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A warm fire in a cosy house, while outside the cold breeze of autumn, without the usual noises of the London city that Crowley was used to, but rather in quiet silence and sounds of nature. It was the ultimate comfort for almost every human being, yet he was sure that loneliness would find a way to knock on his door even in such a comfortable place, but...
He appeared in the living room and a little smile, the one he could not hide, appeared on his face and knew that loneliness would not knock so easily. On the white sofa in front of the small window, there was Aziraphale the lamp on and a book in his hands.
The room was quite small though the cottage was comfortable: a bedroom for them, a bathroom, a room where Crowley exhibited his plants, and another where the angel kept most of the books—even if the living room was full of them.
Everywhere you looked, you could felt the change of style and colour, a brown and white room in contrast to the black and red furniture. There were more minimal rooms, like their bedroom but where some books appeared (they were everywhere and secretly the demon liked it) and a large and soft bed with a sheet mixed the darker and lighter colours. And there were rooms where comfort reigned, like the living room with two soft white sofas in front of each other and two black armchairs next to these. Arts in the walls and chandeliers here and there, and the fireplace contrasted the warm wood interior of the cottage, with a modern black marble.
Perfect like that, it was their personalities mixing and living together perfectly— or at least that was the idea, several times they had discussed the colour of rooms or furniture.
And yet the demon would do every damn thing again, endure every fight and little pout of his angel because he was with him.
Finally, for fuck’s sake!
He had thought about in euphoria when he had only seen him a few days ago, living in that cottage and getting used to it instantly, as if they had always lived together.
And now he was still looking at him, not daring to make any sudden movement, to be able to observe his blue eyes amazed or by reading, swiping on the pages, and his pupils dilate in a particularly interesting part, under the glasses he wore— or the way he just bit his lower lip when something was bothering him. Crowley wouldn’t disturb him for anything in the world and stayed still, simply enjoying his sight.
I’ll probably have the dumbest face it ever created!
Yet he could not stop looking at him, admiring him, feeling his heart always beating so fast just doing it, quietly contemplating that wonderful being who lived with him.
It was only when he saw him stop reading to rest his eyes, that the demon decided to make his appearance and the angel’s face lit up as if the fire of the fireplace was in his face.
“Hello my dear, have you found the revitalizing for Daisy?”
Crowley rolled his eyes and nodded. Daisy was nothing less than his little Lampranthus plant, that Aziraphale had chosen to name it like that— even if Crowley continued to argue about it, there were things that could not be removed from the head of a stubborn angel.
The plant or she, as Aziraphale would have said, had decided to get sick, and to avoid unnecessary miracles and be detected, the demon had decided to use more traditional manners.
“Uhm, I already put on her.”
“Oh, Wonderful! The little one really needed it.”
The demon made a gesture of indifference with his hand.
“She just has to get over it quickly! I don’t want her to infect the others or I will be... angry.”
Aziraphale placed his glasses on his nose and smiled at him.
“I’m sure it won’t be necessary, dear.”
Crowley then decided to sit next to him on the couch, as close as possible, taking advantage of the contact the angel had given him—their shoulders touching or simply the closeness to each other. There had been a time when the demon, after his refusal, had kept his distance, waiting only for his word or hint and after the thwarted apocalypse, there had been more and more occasions when their shoulders touched. Or more explicitly, the angel rested a hand on his while he was busy telling him something exciting, that made his eyes shine like blue sapphires from which it was impossible for the demon to look away. The strongest signal, however, was when he proposed to move in together because Aziraphale responded with exalted enthusiasm and embraced him with the same energy.
The demon was stunned by that affection and initially, he did not know how to react. The only thing certain was he blushed and it was that led him to embrace him too, to hide his face in the angel’s neck.
“What are you reading?”
He stares at the cover seems ancient, in soft colors, typically for him.
“Pride and prejudice, it’s a perfect story for where we are now!”
“I bet it’s one of the fluffy things you like to read.”
He said it in a bored tone and saw Aziraphale’s cheeks swell as they often did when he was irritated, actually, it was the only reason the demon was pricking him—He was so adorable when his lips took the shape of a small heart and his eyebrows curled.
“In fact, the love story is more marginal than you think. It is a book that denounces the society of the Georgian era, analyzes the psychology of the characters and their feelings, that are so current for this age either.”
Aziraphale talked about it again with great passion, and although the demon did not read or at least—he did not read often and certainly not books of that kind— he listened to him, he would always listen to him on anything, he could do it for hours.
And of course, there was one more component, to be able to look at his face lightened when he was interested in something, his blue eyes flowing over the book, caressing him like a little puppy, and the smiles he couldn’t hide while talking about it... or his adorable irritation when the demon decided to tease him, just a little bit.
“And then I meant, it’s perfect because we are in a cottage in the south downs cottage in England! Either you read the Bronte sisters or Austen.”
“Okay, okay.”
The demon yawned, and not because he was bored by what the angel was saying but because he was really tired, and it was certainly not because Crowley had spent several nights in white staring at the ceiling of his room, anxious to ask Aziraphale to share a house—no, of course, no, absolutely not! It was probably because of the moving with the limited use of miracles at their disposal, getting more tiring.
On the other hand, they had to do it to avoid the radar of their old sides.
“Oh my dear, but you are so sleepy”
Suddenly he heard him close the book and the angel’s hand caressed his cheek for a few moments, the demon raised his eyes and met two blue eyes staring at him with softness.
“These have been busy days, and you need to rest.”
Crowley lowered his gaze on their shoulders touching.
“Naah, a few more minutes.”
A few moments of silence passed, and the demon thought that he had resumed reading, but in reality, when he looked at him, he saw that Aziraphale was looking at him with a slight redness in his cheeks... had he caught something?
Of course, fool of a demon! He is so clever and you are so insanely and stupidly sentimental.
“Perhaps you could rest here, with me.”
“What is...”
Aziraphale grabbed him so abruptly that Crowley blinked and a small hissing popped out of his lips, but when he felt his redhead resting in the other’s legs, he let him did it.
“Ok, like this, my dear.”
And he realized he...even liked it.
The demon squinted leaving his heart beating fast, not hiding in any way how his body relaxed.
Then the angel began to caress his hair unsure, a light touch but so beautiful and sweet that Crowley missed a little cry of satisfaction—and even if he did not saw it, he knew that Aziraphale was smiling.
His caress became more convinced and slowly, Crowley abandoned himself to that rhythmic touch closing his eyes and getting lost between his fingers, starting to relax... maybe getting lost in a sleep.
“I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love—I love—I love you. I never wish to be parted from you” *
Perhaps he had fallen asleep for a few moments, but he was very happy to hear the angel suddenly read those words from the book. Whispering to him, while again with the most delicate of caresses, he brushed his hair.
A small smile painted on Crowley’s face while he was still pretending to sleep... he would have slept forever if that was the prize.
There was no need between them for such confession, and yet the heart of the demon beat hard to hear those words from the angel’s lips, words of love for them. Inside himself wondered if one day, as much as it was not necessary, he did not require it, and he should not even have thought of it... Crowley could not help but wonder if similar words would be said by Aziraphale someday while he would look at him.
-*quote Pride and Prejudice but from the film and, if I'm not mistaken, this scene isn't in the book, but this words are so Aziracrow, I couldn't help but put them
-The living room in the story
