Sometimes Crowley still woke up swearing that the whole thing was a dream. He didn't know at what point in his life he would wake up at, only that it wouldn't be where he thought he went to sleep.

But on those mornings, when he didn't dare open his eyes right away, he took stock of his surroundings.

There was usually a warm spot in the bed next to him, if not a warm body. When there wasn't, the scent that lingered on the sheets or on skin was always the first, and best reassurance that he hadn't dreamed the last two and a bit years up. And if he still doubted, if he still wasn't sure he was merely tricking his brain, Crowley would take a moment, feel the weight of the ring on his left hand and know.

It was then he would open his eyes, shifting about to face his night stand where he was always greeted by the framed picture of his and Ezra's wedding. His husband's side had one from their family honeymoon, the one they took with the boys during their summer holiday to Paris for crepes and brioche and sightseeing.

He genuinely didn't know which photo was his favorite.

"Good morning," Ezra said, and Crowley felt the weight of his hand touch his shoulder, Ezra's wedding band a distinctly separate texture though it was equal in warmth.

"Morning," Crowley mumbled as he rolled over, burying his head against the softness of Ezra's waist. "Did you sleep?"

"I did," Ezra assured, the sound of a page turning somewhere above Crowley's head. "I just found myself waking a bit early and didn't want to get out of bed."

"Mmm," Crowley hummed, slinging an arm around his husband's waist. "Good."

They stayed like that for a while, neither moving, and while Crowley didn't fall back asleep, he didn't move either. He could live forever in moments like this, snuggled into his best friend while he read, the light sound of rain against the windows outside, the quiet stillness of the morning before the ruckus of the day was unleashed.

It was as that thought entered his mind that he heard a door in the hallway open.

A moment later, their bedroom door did, too, and two sets of feet came over to the bed, one drifting over to Ezra's side.

"Good morning, my loves." Ezra greeted the boys, and Crowley felt the weight of the mattress dip down by his feet.

"Is dad sleeping, still?" Adam asked, his voice where the dip was.

"No, he's awake, just lazing." Ezra replied.

"What are you reading?" Warlock asked from on the other side of Ezra.

"I'm currently rereading Pride and Prejudice as a refresher. I'm starting it in my class on Monday."

"Is it one with funny words?" Warlock asked, and Crowley snickered.

"It's not something you'd get just yet, Lock." He said, finally opening his eyes. "Few years yet."

"Sounds like a stupid love story." Adam said, and Crowley looked at him with a smirk and wink, the very slightest of nods, but he was caught out.

"Do not encourage that sort of thing, Anthony. Otherwise I'll start telling them the sort of things you liked to watch when we were young." Ezra warned, causing the boys to giggle.

"Only ever watched those with you." Crowley said as he sat up, scooting so Adam could sit beside him. Their bed was big, but they might have to get bigger if these weekend morning family snuggles were something that was going to continue.

He'd never complain about the lack of space, though.

"Can you continue with Peter Pan, papa?" Warlock asked on the other side of Ezra, already reaching for the book and handing it to him.

"I suppose," Ezra agreed readily, and Crowley smiled, pressing a kiss to Ezra's shoulder as he began where they'd left off the weekend before.

They stayed like that, the four of them, until their stomachs rumbled to remind them that breakfast was to be had.

~A~

"It hasn't been quite the same, you know." Richard was telling them from where he was sprawled out on his and Oscar's picnic blanket in Saint James Park. "Quality is still there, overall, but it's lost something about it since you sold it."

He was, of course, talking about the shop formally known as the Garden in London. Anthony had done a lot of thinking on it, and just after the holidays sold his shares to Gabriel for no more than what he'd bought the shop for. James had done an excellent job abusing his part-ownership and gave plants and flowers away at a fantastically high rate, all with providing no income to the shop. And Anthony, having found he wanted to return to London less and less, and having more and more business come into the Tadfield shop, had decided it was time to walk away. He would have a portable shop to sell from in the city in the summer, during the holidays in which flowers or plants were the usual gift.

At least, that had been the plan. Last year sort of put a bit of a pin in that. Many said Anthony had been lucky, giving it up when he had. And some days he might agree, though Ezra knew better. He still mourned that first shop from time to time, but it was better than having James slowly start to drain his profit to nothing.

As far as either of them knew, Gabriel had put a stop to that. It was hard to tell, for every time they'd ask Bea how it was going under the new management, that simply smiled in a wicked sort of way. They didn't ask much anymore.

"Yeah, well," Anthony shrugged, popping a blueberry in his mouth while he, too, was sprawled out. "You know where to get the proper goods."

"We've been thinking of moving your way," Oscar said, and Ezra nearly beamed. Oscar lifted his hands in a placating gesture. " Thinking. I get to work from home more these days, and with Richard not going back to work until Isabel is in primary."

"Or longer," Richard smiled. "I may have a publisher interest in my novel, and we're thinking of adopting again."

"That's wonderful," Ezra said, looking to where Adam and Warlock were currently playing with Isabel. The toddler was giggling wildly, the boys grinning as they pretended to run from her in slow, barely there steps.

"They would be excellent big brothers." Richard hinted.

Ezra grinned, looking down at his husband, knowing he met Anthony's eyes even behind his sunglasses. Anthony's mouth curled ever so slightly, and his left hand covered Ezra's, his wedding ring clinking gently against the winged crest ring on Ezra's pinky.

"Suppose they might," He said casually, feeling the gentle vibration of Anthony's chuckle, and smiling. "But a move to Tadfield, you say?" He changed the subject, Anthony shifting up and sitting to hold him from behind and rest his chin on Ezra's shoulder.

The summer day lingered on, spent in good company with good food in the cool shade of the trees. Ezra thanked whoever was watching over him, be it a deity, his father, his mother, or his sister, for making him find Anthony again. For giving him a chance to have a future that was filled with love and hope and family with his best friend.

He closed his eyes a moment and lent back against Anthony's shoulder, and if he listened really hard, he thought it was possible he heard the lovely song of a nightingale somewhere off in the distance.

He couldn't be sure, though. The boys were being rather loud.

They really will make fantastic older brothers.