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The next time Aziraphale climbed into the Bentley, something had changed. The seat gently yielded under his weight, softly supporting his hips as he settled. While it hadn’t exactly been uncomfortable before, the leather certainly hadn’t been this supple, or the lumbar support this substantial. His eyes grew heavy. “Mmmm."
“Must have been some lunch if you’re still making those sounds in the car,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale rolled his shoulders back into the seat and felt it mold to a perfect fit. “Lunch was wonderful, my darling. But this car!” he gave a little wiggle and sighed contentedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so comfortable before.”
“You’ve been in the Bentley plenty of times.”
“Yes, but.” Aziraphale paused to yawn. “Goodness, this is cozy. Do you think Adam made some enhancements, when he reset the world?”
“None that I’ve noticed, and none I’d want. It’s already a perfect fit.”
The seat beneath Aziraphale began to warm, suffusing him with the sort of relaxation he found most often in a steaming mug of cocoa taken in an equally steamy bath. He gave another contented hum. “Surely the seat warmers are new.”
“The Bentley hasn’t got seat warmers.”
“I think it might, if you ask nicely.”
Crowley glanced at him. “Well aren’t you two just the dearest friends.”
Aziraphale laughed. “I’m not sure if you’re jealous of me, or the car, or both!”
Crowley reached for his hand. “Both, angel. Definitely both.”
“Oh my, what shall we do about that?”
Crowley sighed theatrically. “Take the long way back to the bookshop, I suppose.”
“That will do nicely,” Aziraphale murmured. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.
--
To Crowley, the Bentley was less a car than a sort of whole body glove. Simply driving it again was enough. But to have Aziraphale asleep next to him as he drove, to have the Bentley hold the angel with the same reverence with which Crowley would hold him when given the chance? That was everything.