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Crowley stirred faintly at Aziraphale's side as the angel's arms shifted around him; his eyes blinked open blearily, and he let out an unintelligible noise, wrapping slender arms tightly around Aziraphale's middle with a grumble of protest at the thought that the angel could be making to leave the warm comfort of their bed. But Aziraphale only shushed him gently and drew him closer into where he was tucked into his broad arms, letting Crowley snuggle into his tartan nightshirt (even if he would never use such a word, himself).
"Apologies, darling," Aziraphale whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Crowley's head. "I was only tucking my novel away. Go back to sleep, love."
"Time's it?" Crowley mumbled, squirming a little in the angel's arms, but Aziraphale only hushed him again, stroking a hand over his shoulder and holding him close.
"It's morning," he murmured — Aziraphale usually stayed up and read throughout the night, while Crowley slept curled into his side — "but worry not, my love. I'm perfectly content to hold you for as long as you want." He let out a soft, kind chuckle. "I can tell you're still sleepy, love."
Crowley grumbled a little at the description, even with how apt it was, but despite his protests, he allowed himself after a few moments to relax once more in Aziraphale's arms, limbs going lax and head drooping against the angel's shoulder. Aziraphale hummed lovingly, and pressed a soft, adoring kiss to Crowley's brow, gentle and reverent.
"Rest, my dear Crowley," he murmured. "Dream of whatever you love most."
"Don't gotta dream," Crowley mumbled in response, cracking open one eye halfway and smiling crookedly up at Aziraphale, who was looking down at him with such love that it made his chest ache. "I already got you, ang'l."
"Oh, my darling." Aziraphale's voice was thick with joy, eyes crinkled with adoration around the edges as he held Crowley impossibly closer. "My darling, dearest Crowley . . . oh, how I love you."
"Mm," Crowley hummed, swallowing tightly; even still, his voice cracked with emotion when he finally spoke, speech slightly slurred as he slipped back into sleep. "L've you too, angel."
And as he drifted back off underneath the filtered light of the sun of the morning, the last thing he felt was another kiss pressed along his brow -- sending love surging through his chest, so much that his heart felt as if it could burst, with the utterly overwhelming joy of being loved by his angel.
