#caring crowley

@veritasrose​ asked for 

Aziraphale is kind of sad after everything because they are “free” but he also misses heaven a bit (like leaving toxic family vibes?)
And Crowley maybe cuddles him and reads him a story? Is a little extra domestic to make his angel feel less lonely in the world?

So, have some soft comfort in the South Downs! 1,225 words

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Crowley peered at his angel from where he was sprawled in an armchair in their new living room. They had finished moving into their cottage in Devil’s Dyke a few hours ago. Aziraphale had puttered about, fussing with books on the new shelves until he finally pulled one down to read. Then he had fidgeted about the living area, fluffing and rearranging pillows, getting a blanket then setting it aside. He finally sat on the sofa, changing his position restlessly until he eventually settled.

Crowley had been scrolling on his phone, but had kept a half eye on the angel the entire time. He had watched all the activity from where he had thrown himself into a plush chair, limbs draped over the arms in what would have been an uncomfortable position for a proper human body that wasn’t sometimes a snake (this didn’t apply to Crowley, so he was perfectly fine).

The angel was now the perfect picture of one entirely engrossed in what they were reading. Only, the last time Crowley had seen him turn a page was a half hour ago. 

“Something wrong, angel?” he ventured. 

Aziraphale startled and looked up into golden eyes crinkled with concern. He could see them easily, and the emotion they were drenched in, as Crowley had taken his sunglasses off the moment they were inside and hadn’t touched them since. It warmed him to see the demon appear so comfortable. He wished he felt the same.

“Hmm? Why do you ask, dear? Just reading, everything is fine.” He forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile onto his face. This only made the demon scowl. 

“Well now I’m even more concerned. What was that? Was that meant to be reassuring? Bit too close to the look you’d give Michael, if you ask me.” 

Aziraphale’s face did something complicated at that, settling on perturbed. 

“What a ridiculous thing to say, I don’t know what you mean.”

“C’mon, angel. ’S been six thousand years, y’ think I don’t know how to read you by now?” Crowley drew himself up out of his seat like a puppet on strings, then crossed over to sit on the couch beside Aziraphale. He gently took the book out of Aziraphale’s hands, snapping a bookmark into it and setting it onto the coffee table. “Is there something wrong with the cottage? You having second thoughts?”

“No! No, nothing like that. It’s nothing, really, Crowley.” Aziraphale twisted the ring on his little finger. “It’s wonderful. I love the cottage. There’s nothing to have second thoughts over. It’s a lovely village, a perfect cottage, and it’s ours. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“And yet…?” Crowley asked, sensing words left unsaid.

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth. 

“It’s nothing, really. Terribly silly.”

“Out with it, angel.”

“It’s just. I… even though they were rather awful, and I didn’t feel that I properly belonged… it’s just odd, that’s all. To be cut off from heaven. But it’s quite ridiculous. I’m glad!” 

He looked rather more miserable than he did glad, Crowley thought, but he kept that to himself. 

“Good riddance. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than on our side,” Aziraphale affirmed, giving a more sincere smile, though it was a bit weak, and his eyes still looked sad.

“It’s alright, you know. It’s alright to miss what it could have been, should have been. It’s ok to miss the home or family you knew, even if it was a bit shit.”

Aziraphale sputtered. “But you hate Gabriel.”

“I do. I want to drop the archangel fucking Gabriel into a pit of bubbling goo… But that’s not the point, Angel. It was all you knew for thousands of years. Unknowable amounts of time. It should have been where you belonged. It’s ok to mourn all that.” Crowley reached out a hand and gave Aziraphale’s knee a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere. And hopefully we can build our own thing. Our own side. Our own home, maybe even our own sort of family.” Crowley was thinking of the humans they had befriended over the notpocalypse.

Aziraphale’s eyes welled, and he fought to keep his cheeks dry. He covered the hand on his knee with one of his own.

“You have always been that. Will always be that, to me.“

“Sap,” Crowley accused, though his eyes were overly fond.

Azriphale gave a soft, pleased smile, the best one Crowley had seen all day.

“Softie,” Aziraphale returned fondly.

“Well, so long as you don’t go telling anyone. Here. You get more comfortable, and I’ll go get you some cocoa.” Crowley picked up the discarded blanket and tucked it around his angel, then went to the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later and handed over a steaming cup, with so many little pink marshmallows floating on top that you could hardly see the cocoa underneath. Aziraphale flushed and accepted it gratefully.

“Oh,thankyou.”

“Be right back, Angel.” 

Aziraphale looked at him curiously but waited quietly, sipping at his drink. 

Crowley went to the bookshelves, trailing a finger along the spines until he stopped at an old red hardcover, pulling it off the shelf. He came round the sofa and settled in the other corner, facing Aziraphale. He opened the book and started reading aloud.

“Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it.”

Aziraphale smiled into his mug, eyes twinkling. Even after so many millennia, Crowley could still surprise him.

“Are you laughing at me?” Crowley demanded, his nose crinkled up. Aziraphale grinned wider before biting it back. 

“I’m not laughing, dear.”

“Wot’s that look about, then?”

“Do you object to my smiling?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Mmm?” Aziraphale’s eyes were twinkling with mirth.

“That’s enough of that, then.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows shot up. “Enough of what?”

“You’re distracting me. C’mere.”

Crowley took the mug out of Aziraphale’s hands and set it on the coffee table, earning a befuddled look from the angel. He then grabbed Aziraphale and pulled him around until he was resting against Crowley’s chest, stretching his own long legs out around him. Crowley fixed the blanket back around Aziraphale, then handed him back the mug. 

“There. Now, where was I?”

Aziraphale was too stunned to reply.

“Ah, yes. ‘And then he feels that perhaps there isn’t. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie-the-Pooh.’”

Aziraphale wiggled a bit, getting more comfortable.

“Ngk,” Crowley said. “Stop wiggling about, would you?”

“Sorry.”

“Drink your cocoa.”

“Yes, dear.”

Aziraphale let the heat from his cocoa and the demon at his back seep in, making him feel cozy and settled. Things were different now, and it would be an adjustment. He had a hard time with change, but this was one he welcomed with excitement and hope. He already felt lighter than he could remember ever feeling. By his demon’s side — on their side — dreams he hadn’t let himself entertain were not only possible, but entirely likely. Change could be scary, but for once he looked forward to it.

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Thank you @lohrendrell&@ahh-fxck for beta’ing!! <3 <3

Excerpts from Winnie-the-Pooh by A. A. Milne

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