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Crowley had relocated from their bed to the sofa some time ago. They were dozing, catching up on the sleep that nightmares and resulting flashbacks had stolen from them. They were sprawled across the cushions of a sofa that looked far less comfortable than it actually was. As they dozed, they could hear Aziraphale pottering around somewhere else within the cottage.
What was e doing? Crowley thought.
They didn’t dwell on that thought for much longer, being too warm and sleepy.
At one point the former-angel’s footsteps disappeared and a jolt of panicked horror seized Crowley, before their ears caught the sound of footsteps upstairs and they settled back down.
Aziraphale came back downstairs again sometime later. They distantly remembered hearing the sound before e was taking a seat beside them. E moved their head carefully up before setting it on er lap. The slightly-scratchy fabric of er pants brushed against their cheek.
Crowley dozed off again short after. Until fingers were carding through their hair. And then they felt something hard and metal pushing into the back of their head.
It made them frown into Aziraphale’s pant leg — what was that? It didn’t feel like a cardigan button, they knew what that felt like to lie on that.
They sat up quickly and whirled around to face their angel…and their brain promptly blue-screened at seeing what e was wearing.
A hoodie. A zip-up cream coloured hoodie.
E was wearing a hoodie. Aziraphale had been wearing the same outfit for over a hundred and fifty years. Why had e changed?
E had never been particularly modern — that had always been Crowley — so why was e modernising now?
“Angel…” they called. “You’re wearing a hoodie?”
Aziraphale frowned and then smiled.
“Oh, yes. I am,” e said, still bloody smiling.
“What happened to your cardigan?” Crowley asked. “Or your vest?”
“Nothing! Nothing! My cardigan and vest are both perfectly fine,” e reassured them quickly. “I just fancied a change,”
They spluttered.
“‘Fancied a change’? What?”
Crowley’s eyes trailed over er body, and specifically er hoodie.
“Not that it looks bad — you look really good in it,” Blush worked its way across their cheekbones. “I’m just surprised, ‘s all,” they finished, lamely.
Aziraphale fussed about the hoodie, smoothing it out and fixing it so that it sat against er body smoother.
“That’s understandable, I have been wearing the same outfit every day for well over a hundred years,” e agreed. “Now, are you going to lie back down? You looked quite comfortable earlier,”
Crowley ducked their head and averted their eyes. They were still so sleepy, even after napping all morning, and it had been really comfortable. The rapidly dropping daily temperatures as it became winter probably had something to do with that first one. And now that the mystery of Aziraphale’s hoodie had been sorted out and nothing was wrong, that was coming back in full force.
Their hair — which had grown out considerably since the two of them had moved away from London — fell in their face as they did.
“Yuh…”
The former-demon did just that, lying back down and closing their eyes again. The side of their face resting against Aziraphale’s leg.
Paper rustled softly, e was probably reading.
The two of them stayed like that for the rest of the morning.
Later, Aziraphale would go back to er usual cardigan, the hoodie hung up carefully in their shared closet. Later, Crowley would steal it and e would come back from the bathroom to find one black and red serpent coiled up and fast asleep within the hoodie’s folds.