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It was one of those mornings.
When the nightmare clung to Crowley like a leech.
When he felt its shadow hovering over his head.
He reached the kitchen where Aziraphale was finishing the coffee, the smell pleasantly tingling his nose.
He couldn't hold back a yawn, then scratched his head before saying in a still sleepy voice, "Good morning, my angel."
He planted a kiss on Aziraphale's hair as he walked by and jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter.
Aziraphale looked at him with a fond expression and replied, "Good morning, sweetheart. I'm surprised you're up, considering it's your day off. You could have slept longer. "
Crowley shook his head and replied monosyllabically, "Nightmare...couldn't sleep."
Aziraphale's expression turned compassionate as he poured coffee into two cups before turning to his lover and handing him one. The florist took it gratefully, inhaling its scent with an expression of delight.
He set the cup down beside him and took the bookseller's hand, pulling him between his legs. Aziraphale, smiling with amusement, let the florist manhandle him without resistance until he was in the right place, with his back to him.
The bookseller leaned against Crowley, who wrapped his arms and legs around him, resting his chin on his lover's shoulder.
Aziraphale took a sip of coffee and, after humming contentedly, asked Crowley quietly, "Aren't you drinking your coffee?"
Crowley hummed against Aziraphale's ear, "I need you now, not coffee, at least not right now. Can I stay like this for a while?"
Aziraphale nodded and replied softly, "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need."
They stayed like that for a few moments in silence, Aziraphale slowly sipping his coffee while Crowley nestled against him.
After a moment, the florist leaned his head forward on Aziraphale's shoulder and said softly, "I could use a sip now."
Aziraphale chuckled and brought his own cup to Crowley's mouth, who took a sip before saying, a playful smile on his lips, "It's like an indirect kiss."
Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "It's totally cheesy."
Crowley chuckled into his neck, fully aware of the shiver he was causing in his lover, before replying in a laughing tone, "I know you like it, so don't pretend you don't.... That's why I'm going to tell you something cheesier. You know I love coffee, and that I love you even more. But do you know why?"
Aziraphale shook his head, curious to see what nonsense Crowley would come up with.
"Coffee makes my day bearable, but you make it enjoyable."
Crowley's propensity for saying profound things when Aziraphale least expected it never ceased to amaze him, and above all left him once again speechless and blushing.
Crowley, knowing this, whispered in his ear, "See? I knew you'd like it. I knew you'd like my cheesiness, my sweet angel."
Aziraphale didn't try to deny it because it was true, so he set the cup down on the counter and turned before taking his lover's face between his hands and saying softly, "I still prefer a direct kiss."
Then he gently pressed his lips to the florist's and Crowley felt the last remnants of his nightmare slowly fade away in the soft, coffee-flavored embrace.