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A Bedtime Story

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Aziraphale was growing accustomed to sleeping, or at least going to bed alongside Crowley.  He would catch up on his light reading and Crowley would snuggle up to him--sometimes with his head in Aziraphale’s lap, which made reading quite difficult--until he fell asleep. Then the angel would gently move his head off his lap and tuck him in.  He would then either stay up to read more, or even shut his own eyes and drift until morning.

This lovely bedtime routine was periodically disrupted, however.

Aziraphale discovered that Crowley went through manic episodes that could last for weeks.  During these periods the demon wanted to let off steam, party at all hours, going out on the town and pestering the angel to go along with him.  Aziraphale attributed it to pent up demonic energy.  Crowley had never bothered to expend the same effort as other demons.  Unlike his fellow coworkers in the field, Crowley was not about to spend an entire day out tempting priests to sin or stirring up fights amongst humans. 

Still, that demonic energy had to go somewhere and so Crowley would have his periodic “rampages,” as the angel called them. 

The problem was that Crowley both liked and needed to sleep, and he became irritable over time if his sleep cycle was thrown off. Toward the end of his periodic rampages Aziraphale was then forced to cope with a sleep-deprived grumpy demon, at least until he settled down again.  Not to mention that it robbed the angel of precious reading time.  He had to put an end to it.

 

This particular Friday, Crowley was ramping up again.  The demon and angel had stayed up late into the night drinking and talking after a night on the town.  As they sat at the kitchen table enjoying the last of their third bottle of wine (of which Crowley had drunk two bottles to Aziraphale’s one), Aziraphale suggested it was time for bed.  He really wanted to finish reading a chapter of his latest novel. 

Crowley insisted on more wine.

They sat a few minutes more, Crowley bouncing his leg with nervous energy until he suddenly jumped up, nearly knocking his chair over as he did so. 

“Angel, let’s go out on the town.  The night’s still young!”

Aziraphale groaned. This nonsense was going to end tonight. It was time to act on his plan.

“Crowley, it’s one o’clock in the morning.  I would like to get in some reading before bed.”

The demon rolled his eyes dramatically and stomped his feet.  “C’mon Aziraphale. Don’t be so boring.  It’sss time to party!”

“My dear, really! Your sleep cycle is thrown utterly out of whack.  You simply cannot run about every night, all night, dragging me with you. After your periodic rampages, I then have to put up with your crankiness—and then you simply hibernate for days to recover. 

Fortunately, I have the perfect solution for you.  I have been reading about the importance of sleep hygiene and bedtime routines.  Tonight I’m going to read you a bedtime story.”

Crowley laughed and when he saw the angel was serious, simply stared at him open-jawed. “Bedtime story?” he repeated incredulously.  “Bedtime story?  Did I hear you right, angel?  I’m not a child.  I want to go have some fun,” he whined.

“Crowley,” said the angel sternly, “I’m very serious about this. You are very much like an overwrought child who doesn’t know when it needs to go to bed, and you need to relax so that you can regulate your sleep cycle. Listening to someone read to you is excellent for that sort of thing.  Besides, I picked out a lovely story especially for you.” 

He threw Crowley his best baby blue puppy eyes, knowing perfectly well how they affected the demon.  “Look, just go up to bed with me and have a listen, and if you still must go running about town then you can leave.”

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically and grumbled about fussy angels and party poopers.  Aziraphale ignored his complaints and managed to coax him into his black silk pajamas while he donned his own brushed cotton ones with little clouds and birds on them. 

Crowley looked at the angel in his pajamas and reached over to snap the top of his pajama bottoms.  “We could do something else in bed, you know,” and he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.”

“Crowley, no.  You need to get some proper sleep—you know how you get without it.  But don’t worry, I have the perfect bedtime story picked out.”

“Oh, all right, angel.  I’ll humor you for a bit.”

They entered the bedroom and Crowley hung his mouth open.  Aziraphale had miracled their perfectly normal king size bed into a fancy four poster bed with a rich red velvet canopy and curtains around it.

“Whass all this, then?”

“I read that the environment of the room is very important for sleep.  This makes one feel cocooned, surrounded by the lovely fabric and no distractions.”

Aziraphale climbed into bed and patted the spot next to him.  “Come on, now.  Climb up next to me and I’ll read you a lovely soothing story.”

“But really, angel, I’m not sleepy.  I want to go out…”  He pouted like a child, and Aziraphale told him he was acting like one.

“I am not!”

Aziraphale tried not to laugh at him. 

“Come on, dearest.  Try it for me.”

“Oh, all right then.  I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try to get better sleep. But just for a bit and then I’m going out again if this silly book thing doesn’t work.” 

He couldn’t very well just crush the angel’s feelings when he’d gone to all the trouble with the canopy bed and all.

He climbed up next to Aziraphale, who snapped his fingers to close the bed curtains.  Now they were snug in their velvety environment, and the angel had miracled just enough light on his own side to read by. There was a leather bound book on Aziraphale’s side, and also a little lacquered and engraved chest which sat on the floor on his side of the bed.

“Whassat?,” asked Crowley, yawning, having never seen the engraved black chest before. 

“You know, I must be a little more tired than I thought,” admitted Crowley.  As soon as he’d clambered into bed and pulled the covers up, he felt his energy drain.  He still felt nerved up, but his limbs were tired.  “I feel kind of weak.  Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Aziraphale chuckled and patted his arm.

“What are you laughing at?” snapped Crowley. “I feel funny.”

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he said, struggling to stop laughing.  “I couldn’t think of another way. I must confess I’ve done a sneaky thing. I’ve infused the bed with just enough angelic energy to dampen your powers a bit. As long as you are here in bed with me, you only have the strength and speed of a regular human,” he said with a wicked little grin, his blue eyes glinting.  “A harmless watered-down sort of demon trap, if you will, for your own good.  And if you decide to clamber off, I must remind you that I am quite a bit faster than a human, though I may not look it.

You see, I’d been thinking how I might pay you back for that little trick with the snake venom not long ago.  Now I can have a bit of revenge and remedy your sleep problem. I must admit I’m quite proud of my own creativity.  Don’t fret, darling, we’re still going to have our story time.”

Crowley’s eyes widened.

“Wha—you tricked me, angel.  You bloody tricked me!  And all this, still just to read aloud?  Well,” he added defiantly, “I’m still strong enough and I’m going out!”

But Crowley could feel his lack of strength now that he tried to clamber off.  He was slow, and his corporation felt as weak as a human child.  He started to crawl to the edge of the bed and scramble away, but before he could get far, Aziraphale had quickly pulled a pair of handcuffs from the fancy black chest, while grabbing one of Crowley’s ankles to keep him put.  Then he straddled the annoyed demon—who actually hissed at him—and easily grabbed his hands, pulling them in front of him and cuffing him.

He tried to rise up again, but his efforts were clumsy between his weakened powers, the handcuffs and the springiness of the mattress.  “Dammit, angel—I mean, bless it! I want to go out, not be trapped in bed and read to!”

“Stop fussing, Crowley. This is for your own good, and you’ll thank me later.  Now—time for our story.  Oh, but you were wondering about my little toy chest here, weren't you? Do you know I visited the local library this week?  One of the librarians was reading a book to the children.  It was marvelous. She had puppets and toys that she used to make it a more interactive experience.  She pulled all these things out of a toy box to help tell the story. I thought I’d do the same, darling. Won’t that be fun?”

“No,” he pouted, yellow eyes narrowed.  “Angel, stop being ridiculous and let me out of these things.”  He tugged and pulled at the cuffs, emitting growls and hisses while the angel watched with amusement.

“Now I must warn you, dear, one or two of the toys in my little basket are not for fun, they are for discipline.  If you disrupt my story time, I’m afraid I’ll have to use them.  I want no interruptions. Understood?”

“Oh, for Heav—for Hell’s—get on with it, then.”
“Very good.  Here we go.”

 

The Prince’s Captive

 

“Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a golden haired prince who lived in a beautiful castle.  His name was Prince Azra. He was a kind and just prince, with one exception.  He could not abide unruliness in his household.  He treated his servants very well, but if one of them misbehaved or shirked his duties, he was swiftly punished.  One of his favorite servants was Antonius, his coachman.  He had fiery red hair, and he drove a black coach—”

 

“Hang on! This isn’t even a real story,” interrupted Crowley.  “Golden haired Prince Azra and his red headed servant?  Antonius the coachman?  Come on, angel. A bit on the nose, isn’t it? And besides, why is Antonius a servant?” he frowned.  “Antonius should be another prince!”

Aziraphale heaved a large sigh and put the ribbon marker in the book.  “Now what did I say about interruptions?  I’ve barely begun and you’re already acting out. I can see we need a bit of discipline already.”

He reached into the mysterious box and pulled out a wooden paddle.  “I’m very sorry, but I’m going to have to give you a spanking.  Now pull down your pajamas and come lay over my lap.”  He patted his lap and looked expectantly at the disobedient demon.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed.  “Come off it, I’m not going over your lap for a paddling!” the demon growled.

“Is that so?  You naughty thing! Then I’m going to turn you over my lap myself.  And you know your restraints are going to make it difficult to get away from me.”

 “Shackles aren’t going to keep me in bed.  If you think—”

Aziraphale chuckled briefly. “Well, my dear, they aren’t shackles, exactly.  Don’t be so dramatic.”   

“This is playing dirty, angel.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

The angel pulled the demon back by the legs and positioned him over his lap.  Now that Crowley’s powers were dampened, Aziraphale was incredibly strong by comparison.  The angel slowly, methodically pulled Crowley’s pajama bottoms off.  Crowley felt a rush of cool air as his bare bottom was exposed.

You know the safe word, my dear.  Remember it?”

“Of course I remember,” he snapped.  “I don’t need a safe word. I need you to let me go!”

 He tried again to push himself off his lap to get away.  Aziraphale easily pulled him back and firmly pressed his back down, leaving his nice firm bum exposed and on his lap.

“Now that’s very naughty,” he said, giving his bottom a sharp smack with his open hand.  He rubbed and petted the firm, round buttocks as if he were petting a dog.  “I’m sorry, darling, but you need to learn to behave.”  He took the paddle and brought it down on his bottom with a loud smack.  Crowley flinched and bit his lip, determined not to cry out.  Smack! He brought the paddle down again, and despite himself Crowley let out a little “mmmph.”  He wriggled and tried to clench his buttocks and maneuver away from the paddle.  Aziraphale scolded him.  “Keep that bottom up and thighs a bit open, or you’ll be getting worse than this,” he said.  Crowley thrust his bottom up.  The paddle came down again and again, on one cheek and then the other, until his bottom was burning.  He knew his bum must be bright red by now.  It was humiliating and it stung terribly, and what was worse, he was getting hard.  He wasn’t sure which was more humiliating, having his bare bottom paddled or having the angel notice his arousal.  He willed himself not to grind into his lap as he was spanked.

Finally Aziraphale smoothed his hands over the demon’s sore bottom, lightly stroking his burning flesh.  “There now.  Nicely pink. Are you going to settle down now for your story like a good demon?”

He gave him a good hard slap with his open hand.  Despite himself, Crowley’s eyes watered at the pain. 

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“What’s that, dear?  I need you to use your words and tell me whether or not you’re going to behave for story time.”

“I’ll behave,” he said, pouting and wishing there weren’t tears in his eyes. 

“There’s my good boy.  I’m going to help you off my lap over now onto your poor sore bottom, and I shall resume our story.”

Crowley rolled over, and Aziraphale finished pulling off the pajama bottoms.  He then helped him reposition himself on the mattress with his head on the pillow.  He was now completely exposed from the waist down and sporting an erection.  He was blushing hotly, red even for a demon.

“Tsk, tsk,” said Aziraphale, smirking at his upright cock.  “All worked up just from our little spanking?  That’s too bad, because we have our whole story to finish.” Aziraphale reached over and gave the demon’s hard cock a playful little pull.  It made Crowley whine, and Aziraphale smiled at him almost sympathetically.  “And I’d better not see you fidgeting while I read because I have some other toys in my box that I would love to put to use.  Now where was I?  Oh yes…”

 

One of the prince’s favorite servants was Antonius, his coachman.  He had fiery red hair, and beautiful eyes, and he drove the prince wherever he wanted to go in fine, shiny black carriage. He also gave the prince much pleasure in bed whenever he demanded it. But one day, Antonius drove the carriage much too fast for Prince Azra and nearly wrecked the carriage due to his carelessness.  So that very night, Antonius found himself naked and chained to the prince’s bed. 

“My prince, why have you chained me like a slave?” asked the coachman.

“You’ve been careless, and so I’ve decided to teach you some discipline,” said the prince.  And he brought out the paddle, and spanked Antonius’ lovely bare bottom until it was as red as a lobster.

 

“You see, my dear, we’ve already done that part.  I’m so proud of you,” the angel said, bending over and planting a kiss on the demon’s forehead as one would kiss a child.  “I told you this was an interactive story.   Oh, but what’s this?” he said in mock surprise, and read on: 

 

He looked at Antonius and saw that he was not sufficiently chastised and in fact he’d become aroused by his punishment.  So the prince had to devise a new punishment.  He decided to give Antonius what he wanted so badly, but just a little bit.  So, he ordered his careless servant to pleasure himself as he watched, but not to completion.  ‘If you come before I say so, you’re going to get worse than a paddling,’ he told him.”

The prince then ordered Antonius to grasp his long, stiff cock and stroke it.  He smiled as he watched his servant pleasure himself this way, yet struggle not to climax. 

“He stroked himself firmly as the prince watched, fingering the tip and then stroking down the length, over and over.  He tried to be obedient, but the cruel prince did not allow him to stop.  Soon the servant’s moans grew more desperate, until at last he could not stop himself.  He arched up as he orgasmed, his hot seed spilling over himself as he cried out—

 

Crowley was growing harder, his long cock leaking as he squirmed.  The angel closed the book and smiled affectionately at the demon. 

“All right, my dear.  Let’s see you then.  And I hope you can do better than poor Antonius because you are not to come unless you want me to get another toy from the box.  Go on, I want to see how you play with yourself. And spread those legs. I want you to start by massaging your balls and then stroking that long, lovely cock.”  Crowley spread his legs as he was told.  Aziraphale took the book and moved toward the foot of the bed sitting between Crowley’s spread legs so that the demon was completely exposed to him.

Crowley had never exactly been shy in the bedroom, but being asked to perform while being watched in such a clinical fashion made him want to cover himself.  At the same time, he was impossibly aroused by it. 

“Now,” said the angel.  “Entertain me. And remember, you are not to come until I say so.  We’re following along with our story.”

The demon reached down with his manacled hands and fondled himself, massaging his balls lightly, still with that mixture of shame and utter arousal.  He was panting with need now.  The words leer and angel didn’t go together but bless it if Aziraphale wasn’t leering at him. Crowley tried to suppress a moan but couldn’t as he cupped and circled his balls.

“You can do better,” chided the angel.  “Let’s see you play with that lovely hard cock.”

The angel waved his hand and Crowley’s pajama top disappeared, so that now he was completely nude.

“Much better….Well?” said Aziraphale.  “Go on.”

“But angel, if I—I can’t without coming—”

“You had better, my dear.  Now I’m getting impatient.  Go ahead and take care of that beautiful long cock and I will play with your balls.”

Crowley grasped himself and began stroking while Aziraphale cupped his balls, gently kneading and rubbing them.  His cock was already weeping with droplets of pre-cum and he didn’t know how long he could keep this up without coming.  He panted and moaned, quickly losing control. as he felt his climax building. “Please, angel,” he breathed, “I can’t hold on, I’m gonna—mmmfff—oh, fuck..”

With a cry he spasmed, spilling his hot seed all over his belly and his hand as Aziraphale watched, eyes gleaming with lust but his mouth set in a hard line.

Aziraphale grabbed his hands from his cock and slapped it away.  “What did I tell you?” he scolded.  “Now look at the mess you’ve made.  I want you to lick your hand clean right now.  If you clean every drop from your hands, I will help you with the rest.”  He smiled magnanimously.

Crowley scowled and pouted but dutifully licked his hands clean, at first hating the taste of his own salty, sticky cum, then quickly getting used to the taste.  When he was all done cleaning his hands, he looked expectantly at Aziraphale, thrusting his hips up suggestively, hoping the angel would lick his belly and cock clean.  Instead the angel merely waved his hand and miracled the mess away without touching him.  Crowley growled in frustration and the angel laughed.

“Oh, darling, you simply have no self control,” the angel chided.  “You sound like an animal.  Look at you trying to tempt me to lick your cock.” He regarded him with a look of pity and sighed. 

“Very well, just a few licks then.”  Aziraphale leaned over and took Crowley’s cock, now soft and very sensitive, and sucked the tip into his mouth.  He worked his full lips over it and circled it with his tongue, noting with amusement how little it took for the demon to start growing hard again.  As soon as he began shifting and squirming, the angel drew away.

“You are a naughty demon, tempting me to suck your cock like that.  I suppose you think you’re as cunning as a fox.  Well, you are going to be patient and listen as I continue with our tale.”

Crowley was aching for the angel to finish him off, but he knew better than to react.  He forced himself to be still.

 

….after cleaning himself completely, Antonius still wanted to be touched and fondled by his prince, but his punishment was not over.  The prince had enjoyed his servant’s display, but he decided that if his servant was going to behave like a wild animal, then he would treat him as such.  And so the prince forced his poor servant to kneel as he brought out his black velvet box containing all kinds of plugs, some with jewels and some with animal tails.  He chose one with the tail of a fox.  ‘Now you will look like the animal you are,’ he said, and he spread Antonius’ still red cheeks apart.  He took his finger and smoothed oil all over his servant’s tight opening, and watched as oil dripped down.  He took some of the excess oil and smoothed it over his sore bottom, then he gently inserted the animal tail.  He gave it a gentle tug to make sure it was snugly in place, then gave him a good smack on the bottom.  Antonius moaned, wanting to be filled with more than a toy.

 

As Aziraphale read, Crowley became more and more aroused and was desperate now, hard again and dying to be touched.  “Please, angel, this is torture.”

“Stop that whining,” scolded Aziraphale.  “You are just like Antonius in our story.  Let’s see what we can find in our toy box this time so we can play along with the tale, so to speak. Forgive the pun, my dear.”  He made a show of digging around and finally produced a small glass plug with a soft, bushy red fox tail.  He took it and swept the tail down Crowley’s belly. Then he caressed his belly and bent down to kiss it, just missing his cock.  He took the fox tail toy and swirled it over and around his cock, tickling and teasing, and finally planting several little kisses on the tip.  The demon was aching for release again, fearing he might orgasm untouched.

“Hands and knees, darling,” the angel ordered.  “I shall take away the handcuffs but if you try to get away you will be whipped,” he warned. 

He miracled the cuffs off and Crowley obediently got onto all fours, thrusting his still sore bottom up for Aziraphale to access.  The angel took a little bottle of oil and put a generous amount on his hands.  He massaged the oil onto the demon’s buttocks, rubbing him and then pouring a bit more onto his plump fingers and working it all around his entrance.  It was torture as Crowley struggled between the pain of his sore bottom and the pleasure of being stroked and massaged with the oil.  The angel spread more of it on the toy and then placed the tip at Crowley’s entrance.  The demon eagerly thrust his ass up, waiting to be entered.  The angel then slowly and smoothly inserted the plug just as the Prince had done to his servant in the story.  He tugged at the tail gently a few times, making the demon moan.

“I should take a picture of you like that, darling.  You look just like a fox.  Well, with snake eyes, that is,” he chuckled.  “Now you be good and stay just like that.  You’ve made me very hard, my dear, and I need a bit of service.” 

Aziraphale came around and knelt in front of Crowley, pulling his flannel bottoms down just enough to pull out his thick cock.  He let Crowley watch him stroke it a few times so that it grew even harder.  Then, he grabbed fistfuls of beautiful soft red hair and pulled his mouth onto it.  Crowley took it all in, looking up at Aziraphale with his lovely yellow eyes, strangely excited yet humiliated at sucking him with a tailed plug in his ass. 

Then abruptly Aziraphale pulled out and bent down to kiss him.  “I’m going to fuck you now, but first a little reward,” he whispered into Crowley’s ear, making him shudder.  He nipped his ear playfully as he ran his fingers through his hair.  “I’m going to give you a choice, because you’ve been such a good boy for me.  Would you like me to milk your cock until you come, or shall I fuck you from behind and let you rut into the pillows until you come?”

Crowley made a noise between a whine and a groan.  “I want both, please,” he said pleadingly.

Aziraphale chuckled delightedly.  “I don’t think you’ll last that long, dearest.  But we shall see.”

He made Crowley stay on all fours as he came around behind him. 

“Spread your legs more.”  The demon obeyed eagerly.

Aziraphale tugged playfully at the fox tail and then pulled it gently out. “We need this out of the way, don’t we?”  He then used well oiled hands to reach under and cup Crowley’s balls with one hand, and took his cock in his other hand, squeezing and pulling it firmly but gently, driving the demon mad.  Soon he began leaking pre-cum and he couldn’t help but moan wantonly.  Then suddenly the hands were gone and he groaned in frustration through gritted teeth.  “Nnnghh.”

“Shhh, it’s all right, baby,” soothed the angel.

“But ‘Zira…”

Aziraphale grabbed several big pillows and plumped them up, then pushed the frustrated demon gently down over them, so that his head rested down on the bed and his round, firm bottom jutted up at the perfect angle.  Crowley couldn’t help grind his erection into the pillows.

“Stop that,” ordered Aziraphale. He gave him another sound smack on his sore rump.  “You’ll come too soon.”

“But angel—” he whined.

“None of that, now.  I want you to be still, or you’ll have to go to bed with nothing more inside you.  Now, I think you need to be soundly fucked and fucked hard, so be good.”

Then Crowley felt the tip of the angel’s cock pushing at his entrance, and he resisted the urge to thrust back.  Aziraphale stopped maddeningly for a moment, and Crowley whined in frustration.

“All right,” he murmured, working his hands over Crowley’s bottom and spreading his cheeks.  “I know.  You’re trying your best to be so good.  Here it comes, baby.”  He entered him in one smooth thrust, and once he was fully sheathed he began pumping in a steady rhythm.  Crowley knew he was moaning like a whore, he couldn’t help himself.  Aziraphale filled him completely and every thrust hit his sweet spot.  The angel’s moans joined his, and as he was being pounded from behind, his own hard cock rutted into the pillows and they came together in one final overwhelming orgasm.

The angel pulled out, cleaning away the mess with a snap of his fingers.  A wave of his hand and Crowley and he were both fully garbed in soft pajamas again, black with little red pitchforks for the demon and white with blue harps for himself.

They were both sated and tired, and Aziraphale was satisfied to see that Crowley was yawning and rubbing his eyes, ready for a decent night’s sleep at last.  His bedtime method had worked.

“Let’s get you tucked into bed, dearest.”  He pulled the soft blanket all around the demon and tucked him into it, then kissed his forehead and nestled next to him.

“’Ziraphale,” he mumbled.  “What about the rest of the story?”

 Aziraphale’s chest fairly ached, blooming with affection as he cuddled the demon next to him.  He looked for all the world like an overgrown sleepy child, yawning at him with his mussed red hair and asking for more story time.

“I’ll just skip to the end, dearest.  It’s time to sleep, after all:

Then, after they were both spent, Antonius revealed his true identity to Prince Azra saying, ‘I have not been honest with you, my Prince.  I am actually Prince Antonius, and I am the ruler of a faraway nation, one that lies across a great distance.  But I have been happy here with you. Our countries are enemies and sadly, we can never be together unless I remain disguised.’

‘Perhaps we could go and rule our own land together,’ said Prince Azra.  ‘You and I shall go make our own happiness, far from our native lands. Let them bicker, we shall live in peace and make love day and night.’

And so they did, and they lived happily ever after.”

“But the story doesn’t make sense,” muttered Crowley, knitting his brow.

Aziraphale gently took his soft fingers and rubbed gently between his demon’s lovely snake eyes, smoothing away the furrows until his lids grew heavy and he snuggled himself into the angel’s arms.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t quite make sense.  But neither does our story, dear.  Yet both tales have a happy ending, don’t you think?”

“Mm hmm,” Crowley mumbled. “‘S’like the story was written just for us.” Crowley smiled contentedly as his eyes closed. At last he drifted off to sleep.  Aziraphale smoothed his hair and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“Yes, just so, dear.  Amazing, isn’t it?” he whispered.

Then Aziraphale carefully reached for the book, which was only a leather bound dictionary he’d pulled off the reference shelf, and put it back on his nightstand.  He waved the lamp off and snuggled under the covers next to the slumbering demon and they settled down for the night.

 

The End