He had hardly spent more than three hours in his human-shaped corporation, yet he was already winded by the time he managed to lower all the shop’s curtains and finally lock the door. A quick miracle was sent behind him to flip the sign to “Most definitely closed” as he trudged into the back room to rest for the evening.
There had been no other way around it. It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time to invite the book dealer over for a few negotiations; after all, she was an old colleague of his and a delight to have conversations with. However, when spending most of an afternoon around a human, it was nearly impossible to keep up the vague impression of being a human without actually becoming humanoid. Overall, it was easier to spend that time in a human corporation than holding on to a miracled façade for that long.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t still exhausting, though.
It was like walking around in clothes that were much too tight. Humans certainly were not the largest of Her creations, but they were still quite clumsy forms with arms and legs that had to move at the same time, heavy skin, dense bones, and weighty organs all packed inside a cumbersome package.
He transformed as soon as he sat on the sofa. The relief of it all was soothing at least. Fluffy feathers took the place of stuffy clothes, white wings replaced his heavy arms, and those pesky legs thinned to a comfortable weight that could easily be tucked under his body.
Finally, he could be soft and small in all the right ways. He had no idea how Crowley could be humanoid so often without facing similar fatigue. Perhaps that was why the demon spent most of his spare time asleep.
Despite finally being back into his much more comfortable form, the extended period in that skin suit had ruffled his feathers just as literally as metaphorically. There was an itchy irritation under his feathers, but he was much too tired to groom himself right now. All he wanted to do was curl up with a cup of tea and a good book, but the thought of gathering the necessary materials to do so (or even miracle them up) made him want to do nothing but settle into the cushions and stay there until he had the energy to move again. He allowed his tired eyes to drift shut, letting the quiet and dark of the room calm him for just a bit.
He had only been in his weary siesta for a few minutes when he smelled a rather familiar aroma in the back room. He tiredly blinked open his eyes just in time to catch a fresh cup of tea on a saucer delicately placed in front of him. He looked up to see Crowley, in his humanoid form for some reason, pushing the cup closer to where Aziraphale could comfortably dip his beak in for a sip.
“My dear?” He asked, unsure why Crowley was in that form so late in the evening. By now he was usually a snoring pile of coils wrapped around the base of one of Aziraphale's table lamps.
“You looked a little flustered, so I figured you might need a pick-me-up,” he shrugged as if he hadn’t done anything special. Aziraphale could feel his feathers fluff up at the amount of love that was coursing through his tiny body.
“Oh, my darling, how very kin—”
“Anyway,” Crowley coughed, not letting Azriaphale hit him with another four-letter word. “Your feathers are all ruffled, and since I have hands at the moment, I figured I could… Help you straighten them out a little. ‘F ya like, that is.” He turned his head away, trying and failing to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Luckily Aziraphale’s happy cooing had him looking back just in time to catch the angel’s happy wiggle and flutter.
“Oh, that sounds like just the thing my dear, if you don’t mind terribly?”
“Not at all.” Without a moment's hesitation, Crowley’s hand was held open by Aziraphale, letting him step gently onto his palm so Crowley could bring him to his lap as he sat down.
Aziraphale stretched his wings out as best he could to give Crowley room to work, and soon enough the demon’s fingers were gently grooming Aziraphale’s wings. It wasn’t anything too deep or intense, but just a slight straightening of a few ruffled feathers along with long gentle strokes across the wing to calm the rest of the dove’s frayed nerves. They paused every few minutes so that Crowley could bring the teacup back to Aziraphale’s beak to drink, then it was back to the relaxing grooming that soon had Aziraphale looking like a fluffy melted marshmallow in Crowley’s palm.
“That good, angel?” Crowley asked after about thirty minutes of grooming and an extra ten minutes of gentle petting that neither one of them brought up.
“Very good, my dear. Thank you so very much.” Aziraphale opened his eyes that he hadn’t realized he had shut during the grooming. He turned his head so he could look back at his darling demon. “I hope it wasn’t too taxing for you to stay in that form just for me.”
Crowley simply gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Some things are worth shifting for.”
There was only the briefest tingle of a miracle before Crowley suddenly found himself with a lap full of human-shaped angel. “Too right, my dear.” He swiftly leaned in, pressing his lips against the demon’s. Crowley stiffened in surprise, but quickly returned the kiss, keeping it gentle and soft just for his angel. When Aziraphale finally pulled away, he only had a moment's notice before suddenly there was a large snake in his hands and lap.
Aziraphale couldn’t help but chuckle. “Getting tired, darling?”
“Just get down here, already, angel,” he grumbled, doing his best to keep himself from hiding his face in his coils.
“Oh, gladly.”
Then there on the sofa was a significantly less ruffled dove resting in his favorite nest of black and red coils. The book Aziraphale had been reading earlier that day was conveniently placed against the long loops of the scaley nest so that Aziraphale could easily read and the serpent’s tail could easily flip the pages. (Aziraphale was yet to discover that his feathers poofed up the slightest bit when he was done with a page, giving Crowley the wordless cue to flip to the next one.)
“Oh, you’re too good to me, dear.” With a happy little wiggle to settle comfortably in his love’s nest, he set his eyes on the beginning of the chapter.
“Shaddap…”
And if Crowley buried his head right into the soft feathers under Azriaphale’s breast to hide his face, well, no one bothered to mention it. After all, Aziraphale had a good book and good company to enjoy.
