.”
“Ah, I see. I’d recommend the heavy flow ones. Oh, and these for night time.” Crowley hums. Money isn’t really a problem so he grabs two of each.
“What else would you recommend so she’s comfortable? Do you have any fever medicine here? Heat pads? What’s the best type of chocolate?”
The shop worker soon realizes she’d be helping for a while as she stares at him rattling on.
An hour later Crowley saunters out of the shop with bags weighing down both his arms. The Bentley groans in annoyance from the weight as he speeds off.
Crowley sets the bags down on your kitchen counter, unpacking they’re contents. A soft, cozy electric blanket, along with a heat pad. A heap of chocolate bars and other chocolate products to go along with all the required feminine products. Pain meds, specifically for cramps, and a fever-reducing medicine and cold/flu treatment are all spread out on the countertop.. He folds the bags and puts them in the bins in your kitchen, before he turns to the other half of the items he’d bought: more than a week's worth of groceries. Aziraphale hadn’t said how long this would last, and he doesn’t want to risk having to leave you alone again, in case something happened. He puts away the groceries, filling up your entire fridge. He really should have asked how long this illness was going to last…
He walks down the hall to your room, and cracks open the door, gazing down at you. The sheets rise and fall slowly with your chest, face flushed red with fever. Your breathing sounds harsh and he runs over to you as your breath is caught and you hack and cough violently. He sits you up against the headboard of your bed and pats your back. Your eyes crack open and widen as you remember something. You struggle in his arms trying to get up. “Shh it’s ok love,” he says running a hand over your head.
“N-no… Zira iz not,” you shake your head, starting to cry. Your slurred voice sounds so adorable to him. Wait, ‘Zira’? You think he’s Aziraphale? You’re so out of it right now, Angel. He chuckles.
“It’ll be ok, really. I’m right here, just for you.” Crowley tucks a piece of your hair back.
“Nn...nah-uh! Zia, waz today, I waz going to... at park, I said to ya ‘member? and- and noodles... Noodle boy! I have to! I gotta tell. I’m so tired of not...” The demon looks at you confused by your rambling. You are desperately trying to get out of your tangled sheets, crying now. Noodle boy? Were you referring to him? Pfff. He doesn’t know whether to be offended or not. What do you need to tell him so badly? He takes you in his arms again as you start coughing, and walks out to the living room with you. You immediately relax in his arms, sighing and leaning against him.
“Smell good,” you murmur into his chest. He coughs at that and blushes as he sets you on the couch, despite your whining and efforts to stay latched to him. He comes back quickly with the cold and fever medicine. You refuse at first, saying you “hated eating apples from Minecraft trees.” He snorts and pinches your nose until you’re forced to open your mouth, shoving the medicine in. You glare at him from under a blanket as you drink the water he offered. He shoves his glasses off and puts them on the side table, his slitted eyes glinting in amusement.
“Do you want anything else, angel,” he says getting up. “I could get you-” He finds himself tugged backwards and back onto the couch.
“No,” you say sternly. “Stay. Want cuddles.” He raises his brows. How unlike you; to be so demanding. Not that he didn’t like that. It was adorable...the determined look in your eyes. He leans in towards you and allows you to rest your head on his lap as you dozed off.
Hmm. So warm. The snake part of Crowley is very much appreciating the extra heat your body was giving off. It’s more than appreciative and he ends up pulling you onto his lap as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, soaking up all the heat you had to offer. He was practically purring. Hours went by with you two curled up like that.
You creak open your eyes eventually, head feeling less fuzzy. You try to reach for your phone to check the time, but find your arms practically glued to your sides. A vibration tickles the side of your neck. Huh?
“Stop moving.” You’re squeezed tighter as a sleepy breath fans across your collar. Are those arms wrapped around you? You recognize that voice, and realize who is wrapped around you so closely, Your face blushes so hard it rivals the red of any sunset.
“Crow..?” He groans and gets up, his hands on both sides of your body supporting him.
“Oh, so it’s not Zira anymore, hm?”
You gaze at him sleepy and confused.
“Wow, you don’t remember any of that do you?”
“W-why... so close...” You blush, squirming underneath him. Your scattered mind along with this current position made you feel so very exposed.
“The angel demanded cuddles, and cuddles she got.”
“Oh…ok,” You reply with a soft, shy smile. Crowley is shocked. Really, that’s all? No “get off me,” or slap to the face? You’ve known him for what, 6 months at most. And you’re ok with this? He cocks his head.
“Strange human,” he mutters under his breath.
“Sexy noodle~!”
Oh yeah, you’re definitely not back to normal quite yet. You were never this bold. He chuckles and rolls off you.
“I think it's ok for you to eat some food now. I’ll make some soup,” he says, sauntering into the kitchen. It’s going to be some damn good soup, considering he’s been cooking for most the millennium. You poke your head over the top of the couch, squinting as he navigates through your kitchen, getting out ingredients. Crowley hums a tune from Queen as he washes off some veggies in the sink. He’s taken by surprise when he feels arms wrap around his middle and a warm body pushing itself flush against him. His ears turn pink.
“A-angel?”
“Crowley…” you hum in a tipsy voice.
This human I swear to Father is gonna make me fall from grace for another time-!
He bites his lip, fighting back the urge to turn around and pin you against the wall, your adorable little face washed with surprise and desire-
No, no! You’re not even thinking straight, and probably don't know what your actions are doing to him. You were just friends after all. But… Why did that fact make his chest hurt?
“Crow?”
“Yes, Angel?”
“I love you.”
His heart stops.
And then starts again.
With a painful ache. Friend. Friends love each other. You love him as a friend. He stays silent and stiff, feeling his heart tear more with each quiet moment.
“I- I wanted to tell you at the park, s-since I never had the courage before. I didn’t want to ruin this and lose you, but I talked to Zira, and I… I like you, Crowley-” Yes, friend. You like me, how sweet. He thinks bitterly.
“...As more than a friend, Crow.”
He turned around, tears welling in his wide eyes.
“Do you really mean that..?” His voice was hesitant, untrusting, scared. You nod your head vigorously. All those times… his friend staring at him too long, his friend making flirty jokes, his friend glaring daggers at anyone who approached them. His friend was not his friend.
They were his angel.
He slams his lips into yours, passion and months of unrealized want breaking his self-control in an instant. You respond eagerly, lips dancing hungry on his, right where they belonged. You were both finally where you were supposed to be. With each other.
Extra:
That soup is gonna be spicy, Folks~