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The sun had risen above Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death enough to shine in the windows in Aziraphale’s little sectioned-off office onto the sofa beside the till. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem, but on this particular morning, the couch was occupied.
Crowley lay across it, shoes off, coat folded on the coffee table and his hand over his eyes. He rolled over to face the back of the sofa with a grumble. “Oi! Someone turn that thing off for now. I need a few more hours.”
He clicked his fingers and the shade came down, plunging the couch back into darkness.
“How long do you plan on living on my sofa?”
Aziraphale’s voice echoed from above. He looked down through the opening between floors, his hands resting on the railing. While Crowley snored on the sofa below, he had spent the night rearranging the collection on the upper floor so as not to disturb the demon.
“Not long. I just needed a few night’s rest is all,” said Crowley, his voice muffled because he did not bother looking up from the back cushions he now faced.
“You’ve been asleep for three days.” Aziraphale came downstairs, his well-worn brogues clanging on the iron stairs. “I think that’s enough, unless you’re going to head back to your own flat to sleep your life away.”
“Ugh.” Uninterested in actually getting up, Crowley pulled the blanket over his head.
“You’re hopeless,” said Aziraphale, and went about his usual morning routine of making some tea in the kitchenette before heading out to buy a newspaper and a couple of pastries at the bakery down the way.
~*~*~
“Let’s get out for a while,” said Aziraphale, after a busy morning of reading the news and checking in a new shipment of second-hand books that needed homes among his shelves. “You’re not going to spend the rest of your existence lazing about on my sofa.”
“But it’s the Sabbath. You’re not supposed to do anything on the Sabbath.” Crowley had not moved unless you counted rolling over on his back once the sun no longer shone through the window.
“And you’re not Jewish.” Aziraphale examined an old encyclopedia from the new shipment with a squint. The volume might require a bit of work on the binding, but otherwise, it was in good condition for its age
“Good people, the Jews…friendly, and they never mind when I ask questions,” said Crowley. “Which is more than I can say for some religions I’ve encountered over the millennia. Remember the Servants of the Eternal Oracle? They tried to execute me for pointing out a typo in their religious texts and asking if that was supposed to be there.”
“Yes, I do remember. When you disappeared out of your locked cell, they were absolutely certain they were dealing with The Evil One. It caused quite a ruckus. They burned the entire village to the ground, then crossed the Euphrates River to rebuild because The Evil One couldn’t swim.”
“Well, when your religion’s adversary is nothing more than a giant cat…”
The high whine of an engine vibrated through the bookshop, causing Crowley to wince painfully. The Bentley, who had spent most of the past week parked motionless over the road by Nina’s coffee shop, was again voicing her complaints.
Aziraphale walked over, picked up Crowley’s coat and unceremoniously tossed it onto his head. “I've had it. We’re going out for a spell, if only because your presence here is starting to irritate me, and I’m not going to listen to your car complain for another day.”
Grudgingly, Crowley plucked the coat off his head and slid his arms into it. Aziraphale was not going to take no for an answer, the Bentley would just keep whining until the neighbours came knocking to bitch about it. He would get no peace until he moved his arse off the sofa.
“Fine, but I’m not spending all day out.”
~*~*~
They crossed the road to where the Bentley was parked in front of Nina’s coffee shop, Crowley gallantly opening the passenger door for Aziraphale, who slid in with a small gasp.
“Why, thank you, Bentley! They’re lovely..." He paused as she conversed with him in her own little way in his mind. “Yes, he did need to get off the sofa, didn’t he? But really, you didn’t have to get me a gift… Well, I am glad to know you appreciate me. I appreciate our friendship, too.”
He patted the dashboard in front of him lovingly.
Crowley paused, a wrinkle of confusion forming above the bridge of his long nose. He shut the door and walked around the car to the driver’s side. The Bentley rattled loudly, this time physically replying to Aziraphale.
“What are lovely?” he asked after he slid into the seat and started the Bentley.
Beaming from ear to ear, Aziraphale held up a bouquet of blue hydrangeas, bright yellow and pink roses, peach snapdragons and purple lisianthus wrapped in cellophane printed to look like lace. He smelled a rose, humming in delight.
Crowley felt a self-satisfied jab at his mind, as real as if someone had poked him in the arm. “I see somebody appreciates you getting my arse off the sofa.” He glared hard at the dashboard.
You little minx, he thought to his car. I can be romantic, too, you know.
She replied by sending him a feeling of doubt, still overlaid with the smugness she felt at Aziraphale’s delight over the flowers.
“Since I owe you a lunch, how about the Ritz?”
Aziraphale lit up even more, a feat Crowley didn't think possible. “That would be wonderful.”
Hah, said Crowley to the Bentley as they pulled away from the kerb.
~*~*~
“Lunch was wonderful,” said Aziraphale after they returned to the bookshop to kiss on the sofa.
Aziraphale had wrapped himself around Crowley, sitting in the demon’s lap with his hands around Crowley’s neck. Crowley held the angel around the waist, Aziraphale straddling Crowley’s thighs. Their waistcoats lay on the cushion beside them. Crowley’s sunglasses sat on the coffee table, half covered by Aziraphale’s loose bow tie.
“You deserve a little appreciation of your own, my dear,” continued Aziraphale, his eyes sparkling.
He leaned in to kiss Crowley again, passionately and fully on the lips, his hands reaching up to stroke Crowley’s short red hair. The love that radiated from his angel with that kiss about knocked Crowley over. He trembled under such love, but determination stopped his quivering as he resolved to return it with every ounce of his own love he had to give.
They were bathed in each other’s adoration, the love swirling around them invisibly, yet sparkling with life in Crowley’s mind’s eyes. It was like being caught up in the world’s most gentle tornado.
He could have stayed like this forever. But Aziraphale ended the kiss, pulling back enough to focus his eyes on Crowley’s face and broke into the most wonderful smile Crowley had ever seen. And it was all for him, this happiness.
“I love you, Aziraphale.”
“I love you, too, Crowley. And you, as well, Miss Bentley. I adore the bouquet.”
And Crowley could feel the Bentley’s pleased response in the back of his mind, her thoughts forming an image of a thumbs-up along with the bouquet she somehow managed to acquire and leave on Aziraphale’s seat. He knew his angel received the same thing from her. Crowley pulled Aziraphale into a hug so he could discreetly roll his eyes.
“I see she’s happy you like them.”
Fine. You win, he thought at the Bentley. But I get to reap the rewards. Now, get out of my head.
What they were going to do next didn’t need an audience.