(no subject)

[un_fallen]

Morning sunlight creeps gently through a crack between the curtains, illuminating a table, a comfortable-looking chair, a soft rug on the floor. And somehow, it manages to seek out the one position in the room where it can sweetly illuminate a single, peacefully slumbering face.



"Mngk."

He squints without actually opening his eyes, and flails slightly in discomfort. One hand makes contact with something very close by that's solid and faintly warm. Unthinking, Raguel rolls toward it and buries his head in the corner between Warm Thing and the mattress, escaping the nefarious sunbeam.

That's better.

Comments

[aj_crawley]

"Hm?"

A groggy set of slit-pupilled eyes come into view, followed by the rest of Crowley's face as he tugs the blanket down a little (and then immediately looks as though he regrets it).

He tries to get his elbows under him, but evidently, that's going to require a bit more work.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael's arm slides behind Crowley's back, helping him get just that fraction more vertical while ensuring blankets stay safely tucked.

"Ah good, you're up," and doesn't he sound quite ridiculously delighted? "Can I tempt you to a little tea?"

It's not just Aziraphael being Aziraphael, you know. Warm, sweet liquids are recommended. It's entirely possible he could have phrased that in more accessible a manner though, really.

[aj_crawley]

He nods, wincing at the light in the room and at the shrill protest of stiff muscles as he moves.

An unhealthy pallor still suffusing his face, and dark circles under his eyes, Crowley looks - well, at the moment, he looks like nothing so much as though he's suffering the world's worst hangover.

[un_fallen]

"You'll have to let us know if this cures you," he says lightly, though his expression is anything but.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael carefully plumps up the pillows behind Crowley's back before turning away to fetch him a cup of tea, really quite heavily sweetened.

"Of course it will. Tea is the universal panacea."

[aj_crawley]

Crowley... isn't pleased to discover he can't hold the cup steady.

Not surprised - some of what medical practitioners delicately like to call 'lasting damage' is all but assured, with severe hypothermia. And not devastated - what medical practitioners like to call 'lasting damage'... isn't, not when you're a demon.

But he's not pleased.

Still, they fumble along, and he manages at least a few good swallows before he needs to stop.

[un_fallen]

"Well, it did get you sitting upright, mostly," he says, looking sidelong at Crowley. He takes the cup as Crowley leans back and puts it on the table so that Aziraphael can help him down again.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael fusses with pillows and blankets and all that sort of thing, because having some measure of control is reassuring.

"All right?" very quietly.

[aj_crawley]

"Yes."

And it is unutterably good to have something warm inside him, and his mouth and lips no longer quite so dry.

"Yes."

It's making his eyelids heavy again.

[un_fallen]

Raguel sighs, relaxing just a little further. Briefly considers taking off again. But really, it is pretty comfortable here.

Maybe later, he thinks as he lies down again. I'll get up in just a few minutes.

And minutes tick by. But after just a few, the only sound in the room is that of soft, even breathing.