Humans touched a lot, Aziraphale noticed sitting alone on a bench. He wiped the stray crumbs off his pants onto the ground for the little crowd of ducks he had acquired. A human couple walked by stumbling lovingly into each other, giggling, hands grasped loosely. The angel averted his eyes as they walked past, looking back to just glimpse at the two pull each other in for a quick kiss. A blush found it's way onto his pale cheeks as he folded his hands neatly into his lap. He took a deep breath and let the hurt that had built up in his chest drift away as he took in the scenery of god's earth.
Many of the books in the bookshop were love stories. Apparently, even the most talented of humans couldn't help but write a little romance. Sometimes he would be reading them alone in the shop during the dead of night when the world seemed to sleep and the familiar hurt filled his chest. Occasionally it would spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks but that is besides the point. Aziraphale wasn't always like this. Heaven used to be a cozy place where angel's loved and touched each other constantly. After the Eden incident, heaven stopped being so comforting... at least to him.
Every time he would go upstairs, the angels he encountered were rigid and business like. There were no comforting gaze or hands casually brushing each other or any touching in general. The archangel's simply ordered him around, standing out of reach with no comforting warmth radiating from their power.
It was a harsh transition for the poor angel. After being raised in constant touch and love the sudden lack was abrupt and uncomfortable. Not to mention that the stigma of ruining God's newest creation by interacting with humans was still fresh in his mind. He tried to be a good soldier and keep his needs to himself. However, it wasn't long until he came to heaven pleading for someone to make the ache go away... to just touch him. As if it was ingrained into the back of his eyelids, he could still see the archangel's staring at him, mannerisms much more sophisticated compared to the principalities sloppy pleas.
Gabriel approached and Aziraphale nearly cried out in relief as he got closer than anyone had in an incredibly long time. He felt a rough, hot hand on his chin, forcing his gaze up into the depths of his purple eyes. An uneasy feeling settled deep down into the angel's stomach as warmth filled him from that touch alone. He sighed in relief.
"You really believe," Gabriel started, his voice low and dark, "that you deserve to be touched you pathetic excuse of an angel." He dropped his hand and the warmth was abruptly torn away leaving him feeling so cold and empty that he couldn't hold himself up anymore. Aziraphale collapsed to his knees shivering as fear and dread filled his corporation.
"You abandoned your post, lost your sword, -which was a divine object may I remind you-" Michael hissed out, "Not to mention, extend a wing to a demon, the great tempter of all beings! Aziraphale..." The archangel chided, "be thankful to god almighty you have not fallen."
The angel choked on an apology, a plea, anything to just make the cold go away. The pressure in his chest was stronger as it had ever been and longed for release. He couldn't vocalize anything except for a soft sob.
A snide laugh was heard as Sandalphon made his appearance known, "Until we deem you worthy, you won't be getting the comfort you so... desperately need." his golden eyes raked over the quivering angel, blue eyes wide and staring back pleading. Sandalphon just laughed "Good luck getting what you need from those humans." A chorus of laughs was heard as Aziraphale felt himself get transported back down to Earth.
He didn't know how long he stayed lying on the cold wet ground. It had begun to rain and his usually soft bright curls dampened and was darkened with mud. His tears blended with rainwater as glassy blue eyes stared up at the darkening sky, praying for a ray of warmth that never came. The rainfall wasn't unlike the one that occurred in Eden that fateful day. Except, he was alone.
Aziraphale didn't regret any of the things he did in Eden. His punishment was harsh but the angel was resourceful and found different ways to cope:
Alcohol was one of his favorites. It was liquid warmth when he drank enough of it. It was easier to relax and forget his constant longing when the world seemed to tilt at a new angle. It made him feel like a warm coat was on his corporation, protecting him from the harsh words of heaven.
There was human companionship. However, that brought up a wave of guilt lasting longer than the comfort he gained. His looming immortality seemed to give him an unfair advantage over the creatures. The lingering touches was enjoyable in the moment but at the end, he would always be one lonely angel.
Food was another favorite. Preferring the hot foods over the cold dishes, there was so much to try. Humans were increasingly creative with how they mixed spices together and the angel absolutely loved every aspect of it. It was a hobby that kept his mind off the tightness in his chest.
His all time favorite coping mechanism came and went like a cold breeze on a hot summer day. Whenever Crowley was in the area the angel always brightened up. During the time of the Arrangement was a time of prosperity and joy for the angel. He could call upon it and the angel and demon would meet up and discuss possible solutions to get their jobs done with the most minimal effort. When this had all occurred, Aziraphale had gotten quite good at squashing down his need to be touched. There was a few rare moments when it all was an overwhelming burden and he broke down yet the demon was never around during then.
Through these episodes Aziraphale couldn't help but long for a comforting touch. Wishing that his oldest friend could understand what he needed and just help him through the worst of the episodes. Yet he knew deep down that it was a fools dream. If his own kind was disgusted at the thought of touching him, why would a demon in his right mind even consider it?
As time passed and as they grew closer. The years leading up to the apocalypse it became tougher to hide his longing. The space between them when they walked or sat down had shrunk over the past 6000 years. Aziraphale could feel the heat radiate off the demon and it was intoxicating. It was a better cure than any of his other methods. Just being near the blasted demon made it so much better while making it so much worse. At moments like these, he was reminded that he longed for touch, not nearness.
Thoughts filled his head as the apocalypse neared that maybe this was the grand test that would get him back into heaven's good graces. Maybe he would finally be allowed to be touched, comforted after his years of hardship on Earth, to feel that heavenly warmth again. So he broke things off with the demon, the only consistent warmth he had ever had on Earth, and it was the single worst decision he had ever made.
He chose heaven and yet was still punished by his own kind and he felt colder than ever.
After the apocalypse everything felt fine. The world was theirs once again. Aziraphale had always felt separated from heaven but now that it was official, it hurt more than he expected it to. Before the apocalypse, he could hold on to the hope that one day he would have pleased the archangels and be let back into heaven's open arms. Now, he knew for a fact that was never ever going to happen. It made his chest hurt and stomach clench.
He would look around and be amazed at how casually people just touched each other, especially couples. Too much exposure to looking at this and the books he loved to read was sometimes too much as thoughts of going through life without any hope of getting what he wanted was despairing. Late in the night he would shiver and just wish for someone to hold him. He would cry softly into his tartan pillows, clutching onto them in fear of the mere concept of his miserable future.
One ordinary day, Crowley was over at the bookshop, sitting precariously on the arm of his sofa as he usually did. He had a drink in his hand and was telling an animated story of his latest mischievous deed. Aziraphale was content to bask in the heat of his friend as he relaxed into the couch. He admired his long limbs which flailed around with seeming no purpose. A familiar feeling settled on the angel's chest and he froze quickly averting his gaze.
"You good angel?" Crowley asked noticing immediately.
Aziraphale nodded, taking another long sip from his cup. Trying to drown out the feeling. "'m fine." He choked out.
"You don't look fine. You got all pale and stiff 'n stuff." Crowley approached the angel whose gaze was fixed on his lap. His hands folded neatly tensing as the pressure continued to build at this sudden attention.
Aziraphale wanted to tell him to leave, that he didn't want to be around the angel when he was this desperate. He wanted to push him away like he had done so many times before when he started to feel this way. But tonight he just couldn't.
"Should we sober up, talk about it?"
Aziraphale took a deep breath before attempting to meet the demon's gaze. It was a mistake since Crowley had taken off his glasses and the golden serpentine eyes were so warm that Aziraphale wanted to swim in their golden irises. He quickly looked away, "Talk about what?"
"Angel, look I am already sober. Somethings bothering you, let me help." Crowley's warm voice seemed to envelop the angel and Aziraphale shivered at the warmth that he had longed for. "What do you need?"
Aziraphale's intoxicated body started to give in, "Could you-?" he faded out embarassed.
"Anything angel. Absolutely anything." Crowley encouraged him gently.
"Touch. Please." Aziraphale whimpered out, blushing furiously.
Without hesitation, Crowley sunk down into the couch next to Aziraphale. "Of course, darling. Is this okay?" He pulled the angel into a soft hug and Aziraphale nearly sobbed at the touch, nodding vigurously.
In the back of his mind he wondered how the pet name got put into the mix but he wasn't complaining, leaning into the touch. Crowley's hands began to rub against his back, tracing patterns into his overcoat. The warmth was more than Aziraphale had had in years and he began to cry silently, putting his head on Crowley's shoulder so the demon wouldn't see.
"Angel, I care about you so much and I know it has been tough being away from heaven for so long since the apocolypse. I was an angel once too and know how much you need warmth and love." Crowley sighed into Aziraphale, "It must be hard not having that anymore... They must be better at this whole... comforting thing than I could ever possibly be, but I will try and be enough for you. But I need you to know something..." The hands stilled on Aziraphale's back and the angel nearly whined at the loss, "Are you crying?"
Aziraphale sniffed and quickly tried to wipe his tears and clean himself up. Hide the evidence but it was too late.
Crowley pulled away, holding the angel by his shoulders as he tried to look at the angel straight in the face. Aziraphale felt tears well at the loss of the contact.
"It's only been a few months, angel. I know it must be hard without touch but darling you mustn't cry. I'm here for you."
Aziraphale's brain didn't want to work and blurted out the first thing it could think of. "Darling?"
Crowley smiled sadly, his golden eyes crinkling slightly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He sighed and rubbed Aziraphale's sides gently. "I know you're going to need affection through the years and I don't want you to be scared or nervous to ask me for it. Through everything we have been through, I have grown to be quite affectionate of you, my angel. If you simply want to keep things platonic between us I won't object, but I want you to know that if you need more, you can have it. My love, my heart, my touch, everything that is mine is yours."
Aziraphale was more confused than ever, the warmth he was feeling flood his chest was drowning out any of the words Crowley had just said. The sentiment wasn't sinking in as it properly should; and after the first taste of more warmth than he had experienced in many long years, the touch on his shoulders was increasingly distracting. He just stared with wide blue eyes, afraid to speak as he longed for more.
Crowley waited for a second before realizing that Aziraphale had not comprehended anything and he dropped his hands. Aziraphale fought the urge to grasp at him but just whimpered and sunk, curling into himself.
"Darling, you shouldn't be this... desperate. Why are you crying is something else wrong? What happened?"
Aziraphale's breath hitched as he felt himself starting to break down. "Touch please, anywhere... just... please."
Strong warm hands found their way to cup the angel's soft face, wiping away the tears. Aziraphale failed to meet the golden eyes. Just sighing with relief at the warmth.
"Angel look at me, please." Crowley pleaded.
Aziraphale raised his gaze to meet his and sobbed at the utter warmth and love in the demon's eyes. Unconsciously his hands raised to embrace Crowley's hands that was cupping his face leaning into the warmth.
"How long has it been?"
Aziraphale shook his head not wanting to admit the answer even to himself, "Please..."
Crowley sighed, "This is important to me, angel. How long since you were last touched like this? I was expecting you to be simply uncomfortable being away from heaven these few months after Armageddon, not tears."
Aziraphale choked on the answer before finally spitting out, "About a century or two." and breaking down into sobs.
Crowley was silent for a second before hissing and pulling the angel into the tightest hug he could muster. "Fuck."
The angel grasped at the demon wanting to drown himself in his warmth and love. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to the demon sobbing into his jacket and feeling so loved as the words the demon had said earlier sunk in.
"Thank you." He gasped in between sobs.
He felt the demon shiver in his arms and realized that Crowley was crying as well. "Why? Why for- for that long?"
Aziraphale pulled back slightly and buried his blonde curls into the demon's chest tears falling freely. "Said I was undeserving. I made too many mistakes... Eden..."
Crowley heaved a deep breath and shaky hands rubbed up and down along the angel's body. "Aziraphale, you are the most deserving being of love and affection that I have ever had the privilege of meeting. And I'm sorry for everything."
Aziraphale took a few short breaths before meeting the demon's tear stained eyes, "You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. None of it was your fault. The blame is on me."
Crowley shook his head, "No. Please angel. That's not true."
Aziraphale smiled sadly before choking on tears and Crowley pulled him back into an embrace. They stayed like that for a long while, the angel trying to drink in as much affection as he possibly could drifting off into a deep sleep.