Work Text:
Crowley
Crowley was pretending to be asleep. Aziraphale was quite insistent that he rest, rest, rest. He had, after all, just given birth two days ago. Crowley was exhausted, sore in a dozen places, including his entire bottom and his tits, and utterly in love with his new family. He’d been having a difficult time falling asleep since the birth because he didn’t want to miss a minute with their new baby. He was on just this side of obsessed with Aziraphale’s transformation into fatherhood - a fascinating and beautiful process that he felt honored to watch as it unfolded.
It was very early morning and the sunshine outside was new and tender, casting an easy glow throughout the bedroom. Crowley estimated he had gotten a good 40 solid minutes of sleep since he last nursed - his longest stretch in nearly a day. He’d awoken just now to the sounds of a snuffling baby who was ready to fuss, but was being soothed by the deep baritone of their Papa’s voice. Through the tiny slivers in his eyelids he watched as Aziraphale cradled their sweet baby, lightly kissing their forehead and smoothing down the feathery strawberry blonde wisps that insisted on sticking up. He began to carefully unsnap the poppers of their star-speckled babygrow, a feat both parents found more daunting than they had expected at times. Still, Crowley welcomed every challenging moment.
His eyes were drawn to the two faces acknowledging each other. Aziraphale was bright and sunny as always, a new light in his eyes and a smile filled with unlimited joy. The baby studied their Papa, eyes wide and face now relaxed, if not curious. Crowley never thought his heart would melt the way it currently was at the sound of Aziraphale whispering promises of a clean bum and a new tidy nappy, but here he was. A puddle. Just as they had been in his belly, the baby was drawn to the sound of Aziraphale’s voice, intently focusing on him, instantly soothed. Who could blame them? Crowley had been soothed by the same voice since they were side by side in the heavens.
Aziraphale’s hands carefully removed the babygrow and diligently worked on the nappy. He’d become more adept at this process in the last day, though there weren't too many wet nappies as they were still in the colostrum phase. Crowley had explained to the angel that the baby would only have a few nappy changes until his milk comes in. Then, it will be showtime. Aziraphale easily adapted to the rapid changes - his steady demeanor taking over and creating a calm and supportive environment for everyone. He thrived in his new role as a Papa, his guardian nature shining through in every action and word. Crowley was proud of Aziraphale and hoped the angel realized how astounding he was in this new role. He was made for it.
Crowley was also proud of himself. He’d fully cooked a whole baby and brought them earthside with the might of his own body. It was a fact that he repeated over and over in his head in recent days, still unsure if he believed he did all that. Then again, any uncertainty would be challenged by the soreness and bleeding at his center. Crowley had been filled with a sense of gratitude that he was able to experience it all. He wouldn’t take any of it back - not the uncomfortable healing process now or the agony he felt in labor and certainly not any of the highs and lows of his pregnancy. He found his mind frequently wandering to the floor of the bookshop washroom, where he had fallen the moment he laid eyes on his positive pregnancy tests, too scared to believe a life could grow inside of him even though it had been what he was desperately searching for. He had believed that he damned all three of them in that moment, unaware that he’d experience that same rejected and broken body transform itself and then break him apart to bring this amazing creature into their world.
Aziraphale had been there with him on the floor that day. He held him and carried him, just as he has always done. Crowley could not possibly imagine getting through pregnancy without his angel. Watching Aziraphale transform in his new role has been one of Crowley's favorite experiences in his existence. Just as it’s always been, the angel’s faith in him had kept him going during those early difficult times. Crowley felt a lump in his throat at the memory of Aziraphale from just days ago as he had gently and faithfully supported the demon through his long labor, how his eyes were the source of hope and comfort the demon needed in the moments when he felt he couldn't go on.
He considered the hands of his angel, now donning a new babygrow - this one with a zipper and a whimsical forest creature print - onto their freshly-changed baby. Fingers lightly danced over a tiny belly, dried umbilical stump still attached, before zipping the suit all the way closed. These same hands had held a flaming sword and fought battles humans could never dare to dream of. They broke through walls and tossed stone like it was a feather. They healed the sick and offered comfort in times of despair. They were the hands that wiped Crowley’s tears and caressed him time and again - nimble fingers that had finally explored parts of Crowley that he had never thought would be able to be touched. They had cradled Crowley’s head the moment they conceived their child. Aziraphale’s hands held Crowley’s own, supporting his surge of demonic strength, as he struggled to push their baby out. Those fingers had been the first to touch their baby before holding Crowley’s hands to guide that magnificent creature out of him.
Aziraphale was now sitting down, leaning himself back onto the nest of pillows against the headboard, their baby comfortably snuggled on his chest. The angel was still in his pyjamas, buttons undone so the baby could lay close to his skin. He dipped his chin down to lay more kisses onto that sweet little red head, one strong hand over their back. Content with their fresh diaper and the softness of their Papa, they slowly closed their eyes and dozed. For a brief moment, Crowley’s mind flashed in the same way it had for all of his visions during pregnancy and he saw a different redhead cradled to Aziraphale’s chest, which was full and heavy with milk. In the same instant it was gone and he was back in the bed with this baby, safely cradled with Papa, whose other arm stretched out to reach Crowley, fingers softly carding through his hair.
Crowley let his eyes flutter open to meet Aziraphale’s and they shared a smile. He began to shimmy closer and the angel met him halfway. Crowley snuggled into Aziraphale’s hip and let himself be lulled back to sleep with the feel of fingers gently swirling on his scalp
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Aziraphale
Aziraphale noticed the little wiggles of a stirring newborn, who had been cuddled up next to a sleeping Crowley. He reached to pick them up, taking a long breath of that sweet baby scent at their head. Other scents told him this wee one needed a fresh nappy.
“Let’s get you freshened up, my dearest angel.” Aziraphale whispered lightly. He had hoped that this would be enough to soothe a fussy baby so that Crowley could get just a little more sleep. Crowley had warned Aziraphale that the second night was usually one of the hardest and that had certainly proven true. He’d been up every hour overnight as the baby’s fussy demands for the mighty elixir of colostrum had increased. A sign, Crowley told him, that the demon’s milk would likely come in fairly soon.
“How does a nice clean bum and a tidy nappy sound, hmm?”
He carefully attended to the infernal poppers that peppered the length of the babygrow before undoing their vest and reaching the nappy. With a skilled precision he’d developed in only the last day, he removed the offending nappy and replaced it with a new one. He danced fingertips on the adorable little belly. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was meant to completely change the newborn’s outfit, so he erred on the side of caution and dressed them in a new vest and babygrow, opting for one with a zipper this time. He cooed at the face in front of him, locking his eyes to the beauties that were carefully examining him. A spark of eternal and determined curiosity was aglow within them, just like their Daddy.
Aziraphale marveled at the ways this adorable little being was the perfect blend of both of them, a testament to the fact that it truly had been both of their essences that created this miracle. Just one look at them and there was no denying that they were made up of parts of both the angel and demon. Their hair had been the first clue all those months ago when he and Crowley had separate visions of their child. Later ultrasounds were another clue about how much like them this baby would look - Crowley’s reaction to the 20 week ultrasound was forever knitted to his heart - and now that they were here there was confirmation that whatever process had created this miracle managed to take equal parts of each of them.
"There we are now. Fresh as a field of daisies," he said, picking up the baby and kissing their cheek. He sat back down, leaning up against pillows, letting the baby lay on his chest. Crowley was faking sleep - he could see the occasional glimmer of gold through his lashes. Aziraphale hoped he would truly doze soon. He needed the sleep to heal.
The angel occasionally felt like an imposter. Crowley had done all the hard work through this process from the pregnancy to the birth. Of course Aziraphale knew better - that he provided loving support, encouragement, and nourishment to Crowley - but the imposter syndrome still stopped by for a visit now and then, especially these last days. Being a witness to the unbridled power that was Crowley during labor and birth changed every fiber of Aziraphale’s being, it seemed. The two had been through so much since they were created and on such a grand, supernatural scale, but it was the act of childbirth - seemingly so simple in that humans have done it daily since Creation - that was the most transforming and powerful moment Aziraphale had ever witnessed in Crowley. Somehow, bending time, altering molecules, rearranging the fibers of Creation, and creating stars seemed so small when compared to the way he changed himself to grow their baby and the vigor in which he pushed them out into this world. Aziraphale has always known that the wonders of Crowley would never cease. As he reminded him time and again - and perhaps the demon was coming around to believing it these days - Crowley is a miracle.
Aziraphale pressed his lips to the soft swirl of hair on the crown of the little head resting on his chest. The baby was fast asleep already, steadily breathing with their delicate fist reflexively gripping the angel’s chest hair. He was in love with this feeling. Aziraphale gently trailed fingertips up and down their back. He felt their steady and quick heartbeat up against his chest and caught his breath in his throat at the memory of the first sight of it flickering on a screen all those months ago.
He reached his other hand over to Crowley, letting his fingers move through his loosely braided hair. He smiled at his beloved when those beautiful snake eyes met his own before fluttering shut again.
“Rest, my darling,” Aziraphale whispered.
Crowley was wearing a cropped vest, the bottom curves of his chest peeking out, and tiny black cotton shorts that barely covered the absorbent postpartum underpants - Crowley joked about wearing a nappy in solidarity with the baby - and giant pad that he wore. Crowley had opted for the incontinence knickers after finding quite quickly that standard mesh knickers didn’t suit his needs. His belly, empty and still very round, was proudly exposed. Aziraphale blinked back a tear at the memory of the morning they first noticed Crowley’s bump, a moment he had desperately waited for in his early weeks. He resisted the urge to trace his fingers along the golden and snake scale stretch marks as he had done quite a bit in the last few months. Crowley’s body was art, each curve and stretch mark like a brushstroke marking the miracle that had occurred there. Aziraphale couldn’t wait to sketch him at this stage.
The room was cool despite the summer month and it smelled like a mix of baby accoutrement, Crowley, and the herbs Crowley used to soothe his soreness. The calendula and comfrey were especially noticeable above the other herbal scents. Aziraphale listened to the soft breaths of their newborn mingling with the quiet deep sighs of his dozing husband. Outside, birds were singing to greet the morning. Aziraphale took it all in and closed his eyes, letting himself feel immersed in the new sensory experiences in their home. This was pure bliss.
************
Family
The baby gave them another half hour before beginning to stir and root at Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale shifted the baby to cradle them as he prepared to wake Crowley. He remembered the demon’s advice - that stirring and rooting were early hunger cues. By the time crying begins, they are incredibly hungry and rather upset about it. He hoped to avoid that stage.
Crowley woke with a start. He’d heard the little noises the baby makes when they first begin to stir from their sleep
“There now, my dearest, Daddy is waiting for you.” Aziraphale kissed their forehead. “Do we want to sit up or remain laying down?” he asked Crowley.
“Think I’ll stay here.” Crowley patted the bed next to him and smiled. “Hand them over.”
Crowley snuggled the baby next to himself. He curled around them to press a kiss to a perfect cheek before guiding them towards his chest and helping them latch on. He rubbed his nipple on their top lip, getting them to open wide to latch. It took a few tries, but they were successful. He bent his arm under his head and gazed at the perfect tiny being eagerly suckling, their jaw moving slowly as they drank.
“There we go, little angel,” Crowley whispered. He smoothed fingers up and down their back and then traced one along their cheek to their ear. He’d already memorized every inch of the baby and their scent was branded into every part of him. His gaze landed on the tiny mouth with its perfect latch on his chest. Crowley felt as if he had nursed them at least a hundred times overnight, but he was no less enamoured with the process. Nursing their baby was such an important act for him. He was happy and relieved he was able to do it well so far. He still couldn’t believe he was feeding their baby with his actual body, much like he couldn’t believe he could carry a baby and give birth. Crowley had been proving himself wrong on that front for the last 9 months.
“Such an obsession for the tit,” he laughed softly. The baby whimpered around his nipple and he adjusted their positioning and latch with the relaxed skill of someone who has helped countless people through such moments.
“I understand the obsession. They’re rather lovely.” Aziraphale giggled.
Crowley laughed in response. The last two times he nursed, he noticed the faintest tingling sensation at the top of his chest. Even though they were still rocking the liquid gold that is colostrum, Crowley was certain his milk would be coming in within the next day. He could see subtle changes in the size of his chest since sometime in the middle of the night.
“I can't imagine them getting any bigger, but my milk hasn't even come in yet. ‘Fraid they may explode.” He poked at the currently unattended breast.
They laughed together. Aziraphale put his hand over Crowley’s on the baby’s back. “I love every moment of this with you,” he said quietly, “I keep thinking you couldn’t possibly look any more beautiful, but then the very next minute you prove me wrong.”
Crowley smiled at him. “I knew the adult nappy and giant pad would be an Aziraphale magnet.” He laughed and then let his voice soften. “I could say the same thing about you, Angel.” He reached to cup the angel’s cheek. “You glow,” he said softly.
They held each other’s gaze for a few moments. Crowley’s eyes watered first, followed quickly by Aziraphale. The enormity of what transpired over the last few days was only just starting to trickle into their awareness.
“Didja ever think throughout all of our adventures that one day we’d be lying in bed with our baby between us?” Crowley asked, his voice low and wistful.
“Not in a million years, my darling. Quite literally.” He scooted even closer and put an arm around his husband, letting his hand massage at his low back. He’d noticed the tightness to Crowley's lips just now, an indication he was feeling cramping. While he knew it was normal and quite necessary and something Crowley embraced, he would admit to wishing the demon could have a little relief from his various discomforts.
“Are you quite alright, my dear?”
“Never better, Aziraphale.” The baby’s nursing was slowing down as they began to fall deeper into sleep.
“Can I get you anything? Your tea? Breakfast? A frozen pad?” Here he goes. “I could fix some pillows up against your back. I could also braid your hair again. I could help you to the toilet. Anything you need, I am happy to do for you.”
Crowley smiled at his fussy angel. “I’m good for right now, Angel. I’ll definitely need most of those very soon. For now, I am just happy to be here with the two of you. I want to enjoy it for a bit.” Crowley was cramping and he knew a resultant small gush of blood was on its way, which would leave his already slightly sticky pad in need of a change. Physically, he was fairly uncomfortable, but he honestly didn’t care at the moment. Something about the early morning light and the soft sounds from outside and from their baby coupled with the three of them laying together started a symphony on his heart strings.
He tilted his chin towards Aziraphale. “C’mere,’ he said, indicating his request for a kiss.
Aziraphale was happy to oblige, inching his head closer to press his lips to Crowley’s for a long, deep kiss. Crowley tasted like the red raspberry leaf and oat straw tea blend he’d made for recovery. “Thank you for our family, Crowley." They held onto one another, arms crossing over the sleeping infant’s legs.
Crowley felt overwhelmed with this new type of joy he’d been experiencing in these last days. His eyes set their tears free. He looked down at their baby and then back up at Aziraphale before finding his lips again for another long kiss.
“Thank you, Aziraphale. For life.” He wasn’t done kissing his angel husband just yet.
They cuddled peacefully together, taking each other in, sharing kisses, and gazing in love and awe at their baby. Crowley decided he'd let himself doze for maybe another fifteen minutes before asking Aziraphale to help him up and assist him with some of the less glamorous aspects of his postpartum recovery.
He stared into the bright mix of blues, greens, and browns currently displayed in Aziraphale’s eyes, reminding Crowley of the Heavens and the Earth he took part in sculpting - eyes that have been his tether to his own existence since before time. Everything about Aziraphale and their baby was his entire world now. As his own eyes grew heavy, he laid another delicate kiss to Aziraphale’s lips, letting his love and all the hope it brought with it pass between them.
“To our world, Angel,” he whispered sleepily.
Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead and his eyes. He looked down at the newborn calmly and securely sleeping between them, snuggled to the warm and safe chest of the demon.
“To our world, my loves,” he whispered back.
This gorgeous artwork is by Lonicera.