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“Crowley?”
Crowley groaned at the soft voice and hauled the blanket higher over himself. He wasn’t sleeping, exactly, but being interrupted in not-quite-sleeping still irritated him.
“Are you awake?” Light, cautious footfalls neared the bed. “You sound awake, but you do groan in your sleep occasionally.”
“M’wake,” Crowley grumbled, turning his face into the pillow. Even that seemed to take a lot of energy.
A gentle hand settled on his head, stroking his hair. “Would you rather I left you alone?” Aziraphale asked softly. “I just wanted to be certain you were okay. You haven’t been over to the shop in several days. I was worried.”
“Several days?” How had it been several days? He could have sworn it was just yesterday that he’d laid down for a nap. “Hn. Sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry.” Another gentle stroke across his hair, a touch on his shoulder. “I’m just relieved nothing awful has happened to you. Is anything wrong?”
There was definitely something wrong, but it was anything he’d ever been able to do anything about. He wasn’t even sure how to explain it. “M’ just… really tired.”
Aziraphale was silent for a moment, then carefully sat on the edge of the bed. He kept his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “Do you feel less tired after sleeping?”
He should, especially after several days. With a groan, Crowley pushed the blanket back and squinted up at Aziraphale. Gosh, the light seemed bright. “Nuh.”
“That’s… concerning.” Brow furrowed, Aziraphale touched the back of his hand to Crowley’s cheek. “Well, you’re not running a fever. And you don’t look particularly sick, just rather… bleary. Tired, I suppose.”
“Honestly, s’ more like exhausted.” Even the thought of explaining it made him more exhausted, but he owed it to Aziraphale. And he couldn’t stand to see Aziraphale’s face so full of worry. “It’s not a big deal, just… happens sometimes. I get really worn out, especially after stuff’s busy. I mean, I’m worn out a lot of the time, but it’s not usually, er. Debilitating.”
“Ah,” Aziraphale said softly. He fussed with Crowley’s dark grey blankets, pulling them to cover him better. “I see. Things were rather hectic these past, well… several years.”
“Especially the last few months.” The lead up to Warlock’s birthday had been a nightmare, and then the whole mess with the Apocalypse itself… Sighing, Crowley freed one hand from under the covers and rubbed his eyes to clear away the blur of fatigue. “All that shit happened. And then we’ve been running around all over the place. Spending all our time together.”
Aziraphale’s expression fell. “And that’s exhausting?”
“No!” Crowley tried to sit up, but his head spun as soon as he shifted. He slumped back, heart pounding. “S’ not exhausting. I love hanging out with you, angel. But we’re going for walks all the time, going out to eat, taking drives to the countryside. And I hadn’t slept at all in ages.”
Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d successfully slept? Not since the near Apocalypse. A couple months before? Six months before?
Aziraphale watched him as if seeing all the calculations play out in his head. “But you don’t feel less tired after sleeping? Do you feel more tired?”
“It’s a pretty consistent level of tired.” But still incredibly annoying. He groaned and shifted just enough to get more comfortable. “Thought I’d just crash out for a solid night and then be good to go. I guess that didn’t happen, though.”
“Well, as you said, you have had rather a lot going on.” Biting his lip, Aziraphale twisted his hands together. Then he snapped his fingers, miracling a mug with steam rising from it. “How about some tea? Or I could whip up some coffee, if that would be better.”
“Nh, tea’s fine. I tried coffee, but that wasn’t really helping either.” Having a drink sounded good, though. Crowley sipped at it, letting the warmth flood through him. It just made him sleepier, honestly, but it was good.
Aziraphale got a cup of his own and took a long, slow drink. “Mmm, that’s excellent. Just what I needed. Is there anything else I can get you? A snack? A meal? More to drink?”
“Tea’s fine,” Crowley said again. His hands shook as he tried to hold onto the mug, and Aziraphale quickly snatched it back. “Thanks. Guess my corporation’s kinda pissed off.”
And the soreness was getting worse now that he was awake. He winced, rubbing his neck. Everything kinda hurt. That usually went with the bouts of fatigue, but it was still really annoying.
“I could give you a massage,” Aziraphale suggested, his bright gaze tracking the movements of Crowley’s hand. “Ooh, or we could soak in the tub. Do you have a heating pad around here? I could pop over to a shop and purchase one if not.”
Crowley smiled at the upbeat barrage of problem solving. “Thanks, but I don’t think anything other than loads more rest is really gonna help with this. I’m definitely way too exhausted to move enough for a bath.”
“Oh. Oh, I see. I suppose that makes sense.” With a quick, guilty laugh, Aziraphale patted his hand. “I’m sorry, dear fellow. I’m so eager to help that I suppose I am being a bit pushy.”
“A little.” And it was so sweet that it made Crowley’s heart ache. “Love that about you, though.”
The words slipped out, and vague horror washed over him. But Aziraphale just blushed and gave him a shy look. “Well. At any rate, I rather doubt you want me to continue down this path. Why don’t you drink your tea, and then I’ll let you get some rest.”
That was yet another suggestion, but it was made with such good intentions that Crowley couldn’t find it in his heart to be too annoyed. He let Aziraphale help him drink—which was actually really, really annoying, a demon shouldn’t need help—and then slumped back with a moan. Guh, this was ridiculous. How was it possible to be so, so fucking tired that he could hardly move?
“Oh, my poor old dear.” Gently, Aziraphale smoothed fringe off his brow. “You get some sleep now, hmm?”
“Nuh.” He inched his hand out, brushing his fingers against Aziraphale’s. The angel twitched slightly, hand instinctively turning to hold his. “Can you stay? I might wind up sleeping again, but I wasn’t having much luck earlier. It was really boring, just lying here alone.”
“Oh! Oh, I would love to stay.” With another shy look, Aziraphale bent. He pressed his lips to Crowley’s brow, careful, then pulled back. He took off his jacket, and the waistcoat followed.
Crowley watched with interest. It had been bloody ages since he’d seen Aziraphale out of his favorite clothes, barring quick changes between jackets. In many ways, Aziraphale had never left the nineteenth century.
“There. That’s more comfy.” With a soft hum, Aziraphale folded back the blankets and climbed onto the narrow strip of bed at Crowley’s right. “Um, do you have enough energy to slide over a bit, dear fellow? I’m a bit ample for this spot.”
Beaming, he patted his stomach. Crowley really wanted to bury his face in that stomach, to hide in the comfortable softness. But instead, he struggled to move over.
Just that much of a moment left him breathless, and Aziraphale made a soft coo of concern. Crowley gave him a weak, exhausted smile. “S’ okay, angel. I’m just still really wiped out. Better now that you’re here.”
“Well, I am quite glad of that.” Moving slowly enough not to jostle the bed, Aziraphale settled in. He reached out, then hesitated. “Oh, I’m sorry. I-I was going to, well… Silly of me, really, ought to know better than to—”
Before Aziraphale could waffle anymore, Crowley curled towards his softness. Aziraphale made a soft, surprised noise, and drew him to snuggle close.
Arms encircled him, protective, steady, strong enough to keep out any dangers. Aziraphale’s whole body radiated heat, a warmth that soothed all the aches in Crowley’s touchy corporation. And gosh, was he ever soft. Soft everywhere.
With a groan of appreciation, Crowley nuzzled into the well padded chest. “You’re really damn comfortable.”
“Oh! Thank you, dear fellow.” Aziraphale’s warm hand curled around the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. The plump fingers traveled up, a slow journey that combed through Crowley’s hair and massaged across his scalp. “Being comfortable is a worthy aspiration, wouldn’t you say?”
“Mm,” Crowley agreed. This was making him even sleepier, but in a different way from the sheer, crushing exhaustion he’d experienced recently. This was something else.
Not sleepiness that came from overwhelming fatigue, the kind where it was painful to even try to stay conscious. This was, well, comfortable. A sleepiness that came from relaxing, feeling safe, wanting to let go of all worries and just drift into a blissful slumber.
But maybe not yet. Crowley snuggled closer and draped his arm across the soft expanse of Aziraphale’s stomach. That took out a huge chunk of his remaining energy, but it was completely worth it. “Gosh, angel. We shoulda done this loads sooner. Had no idea what we were missing.”
“Oh, I quite agree.” Aziraphale’s other hand moved up and down his side in a slow, even rhythm. It made Crowley feel like he was melting into a puddle of contented goo. “I’d entertained the idea from time to time, but inviting you to bed always seemed a bit, um. Inappropriate.”
“It doesn’t feel inappropriate.” Crowley scraped together a few scraps of energy and managed to put a teasing note in his voice. “‘Course, maybe that’s just because I invited you to bed. Whole different story.”
Aziraphale laughed at that, an easy, delighted sound that made his belly jiggle. Crowley imagined how fantastic it would feel to have his face buried in the softness while Aziraphale laughed. That would probably be the best feeling in the whole world.
Once the angel’s mirth subsided, he pressed a light kiss to Crowley’s head. “I suppose that is true. Look at you, tempting me to do such a thing. You dreadful old serpent.”
“That’s me. The Original Tempter, after all. Serpent of Snuggles.” Crowley froze, horrified at himself. “Hrgk. Shit. You’re never gonna let me live that one down, are you?”
“I most certainly am not.” Aziraphale stroked his hair, another kiss brushing against his head. “I’m far too delighted by being best friends with the Serpent of Snuggles. I suppose that means that I’m allowed to request said snuggles if I ever have need of them?”
“Yup. Whenever you need.” Fun as this banter was, Crowley’s energy was flagging. He let out a long, tired breath and sank into the softness of his angel.
Aziraphale fussed with the blanket a bit more, then settled both arms around him and leaned his cheek against Crowley’s head. “You rest as long as you need,” he murmured. “I’ll stay with you.”
Crowley couldn’t spare the energy to say anything in response; he was dropping off too quickly. But at least he knew that when he woke up, even if he was still pretty exhausted, Aziraphale would be right here to greet him.