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Aziraphale could have sworn he only closed his eyes for a moment. But as he groggily opened his eyes to light peeking through the linen curtains, he became aware that he must have nodded off.
It took him a handful of minutes to regain his bearings, not as accustomed to waking up as Crowley was. How anyone could be so fond of sleep once they experienced this—the unbelievably disoriented feeling, paired with an odd but not altogether unpleasant heaviness that bogged him to the mattress, and… was that drool? Good Lord, how embarrassing—was beyond him.
He could certainly understand where the term sleep drunk came from now, and why Crowley relied so heavily on a mug—or three—of coffee before even thinking of trying to hold a conversation that didn’t consist solely of tired grunts.
Personally, Aziraphale could go for a strong cup of black tea, perhaps a nice Earl Grey or Oolong. But that would require leaving the warm confines of Crowley’s arms, and Aziraphale didn’t want that. If anything, having Crowley tucked so close behind him made the experience tolerable.
So instead, he spent a while simply regarding the yellow walls of their bedroom through half-lidded eyes, drifting in a sleepy haze, before reaching up to pluck the crooked glasses from his nose. He must have fallen asleep while reading, though there wasn’t a book splayed open across his chest.
But there was, however, a book sitting on Crowley’s nightstand.
Heart wrenching with a sudden burst of affection, Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at the mundane rescue. Crowley really was such a dear, no matter how often he denied it.
With a stretch that accidentally dislodged Crowley from his side, he moved to place his glasses on a nearby bookshelf. But before he could actually do so, the arms wrapped around his middle tightened, and an unintelligible protest was grumbled into the shoulder of his nightshirt.
Aziraphale was then pulled back toward the center of the bed, as Crowley did his best to curl around him until every available inch of their corporations were touching. The ever present scales near the demon’s ankles and feet, Aziraphale was pleased to note, were smooth as silk against his calves.
After settling, Aziraphale turned his head to gaze at his beloved’s sleeping face, and was momentarily surprised to meet a pair of unblinking snake eyes staring right back at him.
While that might have certainly been a terrifying sight for some, Aziraphale was unfazed by it. After all, Crowley had fallen asleep with his eyes open often enough that it became expected.
And so, he pulled Crowley’s sleep mask down from where it had gotten caught in his hair, then pressed himself back into his demon’s embrace, and went in for another well deserved nap.
They would have to get up eventually, especially if they wanted to uphold their dinner reservation. But for now, staying in bed with Crowley sounded like a wonderful way to spend the day.