777 Abby Road, Sunday Night (02/10)

[ditheringangel]

Aziraphale hadn't gone home since that wretched encounter in the worship center. He figured Wilson would know he wasn't bleeding in a field someplace, and would understand that the angel needed some time to himself

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[doctorjwilson]

It had actually been Lucifer of all individuals who had calmed the young doctor and impressed upon him that sometimes angels needed some time to themselves. The Lightbringer had then said he had now done his good deed for the decade and if Wilson could kindly stop fretting at him, he'd appreciate it.

Snarky soulbonded devil.

So, Wilson had gone to sleep on Saturday, had puttered on Sunday and was now laying quietly in bed, listening to the heavy steps of his mate as Phale dragged himself home.

"Love?" He said softly, not bothering to turn on the light.

[ditheringangel]

"I..."

Aziraphale hovered in the doorway, in the dark, perfectly able to see the form lying in the bed, and taking a moment to let the image soak in and remind him why he'd chosen to live so much in the mortal world.

"I'm a bit of a mess," he admitted softly.

[doctorjwilson]

Sitting up, Wilson shifted the covers aside and stood up, coming around the bed and heading over to the angel.

Dark eyes widened as he took in bloodstained, torn and generally disheveled clothing, a state that Aziraphale rarely tolerated for any length of time.

Wordlessly, he touched his mate's cheek and then reached down to take his hand.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

[ditheringangel]

Nodding, Aziraphale let his mate lead him to the bathroom and get him undressed and into the shower. He felt soul-tired, a state he realized he shouldn't have let himself get worked into to begin with, and he stood passively as Wilson deftly handled him.

"Do you have anything you need to do tomorrow, James love?" he asked, as the young doctor gently toweled him off.

[doctorjwilson]

Carefully getting the angel dry Wilson took his hand and lead Phale, naked, into the dark bedroom.

Gently putting him to bed, the young doctor stripped off his own boxers and crawled in next to him. Drawing the angel into his arms, he gently smoothed his hand through his hair.

"No," he whispered softly, kissing the crown of Aziraphale's head.

[ditheringangel]

Aziraphale immediately released his wings and wrapped himself around the mortal, pressing his face against Wilson's chest, his ear placed over the man's heart.

"Good," he murmured, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his mate and their home.