“You drive a hard bargain,” he mutters, not finding it in himself to open his eyes quite yet. He tugs Aziraphale closer and the angel chuckles softly, letting himself be pulled down.
“I already got dressed, my dear,” he scolds Crowley in that warm manner only this exact angel is capable of. “It wouldn’t be proper of me to come back to bed.”
“And it wouldn’t be proper of me to not try to tempt an angel down the path of Sloth,” Crowley purrs, winding his arms around the softness of Aziraphale’s torso and nuzzling the side of his neck.
Aziraphale laughs and presses a kiss to his demon’s temple.
“You silly thing. If you recall, we have a reservation at the Ritz today and since London is a fair drive away, we ought to get ready sooner than later. It’s already half past eleven.”
“Half past eleven! I can miracle us ready—”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Aziraphale interrupts him and finally Crowley cracks his eyes open, peering at the angel incredulously.
“Well,” the angel says nonchalantly and leans back so he can look at Crowley properly, “I was rather hoping that I would get to dress you this time.”
The metaphorical cogs of Crowley’s brain screech to a halt, then start up in a stuttering pace.
“Dress— dress— dress. Dress me.”
Aziraphale looks at him fondly and gives a gentle pat to his cheek.
“That is what I said. Do you object?”
Crowley feels the scarlet warmth of a blush creeping up his collar, heating his ears before reaching the sharpness of his cheekbones. He lets out a sound that wouldn’t seem odd coming from a deflating balloon.
“…no,” he manages. Aziraphale beams at him.
BABE I KNOW this wasn’t exactly what you asked for but I hope you love me enough to forgive me! (⸝⸝⸝◕ั ௰ ◕ั⸝⸝⸝) The prompt ran away from me and then came back looking like this
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