Good Omens: Idle Hands by Lbilover

Crowley should have known the angel would want to cuddle after sex. It was entirely typical of Aziraphale and entirely to be expected. He told himself, as he wrapped both arms and wings securely around Aziraphale and listened to his post-coital sigh of content, that he had no other choice. What was he supposed to do? Shove the angel off the bed? He might be a demon, but he wasn't a boor.

Stroking his fingers lightly along his lover's snowdrift of feathers, pretending that he hated every moment, Crowley's mind idly began trying out portmanteau names for them - Aziracrow? Crowphale? Azirley? Phalecrow? Oh no, he mentally moaned. What was he doing? Bennifer and its successors he considered one of his better efforts on behalf of Down Below. But didn't they say the angel found work for idle minds?

"It's the devil, and he finds work for idle hands," corrected Aziraphale, sounding amused. "And if you start referring to us as 'Phalecrow', my dear, I'm afraid I'll be forced to rescind our Arrangement."

"Bah," Crowley scoffed. "As if you would." But he decided it might be a good idea to put his idle hands to work again.

So he did.