GO - Snakey husband is cold. Tricks angel husband into cuddles.
x
The air outside settled into a bone-deep chill, where the snow in the trees froze to ice and the air took on the pure, deep ache of true winter. Aziraphale curled up at the end of the couch, a thick tartan-patterned blanket thrown over his legs as the fire crackled next to him, soothing away the cold as he read.
Uneven footsteps came tumbling down from the newly refurbished flat upstairs and he lifted his head as Crowley trudged over to him, bleary-eyed and shivering even though his pajamas appeared to be particularly warm.
"I’ve an idea.“ Crowley said, stopping in front of Aziraphale.
"An idea?” Aziraphale replied as he crept closer, trying to understand the connection between the serpent’s words and actions. Thin fingers slid under the blanket and lifted up and Crowley slid into the angel’s lap instead, curling the blanket around them both, the length of his long legs forced to lie over the armrest. Ah, so that was it.
Aziraphale chuckled, placing his book down on the side table and curling his arms around Crowley, reaching underneath the folds of his shirt and pressing warmth into the cool skin.
"I see,“ Aziraphale whispered. “Cold are you, darling? It is a rather ghastly chill tonight isn’t it?” He ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, smiling at the humming breath that ghosted over his clavicle. “I’m surprised you haven’t just turned the feeling off.“
Crowley grunted, leaning into his hand. “S’better when you do it. How’s about you put a pin in what you’re doing and come upstairs to warm me up? ” One golden eye peaked open at him, imploring and just a touch pleading. “Just long enough to warm up the sheets, angel. Then you can come back down and read to your heart’s content.”
“And we are to forget that you can just as easily will your way into warmth, hm?” Aziraphale smoothed his hands over the soft skin of Crowley’s lower back, pressing heat where he could touch. It was funny that demons were always associated with fire when in truth, they were drawn to the flames because their blood tended to run so very cold indeed.
Crowley muttered under his breath and when Aziraphale made a questioning noise back, he finally sighed: “Would you—Will you just—Indulge me?”
Oh, and who was he to deny such a sweet request?
Aziraphale chuckled, warm and happy, ignoring Crowley’s offended growling as he did so. “Alright, alright. You’ve tempted me, dear.” He said. Crowley sniffed, triumphant and burrowed closer. “But only until you’re comfortable, then I’m coming back down for a while. I simply must see what happens next! ”
"You’ve read that book at least a dozen times, Aziraphale.“
"I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
"Ach, fine” Crowley grinned with the confidence of someone who’d gotten exactly what he wanted, unfolding himself with Aziraphale’s blanket still around his shoulders. The firelight cast gold against his hair and brightened his eyes. Aziraphale stood as if drawn by a siren call.
Crowley made it to the base of the stairs before Aziraphale’s resolve shattered. He lifted the demon and all his long, gangly limbs off his feet, Aziraphale’s hands under his knees and back to curl him near again.
Crowley made a choked off noise in surprise, his arms coming up to grasp around Aziraphale’s neck. The angel smiled back at him. “Let me take care of you.” He nosed at the snake on Crowley’s temple, brushed his lips there. "That’s what you wanted isn’t it?“
Blood flushed across the demon’s cheeks and nose, delighting him when Crowley continued to make a series of unintelligible, but decidedly positive, noises. “Er— Well, if— "
"Hush love.” Aziraphale took pity on him and swept them both upstairs. The flat was still a bit of a mess if Aziraphale was honest. Though, Crowley had convinced him to at least box away the books that he wanted to send to the cottage to clear some room. Seeing them brought both a strange melancholy at the thought of moving his personal collection anywhere but his beloved bookshop and a burst of excitement knowing that they were soon going to be displayed in their new home.
Crowley allowed himself to be carried, the corners of his thin lips curling into something fond that made his heart stutter rather obviously. The bedroom was the only area in the building that had seen any of Crowley’s personal attention, as it was the only place Aziraphale hadn’t necessarily claimed for himself unless the demon was there. He had urged the windows to widen, bathing the room in moonlight when the curtains opened as they were now. He came to a stop at the edge of the bed, the comforter so deep a purple they were almost black but so very soft to the touch. Just the way Crowley liked.
He let Crowley slide back to the floor with only a small sense of loss, seeing the relief in the demon’s limbs as he immediately made to dive back under the covers.
"Ugh.“ Aziraphale couldn’t see the demons face as he rummaged for an extra set of blankets but he could hear the irritation clear as day. ”How? How are our sheets bloody freezing? I was just here!“
"I’ll be sure to funnel the heat up this way,” Aziraphale said obligingly to the lump in the blankets.
"Could just get a regular heating system and save us all the trouble.“ Came the muffled response. Aziraphale could see the slight quiver of Crowley’s body.
"Oh, that would take entirely too many people in my shop doing far too much touching and for much too long.” Aziraphale waved him off and snapped the blankets open to lay them over the bed and Crowley. When he was done, he slipped in and gathered the demon back into his arms. “There now.” He sighed, feeling Crowley relax, curling his arms and legs around him in a way that would probably break most humans into pieces. “Is that better?"
"Much.” Crowley’s toothy grin spread against his neck and then melted into a grateful kiss.
“Just for a few moments,” Aziraphale warned, contradicting himself almost immediately by burying his nose in the hair at Crowley’s crown. “That’s all.”
“Course, angel.”
Aziraphale was made of light. Not the heat of flames and destruction; but the warmth of security, of comfort. The core of him was a cascade of embers brought on by love, and Crowley was the very breath that drew it to a roar. It was clear he’d been conned. So well known by the creature he held that they both knew he would give in to the excuse to hold him and that the feel of Crowley’s skin against his own was his greatest weakness.
Yet he couldn’t find a true reason to mind, even as his cast-aside book called out to him from the shop below. Instead, he spread his wings from the other plane, cocooning them both, leaving no space between them and when Crowley’s breath started to even out, the angel found he could not find the strength to part from him.
He drifted after his love with a smile, remembering that he would never have to do so again.
