Disclaimer: Good Omens and all the wonderful beings within do not belong to me. They belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, or vice versa... depends on which version of the cover you're looking at. No profit is being made, alas, I'm just having fun.
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Crowley was always one for sloth, but Aziraphale never slept. When they moved to the South Downs, there was only one bed.
"It's quite all right," Aziraphale said. "I don't sleep." Crowley looked at him blankly.
"You should try it," he said. "Just don't dream."
That night Crowley slept on the narrow bed. There were no blankets. Aziraphale sat in the armchair and watched him, thoughtfully.
He wouldn't sleep. But he was still an angel.
Aziraphale found some sheets and waved them clean. He didn't think it was a waste of a miracle, as he draped them over his friend.