Ineffable Husbands One Shots

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet

Aziraphale does sleep sometimes. He does! It's just that usually, he reads for a few hours beforehand. Unless he is exceedingly tired or feeling very cuddly, he sits and reads in bed for a while.

Crowley pretty much always falls asleep before him. It's slightly less rare for him to still be awake when Aziraphale finally lies down and turns out the light. But he doesn't usually have a hard time falling asleep at all.

Which is why tonight is unusual, what with his mind reeling over age old questions that have kept him up late many nights in the past. These topics hadn't invaded his mind in a while. And things had changed. For example, the prime subject most of the questions revolved around was sipping cocoa and enjoying one of his many mystery novels directly next to him.

Crowley slithers closer to him and places a hand on his thigh, fingers splayed. "Angel?" he says, his voice already deeper, with the promise of sleep.

"Yes, my love?" Aziraphale responds, not looking away from his book.

"Got a question," Crowley admits softly.

Aziraphale lowers the book, with a thumb separating the papers so he doesn't lose his spot. His empty hand moves to massage Crowley's scalp. "A question?" the angel repeats.

"Mmmmm," Crowley confirms, sounding content.

When he doesn't continue and instead leans further into Aziraphale's touching, making happy hissing sounds when he moves to a particularly sensitive area, the angel prompts him, "What are you wondering, my dear? I will try to answer to the best of my ability," Aziraphale promises, leaning down to kiss Crowley's temple where his snake tattoo lies.

The demon shifts so that his golden eyes can meet Aziraphale's blue ones. "Why were you so surprised?" he asks, his voice sounding tight due to the angle of his neck.

Aziraphale huffs out a laugh. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific," he says, reaching to the nightstand to put a bookmark in his book, seeing as this is turning out to be a fully-fledged conversation.

"When I told you - well, when the Nazi spy man - when he called me 'Anthony-'" Aziraphale made a sound of acknowledgment, showing that he remembered this instance- "why were you so surprised? That I would choose that name for myself?" Crowley finished his roundabout question.

"Oh," Aziraphale said, now sounding rather uncomfortable. "Er... no reason! I mean it was so long ago now, how could I possibly remember? Very forgetful, me-"

"Aziraphale," Crowley said firmly. "I can tell when you're lying. You're awful at it. So spill!" he was now even more intrigued to know since Aziraphale seemed to want to avoid the question.

"Erm... I believe I would rather opt out of answering-" he said sheepishly, staring down at his lap.

"If you really don't want to, you don't have to," Crowley said earnestly. "But c'mon! It's a pretty simple question and I won't get mad at whatever your answer is. I promise," he said, taking Aziraphale's hand into his own.

The angel looked away from his lap and smiled warmly at Crowley. "Thank you, darling," he said, lifting up their entwined hands to place a gentle kiss on the back of Crowley's. The demon couldn't help the feeling his stomach got whenever Aziraphale showed affection. It felt like he was on a roller coaster. And the angel was never one to be stingy with affection. So Crowley spent his days going up and down and back up again on the roller-coaster of excitement he felt from these casual displays of affection that littered their every moment together. He rubbed his thumb over Aziraphale's knuckle and closed his eyes, feeling very comfortable in the warmth his bedmate provided.