Work Text:
Crowley let out a long, exhausted sigh as he closed the door to the flower shop.
The next sigh he let out was one of relief as he turned around and saw the bookshop on the other side.
His haven.
His home.
All he wanted to do was take a long, hot shower, eat the meal his lover had prepared and slip under the sheets to finally rest.
Moments later he stepped through the door of the bookshop and said quietly, "I'm home".
He was surprised to find only silence, when he'd usually been greeted by Aziraphale's cheerful voice and a few kisses.
He called softly as he moved further into the shop, "Aziraphale?"
When he reached the sofa, he couldn't suppress a small gasp of surprise, for it was a rather rare sight.
Aziraphale was asleep on the sofa.
The florist had caught him falling asleep in his armchair reading a book on several occasions, but never asleep on the sofa like this.
Crowley's exhaustion vanished almost instantly, replaced by a surge of tenderness as he watched his sleeping lover, his cheek resting on one hand, clutching Crowley's hoodie against his chest.
To hell with the hot shower or the lovingly prepared meal, all he wanted now was to cuddle up to his lover in the empty space right next to him.
The florist kicked off his shoes, dropped his jacket to the floor and pulled the rubber band out of his hair before he climbed onto the sofa, slipping between Aziraphale's arms and intertwining his legs with his.
He wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and Aziraphale, though still asleep, snuggled instinctively against him.
Crowley, moved by his lover's trust in him even as he slept, pressed a lingering kiss to Aziraphale's forehead.
Without opening his eyes, the bookseller sighed contentedly before saying in a drowsy voice, "Welcome home, my love.
Crowley, stripped of all inhibition by his exhaustion, murmured into his lover's fluffy hair, "I love you. So very much."
"Mmmh... I love you too."
His heart overflowing with love, the florist buried his face in the soft, pale hair as his arms tightened around Aziraphale.
Then, lulled by the soft breathing of his lover against his neck, he too fell asleep.
In a final burst of consciousness, he told himself he didn't need a hot shower, a good meal or even a cosy bed to feel better.
Just the arms of his beloved.