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Rain tapped softly against the windows of the bookshop, steady and calming, turning the rest of Soho into a distant blur of lights and wet pavement.
Inside, everything was warm.
Books, tea, old wood, candlelight.
Home.
Aziraphale sighed happily as he turned another page of his novel, curled comfortably in his favorite chair.
The peace lasted exactly seven seconds before the front door slammed open.
Crowley stumbled inside dramatically, soaked from the rain, sunglasses crooked, hair an absolute disaster.
Aziraphale looked up immediately.
“Oh dear.”
Crowley pointed at him tiredly.
“Don’t start.”
“You look dreadful.”
“Thank you, angel. Your support means everything to me.”
Despite the sarcasm, his voice sounded rough. Exhausted.
That made Aziraphale lower his book at once.
Crowley rarely admitted weakness, even accidentally. Usually he hid exhaustion behind irritation and dramatic complaining.
Tonight he simply looked worn out.
“Bad day?” Aziraphale asked gently.
Crowley groaned and dropped himself onto the sofa face-first.
“Bad century.”
“That bad?”
“Do you know how difficult it is to tempt modern humans? Half of them are already doing terrible things recreationally.”
Aziraphale hummed sympathetically.
“And then Hell sends auditors,” Crowley continued miserably into the cushions. “Auditors, angel. Demons with clipboards.”
“That does sound awful.”
“It was.”
Aziraphale stood.
“I’m making cocoa.”
Crowley lifted one hand weakly.
“Marry me.”
“You say that every time I offer cocoa.”
“And I mean it every time.”
Twenty minutes later, Crowley was wrapped in two blankets on the sofa, clutching a mug while Aziraphale sat beside him.
The demon looked dangerously comfortable.
Suspiciously comfortable.
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes.
“You’re shivering.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“Demonic vibration.”
“That is not a thing.”
“It could be.”
Aziraphale smiled fondly.
Crowley looked awful, but softer somehow. Sleepy enough that his usual defenses were slipping.
His movements were slower.
His voice quieter.
He leaned against the sofa cushions with heavy eyelids, barely reacting when Aziraphale adjusted the blanket around his shoulders.
Normally he would have complained loudly.
Tonight he only muttered:
“Warm.”
Aziraphale’s expression melted immediately.
“Oh, you poor thing.”
Crowley squinted at him suspiciously.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some tragic wet cat you found in an alley.”
Aziraphale paused.
“…You do resemble one.”
“Angel.”
Aziraphale laughed softly.
Crowley glared for approximately three seconds before yawning so hard his sunglasses slipped down his nose.
Aziraphale gasped dramatically.
“Crowley!”
“What?”
“Your eyes are closing.”
“Rude.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
Another yawn interrupted him.
Aziraphale folded his hands together smugly.
Crowley pointed at him.
“If you say ‘I told you so,’ I’m leaving.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I’ll drive home.”
“You absolutely will not.”
Crowley blinked slowly.
“…Too far.”
“It’s six streets away.”
“Exactly. Impossible journey.”
Aziraphale smiled helplessly.
“Stay here tonight.”
Crowley looked at him over the rim of his mug.
“In the bookshop?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
“You can take the guest room.”
Crowley made a face.
“Stairs.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“Too many.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes affectionately.
“Then stay on the sofa.”
Crowley considered this with the seriousness of a diplomatic negotiation.
“…Fine.”
Five minutes later he was asleep.
Completely asleep.
One moment he’d been mumbling about incompetent demons and traffic lights, and the next his head tipped sideways onto Aziraphale’s shoulder.
Aziraphale froze.
Crowley never fell asleep this easily around other people.
Slowly, carefully, Aziraphale looked down.
The demon was breathing deeply, face relaxed in a way Aziraphale rarely saw. Without the constant tension in his expression, Crowley looked strangely young.
Soft.
Trusting.
Aziraphale’s chest tightened painfully.
“Oh, my dear…”
He carefully adjusted the blanket around Crowley.
The demon immediately curled closer in response.
Aziraphale went very still.
Crowley made a quiet sleepy sound and pressed against his side like he belonged there.
Which—
Well.
That was dangerous for Aziraphale’s heart.
Very dangerous.
Still, he stayed exactly where he was.
Eventually the rain, the warmth, and Crowley’s steady breathing lulled him to sleep too.
—
Something warm tightened around Aziraphale’s waist.
He blinked awake slowly.
The lamps glowed dimly around the bookshop. Outside, the rain had stopped completely.
Crowley was still asleep against him.
But—
Aziraphale looked down.
And stared.
A slender black tail was curled securely around his waist beneath the blanket.
Aziraphale stopped breathing.
The tail twitched slightly.
Crowley sighed in his sleep and tightened it instinctively.
Aziraphale felt his entire soul leave his body.
“Oh,” he whispered faintly.
Oh, that was adorable.
The tail was smooth, dark, scaled faintly with hints of red under the light. The tip flicked lazily against Aziraphale’s side.
As if seeking warmth.
As if clinging to him unconsciously.
Aziraphale pressed a hand over his mouth to stop himself from making an embarrassing noise.
Crowley had partially shifted in his sleep.
Because he was tired.
Because he felt safe enough to relax completely.
Aziraphale might actually cry.
Very gently, he brushed his fingertips against the tail.
Crowley made a soft hiss in his sleep.
The tail tightened immediately around Aziraphale.
Aziraphale nearly combusted from affection.
“Oh, you sweet thing…”
Another sleepy hiss.
Then Crowley burrowed closer.
Aziraphale stared at the ceiling for several long moments, trying unsuccessfully to recover emotionally.
It did not work.
Curiosity eventually won.
Carefully, he lifted the blanket slightly.
Tiny black scales dusted one side of Crowley’s neck.
Aziraphale made a strangled sound.
“Good Lord.”
Crowley stirred faintly.
“Mmph… angel…”
“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale whispered instantly.
The demon relaxed again at the sound of his voice.
And the tail gave one tiny content flick.
Aziraphale was done for.
Completely.
—
Crowley woke slowly the next morning.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Which immediately meant something was wrong.
Crowley opened one eye.
And realized he was practically draped across Aziraphale.
Oh no.
He froze.
Blanket tangled everywhere.
Aziraphale asleep beside him.
And—
Oh no.
OH NO.
A black tail was wrapped securely around Aziraphale’s waist.
Crowley’s soul left his body.
“No no no no—”
The tail vanished instantly.
Aziraphale startled awake.
“Crowley?”
Crowley was already halfway off the sofa in horror.
“DON’T SAY ANYTHING.”
Aziraphale blinked.
Then slowly smiled.
Crowley pointed at him accusingly.
“No. Absolutely not. Stop that smile immediately.”
“What smile?”
“The one that says you discovered something humiliating and are going to treasure it forever.”
Aziraphale failed miserably at looking innocent.
Crowley covered his face with both hands.
“I’m going to throw myself into traffic.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”
“I had a tail!”
“A very lovely tail.”
“ANGEL.”
Aziraphale burst into helpless laughter.
Crowley groaned in despair.
“It only happens when I’m extremely tired,” he mumbled through his hands. “I don’t even notice anymore.”
Aziraphale softened immediately.
“Oh, Crowley…”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s adorable.”
“It is not adorable.”
“It wrapped around me.”
Crowley made a horrified noise.
“You noticed that?”
“My dear, it was holding me hostage.”
“That is not helping!”
Aziraphale was still smiling far too fondly.
Crowley peeked through his fingers suspiciously.
“You really think it’s cute?”
Aziraphale looked genuinely surprised.
“Crowley, I think you’re cute constantly. This is hardly new information.”
Crowley stared at him.
Speechless.
Aziraphale’s expression softened further.
“You must have been very tired,” he said quietly. “You felt safe enough to sleep deeply.”
Crowley looked away immediately.
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
The answer lacked conviction.
Aziraphale gently reached for his hand.
Crowley let him.
“You’re safe here,” Aziraphale said softly.
Crowley swallowed once.
Then muttered:
“Dangerously sentimental thing to say to a demon.”
Aziraphale smiled.
“Well. You keep staying anyway.”
Crowley opened his mouth—
And abruptly jerked in horror.
A tiny section of black tail had appeared again behind him.
Both of them stared at it.
Silence.
Then the tail curled automatically toward Aziraphale’s wrist.
Crowley looked moments away from spontaneous combustion.
Aziraphale, meanwhile, looked delighted.
“Oh, that’s precious.”
“It’s mutiny,” Crowley said weakly.
Aziraphale carefully touched the tail.
Crowley let out an embarrassing hiss.
The tail immediately wrapped around Aziraphale’s wrist.
Crowley closed his eyes in complete defeat.
“I’m never recovering from this.”
Aziraphale beamed at him.
“No, I don’t think you are.”