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golden slumbers fill your eyes

Summary:

Together, they’ll put a tree up in the bookshop, and make sure every other festive shop window doesn’t hold a candle to their own. Together, they’ll bicker and complain at each other while simultaneously being wrapped around each other under a blanket by the fireplace, warm cocoa in their hands.

Together, they’ll be warm for every winter yet to come.

Together, they’ll glow.

 

or: aziraphale walks crowley home while he’s drunk during christmas and they’re so in love it’s disgusting

Notes:

i lied when i said i wasn’t gonna write again

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

“You may not beeee an angel…”

 

“Crowley, please.”

 

“Cause angels aaaare so fewww..”

 

“Dear. At least try to walk straight.”

 

With one hand squeezing Crowley’s waist in a vice-grip, Aziraphale led Crowley down the glittering streets of Soho during the holidays. Around them were extravagant, downright ridiculous LED light spectacles and warmly-lit display windows glowing golden from every shop. They had just finished their heavily alcoholic dinner at a new restaurant that opened only recently, to both of their reluctance. Aziraphale considered a break from the Ritz could be a special occasion, with Christmas just around the corner and everything. The festive nature of it all led Crowley to drink a little more than anticipated.

 

“C’mon, you love that song. It’s old.”

 

“I love that song when it’s sung by Doris Day and Buddy Clark, and that was only seventy-four years ago.”

 

“Y’know, you saying ‘only’ in front of anyone that isn’t me… would make you sound ancient.”

 

“I am.”

 

“And you look it, too.”

 

“I am literally the only thing keeping you upright at this moment, I would watch my tongue if I were you.”

 

Crowley only giggled drunkenly at that, shoving his side into Aziraphale’s.

 

“Y’should let that fire ‘n you out more often. It’s scorchin’ hot.” Crowley pauses to stare at his husband’s unimpressed expression. “.. ‘N I’m freezing cold. Can you go any faster?”

 

Aziraphale’s eyebrow visibly twitched.

 

“I’m sorry. Is it now my fault that you chose to get plastered mid-meal and then refuse to let me drive the Bentley?”

 

“No. ‘S now your fault for being slow.”

 

“You are clinging to me with your entire body weight.”
Crowley titled his head back in mock annoyance.

 

“Eeeexcuses, excuses. Thas’ all you ever have. All you ever say. Blah, blah, blah.”

 

“Lord, the scolding I’d unleash on you if we weren’t in public.”

 

“Y’ve been scolding this whole bloody time!”

 

“That is enough! Hush. Let’s please just walk silently now.”

 

With a few more groans of indignation, Crowley complies. Both of their mouths shut, tuning into the bustling sounds around them. Their footsteps and the cars passing by become loud in their ears, and the lights become brighter, somehow. Crowley’s sunglasses are currently in Aziraphale’s breast pocket, so he tilts his head up towards the sky. His vision blurs the Christmas lights and the stars together, creating a very pretty swirl of reds and yellows and whites. He chuckles at the sight, before turning his attention back to Aziraphale’s face.

 

He just stares at him for a long moment. In his drunken haze, the angel looks strangely even prettier than he usually does. The golden lights behind him seem to give his side profile a glow around the edges. Crowley’s eyes trace the line of the bump on the bridge of his nose, around the tip of it, and over the lovely curve of his lips. Then it’s down to the stupid tartan scarf around his neck, and back up to his winter blue eyes. They’re very concentrated, so focused on getting Crowley home, and warm, and in bed. His heart swells.

 

Those eyes flicker over to him, brow furrowing.

 

“What?”

 

“Your eyes are very pretty under the lights.”

 

Aziraphale is taken aback for only a moment, eyes fluttering away in embarrassment. After swallowing, his gaze returns, despite being a little hardened, much to Crowley’s delight. He doesn’t want the eyes to go away.

 

“Don’t think flattery will spare you a scolding for your attitude.” Looking fully now at Crowley’s sated, lovestruck expression makes Aziraphale's eyes soften right back. “But thank you, darling. You look rather handsome yourself. Especially with those blasted glasses off for a change. Really, I don’t know why you bother. In this day and age, people are much more accepting of abnormalities in appearance. And your eyes truly are a sight to behold.”

 

It was Crowley’s turn to be taken aback. He grumbles and turns his head back to face ahead of them both.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Maybe I’ll leave them off more often.”

 

“Maybe you will.”

 

“Maybe I will!”

 

Aziraphale chuckles, a beautiful, heavenly sound, like ringing church bells. Crowley is done for. Silence passes between them, Crowley blatantly staring at the other once more. A few drops of snow fall between them, but Crowley can’t feel the biting atmosphere anymore. All he can feel is Aziraphale. Aziraphale is warm. Aziraphale is golden. Aziraphale is glowing. Aziraphale is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The words slip from his lips before he even thinks them.

 

“I love you.”

 

Throughout their relationship, Crowley hasn’t been one to say the words first. At least not with so much earnestness and sincerity in his voice. It was always the other who was more prone to that sort of thing.

 

Aziraphale stops them both in their tracks. Those glistening eyes now bore into Crowley’s own. For a moment, it feels scrutinizing, before the bewildered expression shifts into one of fond adoration. The swirling sky from before is reflected there in the angel’s blues.

 

“..I love you too, you knob.”

 

They stand there for a moment, gentle grins on their faces. Aziraphale’s eyes slide down between them. He locks the hand that isn’t holding a slinky waist with Crowley’s gloved hand, before looking back up through eyelashes that are beginning to gather bits of frost. A look like that should be against the law, Crowley thinks. Blasphemous, somehow.

 

“Now, can we please get a wiggle on before you start complaining again?”

 

With his angel looking like that, it’s impossible to say no. He doesn’t even comment on the silly word choice. He nods rather ungracefully and goes back to letting Aziraphale guide his wobbly legs across the icy pavement.

 

Together, they breathe in the chilly air and walk homeward. The rings on their fingers glimmer the same way their eyes do. Tomorrow, they’ll be awoken from their golden slumbers by more gentle smiles and sparkling lights. Together, they’ll put a tree up in the bookshop, and make sure every other festive shop window doesn’t hold a candle to their own. Together, they’ll bicker and complain at each other while simultaneously being wrapped around each other under a blanket by the fireplace, warm cocoa in their hands.

 

Together, they’ll be warm for every winter yet to come.

 

Together, they’ll glow.

 

 

 

Notes:

hope this didn’t make u too sick.
i know i said i’d never post again but how am i supposed to resist during christmas…..

song from the title is obviously from “golden slumbers” by the beatles but specifically this cover

https://youtu.be/zInbRvHL-oA?si=vRZNejW5sXrJE0-6

see you during the next full moon perhaps. happy holidays

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