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Crowley lay tensely on the large double bed, his body and face turned toward the wall. This was the third night he’d lain awake since Aziraphale had offered to let him stay at his place instead of sleeping in his car. Or rather he had insisted on it. As soon as the angel had found out that Crowley had been living and sleeping in his car for months, he did everything he could to convince the demon to temporarily “move in” to his bookshop.
“That’s what friends are for,” he had said.The demon knew there was no point in resisting for long, so he accepted the offer.
What he didn’t know was that they would be sharing a bed.
Of course, either of them could have easily miracled another bed – both were perfectly capable of that. But the angel had already been so immersed in his preparations and was already putting on covers on a pillow and blanket for the demon, Crowley didn't dare disturb his planning.
Well, he had said something, but it didn't seem to bother Aziraphale. He recalled the situation in his mind:
“So... we’ll be sharing your bed...?”
The angel was in a good mood, he had just picked out bedsheets for the demon. He was smiling nearly the whole time. Even when Crowley asked, the smile didn’t vanish — though a touch of confusion did appear on his face.
“Yes, I mean, technically it is my bed, but... it’s big enough for two, and I don’t mind sharing it with my... well, you. Unless... you mind?”
Now he looked a bit unsure, and Crowley honestly just wanted to see that smile return to Aziraphale’s face. Besides, he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of sharing a bed with his angel– it just felt like a big leap in their relationship. Also, he didn’t want to be rude.
“Oh no no, 's good, just wanted to make sure.”
The angel beamed at him again, delighted to be able to help his friend, and returned to his preparations, happily chattering away. The only problem was that Crowley had never shared a bed with anyone before. Being that vulnerable in front of someone was unfamiliar to him — strange, even. And on top of that, it was his angel he was sharing the bed with, who already made his heart beat faster whenever he was near and made his head feel all fuzzy.
That first night, he’d lain awake the entire time, staring at the wall. He hadn’t dared to turn toward Aziraphale. In the morning, he claimed he’d slept well. He didn’t want to burden the angel, and seeing Aziraphale happy made him happy too. And every time the angel could help someone, he was happy. However that worked – Crowley hadn’t quite figured it out yet.
The second night, it was the same issue. Only this time, Crowley felt how tired he was. His eyes hurt and he tried closing them but he just couldn't fall asleep out of nervousness. Eventually, he got up quietly, went to his Bentley, and slept for a few hours before waking up extra early, sneaking back into the bookshop, and returning to Aziraphale’s bed. When the angel asked how he had slept, he answered, “Even better than last night.”
That wasn’t exactly a lie. He just left out that he hadn’t slept at all the night before...
It was the third night now and Crowley found himself in the same situation as before. Sneaking out to sleep in his car every night was risky—Aziraphale would notice eventually, and Crowley didn’t want to do that to his friend. For a brief moment, he considered telling the angel about his problem - of course only the part of it being new and strange to him to sleep in someone else's presence and be vulnerable - not the love part - but he quickly dismissed the idea either way.
He was just in the middle of thinking up possible excuses to get out of the situation without hurting his angel when suddenly, he felt a hand on his lower back — and froze.
What the hell was going on?
Since he was facing the wall, he couldn’t see what the angel was doing, so he tried to listen. But... all he could hear was Aziraphale’s steady breathing, just like before. The angel must have moved in his sleep. That calmed Crowley a bit, and he exhaled – something he’d apparently forgotten to do for several seconds.
He tried to move his head slightly to glance behind him, which of course didn’t work. The demon cursed under his breath. After a few more moments of hesitation, he slowly shifted his position a little and gradually turned his body so he was facing Aziraphale. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but it was hard to be silent when lying on a mattress under an overly fluffy down duvet...
As he had suspected, Aziraphale must have moved in his sleep. He lay on his side, relatively close to Crowley’s side of the bed, his upper body turned slightly toward him. One arm rested in front of his face while the other lay relaxed and half-extended. Crowley looked at the angel’s face. Thanks to his snake eyes, he could see well in the dark. The angel’s face was deeply relaxed, his mouth slightly open, breathing rhythmically and quietly. He looked peaceful. The demon couldn't help but smile a little. He had probably never seen his angel so relaxed before. Aziraphale was always a little tense. And little was probably an understatement. He was pretty much stressed all the time from either his own or other's expectations of him.
Crowley’s gaze wandered back to the hand that had just touched him. The back of the hand faced upward, fingers gently curled. A thought crept into his mind: How much he would love to hold the angel’s hand right now...
He quickly tried to dismiss the thought and actually shook his head slightly. His eyes wandered back to Aziraphale’s face. He couldn’t help but study it again—every detail, every feature. He rarely got the chance to look at his angel this long without it getting awkward. Honestly, Crowley could do this forever. Just spending hours and hours admiring Aziraphale’s face.
He looked back to Aziraphale’s hand. Crowley reached out his own hand slightly, but hesitated and put it back down on the mattress – though closer to Aziraphale than before. The demon glanced back and forth between the angel’s face and his hand, making sure he was really asleep. Then he raised his hand again and moved it toward Aziraphale’s. He brushed the back of the angel’s fingers with his fingertips before pulling his hand back. He felt his heart pounding faster.
He’d held Aziraphale’s hand a few times before —when they had stopped Armageddon, when they had been on the bus to London, when they swapped back their appearances... and yet each time, it felt like his heart would pound out of his chest.
He reached his hand out once more and gently wrapped it around Aziraphale’s. The angel's fingers were so soft — it was almost like they mirrored his character: gentle and kind...
Suddenly, Crowley felt the other celestial's fingers move. The demon froze once again.
Aziraphale’s hand turned and gently held onto Crowley’s. Crowley glanced up at the angel’s face in surprise. His heart was racing at this point. Aziraphale’s eyes were only slightly open. He gave Crowley a tired smile before closing them again.
The demon continued to look at the angel’s face in disbelief at what had just happened. Then he glanced down at their hands that were now entwined. They were holding hands. Just like that. No occasion.
He felt himself blushing. For a moment, he thought he might actually explode—right here, in this very moment.
He kept watching his angel in awe until, finally, his racing heartbeat began to slow. Crowley exhaled and shifted his gaze back down at their hands. Then, finally, he smiled a little. He spent the next while – he couldn’t tell if it was minutes or hours – watching the angel and smiling to himself from time to time until eventually he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up the next morning, their hands were still touching, though they had both loosened their grip in their sleep. The rest of the day went surprisingly normal, though Crowley felt a bit dazed—but in a good way. The angel behaved entirely as usual, as if their late-night hand holding had been the most normal thing in the world. (Though honestly, it might have been, since he didn't know how humans worked when it came to that.)
That evening, Crowley felt nervous as the two of them went to bed. He didn’t know how things would go now. Whether there was a chance to repeat what had happened the night before—or if they would just pretend it had never happened.
He lay on his back, fidgeting with his fingers. The angel beside him still had a light on and was reading, his glasses perched on his nose. He now glanced over at Crowley, who was clearly acting strangely.
“My dear, would you like me to turn off the light?”
Crowley, startled from his thoughts, blinked a few times and turned his head slightly toward the angel.
“Hm?”
“Do you want me to turn off the light?”
Crowley stared past the angel, processing what had just been asked before responding.
“Oh—no, uh, no need. All good.”
The angel smiled briefly before returning to his book, clearly a little puzzled. Crowley stared back at the ceiling, lost in thought.
Several minutes later, the demon heard Aziraphale close his book and place it on the nightstand, followed by his reading glasses.
“Well then... good night.”
“G'night,” Crowley replied a few moments later.
With a little “click,” the light went out. Crowley heard the rustling of the covers. To his surprise, the angel seemed to be moving closer to him. He turned his head slightly toward him. Aziraphale's eyes were already on him.
What the...?
After a few seconds, Aziraphale slightly moved his arm and laid his hand out in front of him. It seemed like an offering – but Crowley wasn’t entirely sure. Hesitantly, he rolled onto his side and reached out his hand. He slowly moved it toward the angel and stopped when his hand hovered over Aziraphale’s. He looked from the angel’s hand to his face, questioningly. Aziraphale blinked and gave him a soft smile. That was it. The confirmation. Or at least he hoped it was, and that he wasn’t completely misreading Aziraphale’s expression and gesture.
Crowley once more looked back and forth between the smile and the hand before he finally took it. The angel's hand almost instantly closed around his. It felt warm, and soft, and inviting... Immediately, Crowley felt a kind of relief. No awkward misinterpretation on his part that would haunt him for the next century. The angel really wanted to hold his hand again.
“Sleep well,” the angel said quietly, before closing his eyes and nestling into his pillow.
“You too...” Crowley replied, though so quietly he wasn’t sure if the angel even heard him.
The way their hands were locked felt even more intimate, more certain than the night before. And it kind of felt as if Aziraphale’s calmness was slowly transferring onto him through the physical connection. Because Crowley started to feel more at peace, safer, in a way he couldn’t explain. He closed his eyes and took note of the butterflies in his stomach. Is this what humans felt when they said they were in love? It was hard for him to believe such strong feelings were meant for humans, while celestial beings would in most cases never get to experience this. It was something he never would have believed—if he weren’t experiencing it himself.
Crowley woke up the next morning, confused about how and when he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t even noticed. And he felt more rested than he had on all the previous days combined. Once again, their grip had loosened during the night, but their hands still lightly touched.
Next to him, his angel also seemed to be waking. He took a deep breath and moved slightly before opening his eyes and meeting Crowley’s.
This time it was Crowley who spoke first: “Mornin'.”
“Good morning, my dear,” Aziraphale replied, his voice a little raspy.
Crowley couldn’t help but smile, though Aziraphale didn’t see it, as he had to yawn and covered his mouth with his other hand. Then he gently pulled back the hand Crowley’s had been resting on, saying, “Let’s get up.”
That day went by like any other in the bookshop, except that Crowley, having had much more sleep, felt much more alive—something Aziraphale also seemed to notice. At one point, he asked, “You slept quite well, didn’t you?” and Crowley answered, “Oh yeah, definitely.”
That evening, when the demon tried to initiate bedtime with a “I’m really tired, shall we call it a night?”—hoping to get as much time as possible holding the angel’s hand—Aziraphale declined with a smile.
“No, I really need to finish this document. Maggie needs written confirmation by tomorrow that I’m waiving her rent for the past few months. But of course, you can go to bed already. Don’t let me keep you.”
The demon cursed silently to himself. But he didn’t want it to seem weird– let alone like he had only tried to coax the angel into going to bed so they could hold hands again. The last thing he wanted was to appear needy, or to admit how much he liked that form of affection. How much he liked Aziraphale... Besides, he had already claimed to be tired– he couldn’t take that back without raising suspicion. So he just had to go along with it.
“Uhh… yeah, of course. Do your thing. I’ll… go to bed then.” He went upstairs to Aziraphale’s bedroom, still annoyed at himself.
Once in his pajamas, he lay down on the bed, facing the angel’s side. He thought, if the angel came up shortly, it wouldn’t seem odd that Crowley was still awake, lying there turned toward him. He smiled to himself at the thought of holding Aziraphale’s hand again.
But the longer he waited, the more uncertain he became. It had to have been 15–20 minutes by now. If Aziraphale came now, he’d see that Crowley was still awake and might question why he could only fall asleep (or wanted to) in Aziraphale's presence. At least, that’s what the demon thought. The angel might suspect that Crowley was craving physical closeness. He didn’t want that. So he rolled to the other side, like he had in the first few nights – his back now facing the angel’s side of the bed.
Another quarter of an hour – or maybe a bit more – passed before Aziraphale entered the room. Crowley, still wide awake, heard the footsteps, the soft creaking of the bed as the angel sat down, and the rustling of fabric beside him as he lay down and pulled the blanket over himself. A few seconds later, Crowley felt a touch on his back, a gentle tap. It seemed Aziraphale wanted his attention, but without waking him, just in case he was already asleep.
After a moment of hesitation, Crowley turned onto his back and looked at Aziraphale. The angel also seemed hesitant for a second before lifting the blanket with his arm.
Was Crowley dreaming, or was this really an invitation to cuddle?!
The demon opened his mouth, intending to ask and make sure, but no words came out. I was quite obvious — Crowley couldn’t think of another meaning for this gesture. But of course, the angel had noticed his uncertainty and gave him a look that said something along the lines of: "Do you want to?" or "You coming?".
Crowley knew that if he didn’t act now, he would regret it forever. So he shifted onto his side, pushed himself up on his arms, and slid over under the blanket Aziraphale was holding up. The angel lowered his arm, covering Crowley and letting his arm rest around him. Said demon wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe. They had never been this close before—at least not that Crowley could recall. But it was hard to focus on anything right now. His cheeks felt hot, and his heart was pounding loudly and quickly. He wondered if Aziraphale could feel it too.
The angel suddenly broke the silence. “I’m glad we found a solution.”
Crowley blinked a few times. “…what?”
“For your sleeping issues.”
His face dropped. “You... knew?"
Aziraphale furrowed his brow and gave him a soft smile. “I’m not that dumb, Crowley.”
“You—” he opened his mouth, attempting to say you’re not dumb, but he was interrupted.
“Your tension was palpable… I don’t think anyone that tense could ever fall asleep. Besides, you seemed very exhausted during the day…” he said teasingly. “Not to mention the night you suddenly disappeared for several hours.”
Crowley stared at him for a few seconds, swallowed, took a deep breath, and then closed his eyes. “Okay… listen, Angel. I’m sorry I lied. I just didn't know how to tell you. And I didn't want to come off as rude.” He opened his eyes and looked into the angel’s. “I really am very grateful for your hospitality. It’s jus' all… new to me. Being here. With you."
Aziraphale looked at him with compassion. "Oh Crowley, it is all right. I forgive you. I kind of suspected that was the reason anyway. I wasn’t angry with you, I really only wanted to help.”
His expression softened. “You already did, Angel… I don’t have to sleep in my car anymore.”
“Yes, but… what good is that if you can’t fall asleep.” Aziraphale seemed to be talking down his own actions again — something Crowley wouldn't allow.
“But I can now.”
They fell silent for a moment until Aziraphale began to smile again. “Yes… I suppose you're right. I am just glad we did find a solution eventually.”
“You did.”
The angel furrowed his brows slightly, still smiling, and shook his head gently. “No. We did,” he assured the demon.
Crowley exhaled through his nose and smiled. “A'ight, fine. We did.” A moment later, he added, “And er... thank you.”
The angel beamed at him, visibly moved and placed his other hand affectionately on Crowley’s chest. This made Crowley move in even closer and finally cuddle up to his angel. He wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s waist and nestled his head against his chest. It felt safe to be in his arms.
Aziraphale rested his chin on Crowley’s head and gently pulled him closer with the hand still resting on his back. Now Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s heartbeat too. Just like his, it seemed to be racing. Crowley smiled against his chest. He knew from now on there would be no more nights staring at the wall or sleeping on cold leather seats. Just warmth, comfort, and sleep—real, restful sleep.
“Good night, Angel.”
“Good night, my dear…”