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Winter in the South Downs was shit.
Everything was cold, wet, the sky was grey and the sun wasn’t out for more than five hours a day. All in all, it was awful; and it was also the perfect weather for the demon Crowley to have one of his famous two months-long naps, with the occasional stir to get up and phone his angel, before going back in a peaceful, thoughtless slumber. And, let’s be real, if things weren’t the way they were, he probably would have done just that.
Thankfully, his life was not the way it used to be, and he now had more than enough reasons to stay awake for as long as his cold-blooded body would allow him to (which meant roughly ten hours a day, way more than the amount of time he would normally bother to stay conscious.)
It was a sudden cool breeze that woke him up that day. It didn’t last more than three seconds - the time needed for Aziraphale to get up and gather the blankets back upon his beloved- but it was enough : his husband loved to nap, but he had always been a light sleeper. He mumbled, and shifted to face Aziraphale, who was sitting on the edge of their (their!) bed, staying still in hopes of allowing his husband to go back to sleep. Which didn’t mean that he wasn’t overcome with joy at the sight of him opening his eyes, and cracking a sleepy smile.
Forgetting his idea of getting a cup of tea, he layed back down on top of the covers, hand on Crowley’s hip. Said Crowley, still only half awake, immediately rolled closer, dropping an arm over his love, burying his nose in the crock of his neck and breathing in loudly, in a way that was, according to the angel, halfway between comical and insanely cute. He nuzzled closer, multiplying points of contacts as much as he could giving that the blankets were sort of blocking the way. Aziraphale felt the demon’s smile against his neck, undoubtedly happy with the warmth he was getting. He ran a hand through the crimson hair in front of him, slowly massaging the scalp.
“Hello dearest.
-mmph.” Crowley, being as eloquent as he ever was in the morning, chose, rather than using words, to tighten his grip around his angel, with a content sigh. Aziraphale knew how winter affected him : they had shared three of those in the cottage since the events of the Second Coming (after which there had been a lot of tears, kisses, and, finally finally, some real communication).
This one was their fourth, and, everytime, Crowley's snake side hated it. He would spend it going outside as little as possible, which basically meant only to take care of their garden. (again, their garden. What an amazing thought.) He’d spent the rest of his time sleeping, cooking, cuddling Aziraphale, and complaining about the dreadful weather. The angel knew the demon's hatred for this time of the year, but he couldn’t help to love how needy he became. Simply put, there was never a moment when he didn’t have his husband close. And he loved every second of it. But the mornings spent like this were the angel’s favourite aspect of their new life : as a principality; he was naturally radiating with warmth, which was exactly what was needed.
Sometimes, they would spend hours just cuddling, both never really waking up (it had taken a bit of time for Aziraphale to try sleeping. At first, he would join his husband in bed with a stack of books, and spend the night alternating between reading and admiring the sleeping form in front of him. When he did try it, he found that his favourite moment was not the time spent sleeping; but rather the in-between, the few minutes spent not being fully awake, and only having room for thoughts about how very loved he felt.)
Aziraphale was brought back to reality by a muffled sound coming from the man-shaped being pressed against him. He absent mindedly kissed the top of his husband's head before realising that he had no idea what had just been said.
“What was that darling?” Another noise, and a slow shift of his demon when he understood that he couldn’t actually speak if his mouth was busy giving lazy kisses along the angel neck and chin. (Not that Aziraphale was complaining, far from that. But he also needed his partner to know that he could voice his needs and thoughts. It was something they had both been working on for a long time (about six hundred years.). So Crowley reluctantly moved away, choosing instead to look at him, cheeks kind of flushed.
“It's stupid, really. I just… Don't like you on top of the covers like that. I'd like it if you could come closer. If you're okay with it obviously. But right now, you're, uh… Too far for a proper cuddle.”
Aziraphale could swear he heard his heart flutter at those words. Unable to repress the tender smile that was now spreading on his face, he moved closer to kiss his husband (which made him think : why exactly did he wait this long to do that in the first place ?) before moving away for only a few seconds, in order to join his husband under the covers (he tried to be as quick as possible, as to not give his partner the cold feeling of unease he had already felt earlier. This, obviously, didn’t stop said husband from whining when the warmth of his companion left him. All ideas of complaints thankfully abandoned him once he was secured in his angel’s arms, without any sheets to block the way. For the world’s sake, this truly was heaven, the real one, not whatever fucked up thing was going on Upstairs.)
Crowley’s corporation was burning : courtesy of the hours spent covered in way more blankets than what a physical body needed to. But Aziraphale wouldn't have it any other way, for he was finally skin to skin with his husband, to indulge in, as he so eloquently put it, “a proper cuddle.”
They stayed like this for a little while, silently enjoying the ineffable confort that came with the press of their bodies together, Aziraphale rubbing the demon’s back, a demon that was currently looking particularly relaxed, the only indication that he hadn’t gone back to sleep being the occasional hums, and, of course, the undying smile on his lips. In his opinion, there was no better way of spending a freezing winter morning. Except for one little thing.
He moved enough to attract Aziraphale attention. Had it been anyone else, the angel would probably have been annoyed at the interruption of his train of thoughts. But seeing Crowley like this, at ease…His dear boy deserved it. This, and so, so much more.
There was another movement, a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, and the demon talked again :
“I think I want to take a bath.” The angel sighed in answer, holding his beloved even closer, if that was possible; they were now facing again, breathing in each other's mouth, forehead pressed together. He didn’t want this to stop; in fact, he would be happy to stay here, warm against the love of his life, their legs tangled together, listening to both their heartbeat, for eternity. But then again, who was he to refuse a request from the most precious of all beings ?
The sun had started to rise since the moment Crowley woke up, and when his angel left the bed to run him a bath, he had to drop an arm over his eyes to block the light. He felt sleepy again, and his body was threatening to give him up to Morpheus. Or Hypnos, or another sleep-linked deity. That certainly wouldn’t do. He stirred, taking a few seconds to appreciate for the last time the softness of their bed, and got up, repressing a groan at the cold wood floor against his bare feets, before heading to their kitchen.
He knew how Aziraphale liked his tea. Actually he felt like he had always known everything Aziraphale-related, as if a portion of his brain was dedicated to pleasing his angel. (It was the case. The Almighty, who knew how things would go between them, had made sure of it.) He also knew, approximately, how long the angel would take to get his bath ready, and, if his estimations were correct, he would manage to have the cup ready for when he’d be back; from there, all he would have to do was suggesting that he drunk it in the bathroom with him, and then, he’d join him in the water. He could also just ask him; but where was the fun in that ?
Seconds later, the tea was ready, and he was welcomed in the bathroom by an angel really happy to finally have his cup of tea. The water was way too hot for any human to even survive it, but Crowley's snake side was shaking excitedly in anticipation. He got into the water with a low moan, closing his eyes and fully immersing. This was almost a good enough reason to like winter.
When he came up for breath, something caught his eyes. The angel had apparently taken the time to light up scented candles, and to miracle him a cup of coffee. He was looking at him expectantly, waiting perhaps for a reaction. Crowley opened his mouth, his forked tongue tasting the air. It smelled amazing. The candles smelled like apples, so did the tea, and he had put in the water a citrus flavoured body lotion. It smelled like spring. The demon smiled, eyeing his partner :
“Joining me angel ?” Rather than answering, Aziraphale smiled, and made his way into the water, sucking in a breath at the almost boiling water.
Once he was in, he took his time to cup the demon's cheek in his palm, kissing him with a sweetness that was almost unbearable. His lips tasted like tea, and Crowley practically melted into him. Far too soon, they parted.
“Turn around for me please, love.” Crowley almost blushed at the nickname : he was certain he’d never get used to it. He complied nonetheless, and sat in between the angel legs, back pressed against the soft curves of his angel. He heard the lotion bottle opening, and soon felt careful hands against his skin, washing him with such tenderness he could’ve cried. Instead, he took the cup of coffee on the side of the bathtub, and took a sip. It was positively the best coffee he ever had, and that had nothing to do with the fact that he was at the same time cuddling his angel, thank-you-very-much.
He leaned back, and closed his eyes, threatening to doze off again. He couldn’t really think of anything, except of course the fact that he was here, that this was real, and that the angel was his.
He heard a soft chuckle behind him, and tilted his head back.
“What ?” That got him another laugh. He smiled, something that was now an instinctive reaction whenever Aziraphale was visibly happy. But still, he was confused. He was about to ask again, but he didn’t have time to :
“Sorry love, it’s just…I’m pretty sure that you were purring just now.”
Wait what.
He tried his best to hide his blush, he really did. But it was no use. He didn’t even know he could physically purr ten seconds ago. Guess a good night of sleep and a bath (and, yes, also a loving angel) could really change someone.
“Nah, that wasn’t me. Must’ve been…the air conditioning.” Yep, his demonic credibility was definitely gone. Not that it ever actually existed, especially when it came to Aziraphale. The angel hummed in reply, and Crowley could hear his amused smile.
“Yes, of course, it must be the air conditioning, what else ? We might have to call someone to fix that up.
-Yup, big deal, that. Wouldn’t want to try to miracle the problem away and create an even bigger one.”’ They fell silent for a few seconds; before bursting into laughter. Crowley turned around, interrupting his angel work of washing him, to give him a deep, wet and coffee flavoured kiss. God, how he loved kissing him; especially now that they were free : he knew for sure that they would never share another kiss that wasn’t full of warmth and promises, like their first ever one was. Now, everything was all hope, joy, and love. Even in the middle of winter. And Crowley was so grateful, and he tried his best to show it in all the ways he could. But what felt even better was the fact that now, he was free to actually say it. And he’d be damned if he didn’t spend the rest of his existence doing just that.
“I love you angel.”
Outside, the sun was fully risen, and, on the roof of their cottage, a goldfinch settled down, announcing the first evidence of spring.