Engulfed in the marvelous works of Edgar Allan Poe, Aziraphale failed to notice a particular fiery-haired demon slipping inside his bookshop just as the sky started to grow darker. Comfortably seated in his reading chair, he only noticed that he wasn’t alone when something large and warm curled up against his side. Startled, he looked down at his side and saw Crowley. “Crowley, what are you doing?” He asked, awkwardly reaching out around the demon to put away his book.
“I’m looking for a place to sleep,” the demon sleepily muttered, shifting around some to make himself more comfortable. But Crowley being more comfortable meant wrapping himself completely around the angel in the way a snake might curl around a branch. A content noise came from the demon as he seemed to have found a comfortable position, his face nuzzled against the crook of Aziraphale’s neck and hot breath fanning against the angel’s sensitive skin. Their legs were entwined, and Crowley’s arms were entirely around him. Aziraphale tensed up and turned as red as a furnace at their close proximity - heart beating wildly.
“Since when do you cuddle?” He nearly squeaked out. In all the thousands of years he had known Crowley, the demon never came across as a cuddler. Crowley had never hugged him before. He couldn’t ever remember being as close to him before, and the idea made him somewhat lightheaded and flustered. Then again, ever since they stopped Armageddon, the demon had started to act somewhat strange; he dropped by much more often by his bookshop and was much more hands-on. Crowley had even gifted him a couple of plants he could use to decorate his shop and living area - the most beautiful plants he owned, the demon had told him with an almost shy smile.
“I’m sleepy,” Crowley replied, taking him out of his train of thoughts. Aziraphale took a closer look and had to admit that he looked rather exhausted. He couldn’t help but wonder what had made him this tired and was about to question it when Crowley muttered something else. Something that broke his heart in ways he didn’t fully understand. “I just don’t want to sleep alone anymore, so I came here.”
Almost carefully, as if testing his limits, Aziraphale reached out and wrapped one of his arms around Crowley’s middle and held him closer against his side.
He’s so warm , he couldn’t help but notice. Like he had his own personal heating blanket. Closing his own eyes, he placed his head on top of Crowley’s and decided to simply enjoy the hug he was being given. He didn’t mind being in Crowley’s arms like this. He felt rather warm and content. Safe even.
“Are you sleeping?” Aziraphale whispered after quite some time had passed.
“Shush,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale shivered at his low tone. “Pillows aren’t supposed to talk.”
A slight smile curled on the angel’s lips, but he stayed quiet, figuring he didn’t mind being Crowley’s pillow. He shifted around ever so slightly and leaned closer against the demon.
Nap time it is, it seems .