It had taken an attack by three vicious demons and getting shot and almost burned by Hellfire for Aziraphale to learn that sleep was actually quite a nice thing. In 6,000 years he'd never slept, not once but now for the second time in a week, he was happily dozing the night away in his hardly ever used bedroom above the bookshop. It was just like every other room in the building; poorly lit and filled with books and antiques. The bed was a huge antique, four poster with hanging curtains and covered in soft blankets.
Crowley had been pleased that his tempting had worked, only there was one thing he hadn't foreseen and that was just how bored he would be with no one to talk to. He was still stuck as a snake, unable to leave the shop and with Aziraphale asleep, he was left tapping his tail on the floor in boredom.
Eventually, he'd abandoned his cosy spot by the fire and slithered up to the angel's bedroom, then up onto one of the intricately carved posters and onto the mattress. He was flicking his tail gently on Aziraphale's face, smirking as the angel's nose twitched and he sneezed. Again, he moved his tail over the angel's closed eyes and across his nose and hissed, laying as Aziraphale's face morphed into one of comic annoyance.
"Aziraphale," he whispered, "Azzzzzzziraphale...this issss your conscience ssspeaking."
"...Mmmm..." the angel mumbled, still sleeping.
"Aziraphale," Crowley tried again, "Azzzzzzziraphale...thissss issss the voice of God. Do as I command."
Still being met with no response, Crowley tapped his tail against the angel's forehead.
"N...no, no, I don't want...that one...got that...book," Aziraphale muttered tossing a little in his sleep.
Crowley slithered over the bed so that his head was right beside the angel's ear and his long, serpentine body was draped all over his friend. "What're you dreaming about, Azzzzziraphale?" he purred, "Jussssst booksss?"
"...Books," the angel echoed, happily and Crowley chuckled.
"Nothing elssssse?" he asked but his only response was a contented smile.
With little else to do, Crowley decided to stay where he was and soon found himself dreaming as well, although his dreams had nothing to do with books.
Several hours later, Aziraphale awoke to find a large yellow eye right next to his head and his sleep addled brain struggled to find a reason for it.
"Morning, book brain," Crowley said.
"...Erm..."
"You dream about booksss," the snake remarked.
"I..." the angel yawned and scrubbed a hand across his eyes. "Yes...yes, I do," he admitted, "How do you know about that?"
"You talk in your sssleep, too."
"Oh dear," Aziraphale blushed. "Is that normal?" he asked.
"Sssssometimesssss," Crowley answered. "You ssseem to have got the hang of it pretty quick...ssssleeping, I mean. Not ssso bad, is it?"
"Well..."
"I won't tell anyone," Crowley smirked.
"W...what exactly are you doing here...in my bedroom...in my bed?"
"I got lonely," the snake said, smugly as he shrugged, if a snake could be described as doing so.
"Erm..." Aziraphale really had no response to that remark.