Work Text:
They made it. Armageddon had been stopped, no one had been harmed. Now, several weeks later, a certain angel and a grumpy demon still hadn't adjusted to the quieter times.
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The rain pattered against the bookstore's windows, fogged up by the warm air inside. Outside, it was long past night; a cool breeze, heralding winter, stirred scraps of paper on the street, making late-night strollers shiver and bury their hands in their pockets.
The only thing undisturbed by the unpleasant weather was the moon, which appeared in all its round glory in the sky and peered into the shop, a silent observer, sharing in the togetherness of the supernatural beings sitting on the sofa inside.
Aziraphale leafed through a book, chuckling softly every time he came across a particularly amusing passage. The demon next to him swirled the whiskey in his glass, having just taken a sip of the amber liquid.
He much preferred watching the bookseller, whose eyes gleamed as they glued themselves to the pages, a faint smile occasionally creeping across his soft features. The golden light from the ceiling lamp made his white-blond hair glow like a halo and caught in his aquamarine eyes. He could look at him forever.
Aziraphale had just reached a very romantic ball scene when Crowley's head lolled to the side and his glass fell from his hand. The clink of the glass and the splash of alcohol against his clothes made the demon jump and sleepily rub his red-rimmed eyes.
"Sorry, angel," he mumbled, performing a miracle that sent the drink back into the glass and the glass back onto the table. He yawned, but forced himself to keep his eyes open and straightened his posture.
"Oh, no! You don't have to stay awake, just grab a blanket and close your eyes for a while." He gave the exhausted demon a loving smile and handed him a gray wool blanket.
Hesitantly, he took it and placed it in his lap. "It's okay, I'm not that tired. Besides, I'm not particularly good company when I'm asleep."
"Nonsense dear, you haven't slept properly since Armageddon. I can see you can barely see straight. Besides, I like spending time with you, whether you're awake or not doesn't matter."
With rosy cheeks and struggling with himself, Crowley tugged at his sleeve. The angel sighed and closed his book: "I understand it's difficult to relax after all this adventurous times. How about you just lie down for a while and close your eyes? I'll keep watch for a while, and if anything happens, I'll wake you up immediately, of course."
Crowley nodded hesitantly, draped himself so that his long limbs fit on the sofa, and pulled the blanket over himself. "Better?" he teased tiredly.
"Perfect, my dear. Would you like me to read something to you?" He nodded almost shyly, and Aziraphale continued reading where he had left off in a calm voice.
After less than two chapters, the demon's head had sunk onto the arm of the sofa, and all tension had left his body. Smiling gently, Aziraphale pushed a strand of the demon's hair away from his face, shimmering red-gold in the light.
He adjusted the blanket and couldn't help but notice that the flushed cheeks, the relaxed expression, and the slightly parted lips had something almost angelic about them.
It seemed rude to him to watch his friend sleep, so he smiled softly and opened his book again.