Good Omens One Shots 1

Memory 7

The next morning Crowley awoke to a tangle of limbs, and surprisingly, they weren't his own. Aziraphale's head was buried in the crook of his neck and a leg was strewn over the serpent's torso while an arm was thrown across his chest possessively. The demon himself was just as entangled with the angel, one of his hands grabbing onto Aziraphale's forearm and his leg hooked around one of the angel's. Never in a million years would he have imagined ever waking up this way... yet it was perfect.

From what he remembered, Aziraphale didn't sleep. The angel he remembered much rather be curled around a book or a cup of tea than venture into the unconscious. He had never expected — and was never going to push — him to try it. Which made this experience all the more thrilling. The angel's small snores and the warmth of his body against his, was giving the demon a blissful high. He couldn't believe this was real, that they were married.

Crowley grinned and shifted so he could have a better grip on the angel, pulling him closer. He could stay like this forever. Just the feel, the smell, and everything else was perfect. His other arm snaked up Aziraphale's torso to the tangled mess of blond curls on the angel's head. Gently, he massaged and just let himself drink it all in, enjoying the contented sighs of Aziraphale relaxing ever so much more against his body. They seemed to meld together with each little stroke and touch that at some point he didn't know where his body ended and the angels began.

It was probably about an hour later that Aziraphale finally began to stir. There was a shift in the angel's body as their legs disentangled.

Crowley, still in a daze and riding a high of the angel being this close to him grumbled at the movement. Why couldn't they lie together just a little longer?

"Mornin," Aziraphale whispered gruffly into Crowley's ear.

Oh. The demon could have lived in that moment, everything just felt so perfect. He wrapped himself tighter around the angel, never wanting to let him go.

Aziraphale sighed pleasantly, "I missed you."

Crowley chuckled, "I've been here the whole time."

"No, I meant I missed this." Aziraphale corrected, a hand drifting up to the nape of the demon's neck to play with the hairs there.

Crowley shivered at the touch, "Why- why didn't you tell me? You knew I have loved you forever. Waking up like this would have been... shocking but not unwelcome."

Aziraphale shook his head, "I didn't know for sure. We... We never talked about that."

"We never talked about how long I've been in love with you?" He asked bewildered. That didn't seem like something he would leave out.

The angel sighed as if mourning the past, "The first few years after the apocalypse I was rather... delicate. Well... erratic is probably a better term for it. I wouldn't have been able to handle that you had been in love with me for so long. I could barely even say the words myself."

The demon pulled back to look at the angel in his watery blue eyes. There was so much that he didn't understand about his own past and their journey together. He didn't remember the troubles and bad times. He didn't even remember the good times. Let alone the fact that he had just found out they were married less than twenty-four hours ago, and he was already criticizing how Azirpahale handled it. The one pair out of the two of them that actually remembered their past.

His hands stilled from where they were tracing patterns into Aziraphale's back. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay my love." the angel whispered, a look of bliss overtaking his features as he shivered, "It does feel good to say that again... love."