It took over a month to get Aziraphale to agree to ride in the Bentley again.

After a few more weeks of camping out at Crowley's flat, he had gone back to the bookshop, "to make sure things are tickety-boo," he said. He'd walked by himself, and Crowley had spent the whole time staring at his phone, wondering both if it would ring and when he got so overprotective. He'd given Aziraphale his own phone - insisted, actually. Old habits die hard for even older angels but Crowley wanted to make sure his angel could reach him in case he collapsed again. He'd gotten him a phone similar to a Jitterbug - with one large button to call Crowley and not much else.

Finally, the phone rang. Crowley picked it up within a few seconds.

"Crowley?"

"Aziraphale, hold the phone closer to your face, like I showed you."

"Ah, right. Sorry it took me so long, I'm well worn out." He sounded like he was exhausted.

"How's the shop?"

"I haven't gone in yet. Wanted you with me."

"Well, go on then!"

A rattle of keys and a creaky door.

"Oh, it's so dusty in here! I'll need to find a broom somewhere. Alright, everything looks the way it should. Just a bit of tidying up should be fine. I think I have a broom in one of the closets..."

Aziraphale set the phone down on the front desk and wandered off, oblivious to Crowley's calls. Finally, Crowley sighed and hung up, snapping his fingers and appearing in the bookshop, his entrance stirring a cloud of dust.

"Oh! Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped from a broom closet. "I thought you weren't going to come."

"It sounded like you needed help," Crowley shrugged.

"Oh, well. Thank you!" Aziraphale wasnt blushing, he couldn't be. He was just winded from the walk earlier.

"I think I have a spare broom if you'd like to sweep," Aziraphale said, "or you could organize some of the books I left laying around."

"I could just miracle this up," Crowley pointed out.

"I'd rather do this the, er...old fashioned way, if that's alright with you."

"Of course. Your shop."

The two of them set to work, sweeping, dusting, organizing, and setting up the whole shop, sneezing occasionally as they realized dust had been collecting around here even before Adam had remade the shop and had somehow managed to stay afterwards. By the end of the day, the shop was nearly spotless, and the celestial beings leaned against the front desk, absolutely beat. Crowley miracled his own sweat away, while Aziraphale thought about the flat above his shop he'd never used for more than a decoration before.

"Do you want to come upstairs for some tea?" He asked Crowley. "It's the least I could do."

"Nah, don't worry about it. This was almost a little fun. Do you want to get dinner? I could drive us to that sushi place that's miraculously expanded its hours."

"Oh, Crowley...I don't know..." Aziraphale wrung his hands together nervously.

"I'll drive slowly," Crowley assured. "Won't even touch the speed limit."

"Oh, well...alright then. But I'll need to shower and change first, I'm a horrible mess."

While Aziraphale took a nice, warm shower, Crowley wandered around the shop, eventually coming back to the office where he had found the angel lying that day. Something in his gut shifted as he remembered the way the angel looked: tense, shaking, barely aware of where he was. Shaking his head, Crowley noticed the landline phone was still not hung up. He strode over to it, rather tersely putting the phone back on the receiver. Then he miracled the room tidy and organized before walking back to the main desk.

Aziraphale came down the stairs eventually, looking a bit sheepish. "So sorry for the wait," he said. "I couldn't quite figure out what to wear."

He'd chosen a white button-up shirt and a pair of khaki pants, which to Crowley's dismay looked a bit big on him.

"Everything alright?" He asked the angel.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," Aziraphale said quietly. "The car?"

They walked outside to the Bentley, locking the shop behind them.

Aziraphale paled a bit as he climbed into the passenger side of the car, buckling himself in with a seatbelt he assumed was there.

"Maybe one of these days I'll teach you to drive," Crowley offered as he climbed into the driver's seat. Aziraphale just focused on looking out the front window, hands already kneading his legs.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley asked, leaning over to get the angel's attention, which worked.

"I promise I won't go too fast for you. Okay? We'll start slowly. Let me know if I go to fast and I'll pull over. Swear on my life."

"Crowley..." Aziraphale sighed, nodding. "Alright. Let's go then."

The drive was bad for both of them. Aziraphale spent the whole time tense, while Crowley spent the whole time worrying about Aziraphale and miracling the horns of everyone around him silent. They went dreadfully slow, almost a crawl. Finally, Crowley turned to Aziraphale.

"I'm sorry, Angel, but if I don't speed up it'll be tomorrow before we get there. Hold on."

He sped up to a normal driving speed, driving as carefully as possible, sneaking glances at his angel every so often.

They made it to the sushi place without any incident, parking properly outside. Aziraphale leaned forward, face in his hands, working to catch his breath.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley asked, reaching out and touching the angel's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "Can we go in?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just give me a moment."

Crowley leaned over and hugged his angel, patting him on the back. "Ready when you are."

After a bit of time at the sushi place Aziraphale looked much better. He still wasn't eating as much, mostly just picking at his roll and looking torn.

"Talk to me, Aziraphale."

"I'm alright!" Aziraphale snapped, looking immediately regretful. "Oh, Crowley, I'm sorry. I'm just...tired, my dear."

"Of course. Why don't you eat something? Maybe you'll feel better?"

Aziraphale looked away. He knew the sushi would be good, but thinking about eating right now made his stomach turn.

"Look, how about this. I'll eat a piece, then you eat a piece. Once I've had enough, we can stop. Alright?"

Aziraphale looked unsure, but Crowley popped a piece of sushi in his mouth before reaching down with his chopsticks and moving to feed a piece to Aziraphale, who reluctantly ate it. It was definitely scrumptious. The two of them went on like this for a few minutes, with Aziraphale eventually eating by himself. After a good few plates, Crowley stretched. "Right then. I'm stuffed. How about you?"

Aziraphale, who wasnt quite full yet, nodded in agreement. Crowley looked at him suspiciously.

"Should we get dessert?" The devil asked.

"No," the angel tried to deny.

"I think I will," the devil proclaimed. He flagged down a waiter and ordered two slices of Aziraphale's favorite cake.

"Crowley...really, I shouldn't..."

"C'mon, angel, you're not still thinking about what Gabriel said? You look fine. C'mon, for me?"

Aziraphale fretted. Even if he was stressing his angel out a little, Crowley noted that "fretting over whether to have a slice of cake" stress wasn't as rough on the angel as "oh god we're driving above 5 miles an hour" stress.

"You can't keep holding yourself back, angel. It's not healthy for you."

"I'm not holding myself back. I'm just not hungry. I'm fine."

"Aziraphale, look at yourself! You can't honestly tell me you haven't noticed what you're doing to your body."

"I have noticed. And I'm fine. I'm doing this on purpose."

"What?"

"Gabriel is right. I don't look how an angel is supposed to. I need to start putting an effort into how I look."

"You already look good! Gabriel is full of shit."

He grabbed the angel's hands, pulling one of them away from his stomach, where it had been subconsciously playing with the rolls for the last few minutes.

"Aziraphale, I hate to put it like this, but who are you going to believe? Gabriel, who's been trying to break you down since Eden, or me, who thinks you've always been lovely just the way you are?"

Aziraphale didn't say anything. The cake arrived, and their waiter set a slice in front of each of them. Aziraphale's eyes welled up.

"I want to go home," he said softly, not meeting Crowley's eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want to at least nibble the cake? I got your favorite."

Aziraphale's taste buds tingled, but his eyes fell down to his stomach. "I can't," he whispered.

Before Crowley could say another word, Aziraphale, not thinking straight, teleported himself back to his own flat.

Back home, with the tingles of teleportation burning his skin, he threw off his clothes, hopped into bed, buried himself in soft blankets, and slept.

Next time he woke, his phone was on the nightstand next to him, and he picked it up. "30 missed calls," the screen read. Aziraphale sighed and put the phone next to him in bed, letting the messages play.

"Aziraphale, it's me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I...I'm worried about you, I hope you see that. I left the leftovers in your fridge in case you want them later, but...no pressure. What you want to do with your body is your business, I just want you to be safe. Call me back when you get this."

"Aziraphale? I'm sure you're still asleep. I'm sorry, I'll, er, let you rest."

"Aziraphale, I'm going to go see Adam and the Them. It's been awhile, I feel bad for not checking in. Let me know if you want to come. Hope to hear from you soon."

"Hey. I didn't wind up going after all. Not much to say, really. I'm not great with people and. Well. It just wouldn't feel right without you there. Call me back when you get the chance."

"Hey! Sorry for calling so much. I hope you're doing better. Please call me."

"Angel, I'm going to Hell for a few days. I'll call you when I get back. Hope Heaven hasn't stolen you away."

"Aziraphale...where are you? Please call me back."

The rest of the messages were all like that. A greeting, an anecdote, an expression of worry, a request for a call back. Just as Aziraphale finished the last of the messages, his phone rang.

"Hullo?"

"AZIRAPHALE! Oh, thank someone. Are you okay?"

"I think so. Just woke up. What day is it?"

"Day? Angel, you've been asleep for a month! Have you listened to my messages?"

"Yes, all of them."

"Stay where you are, I'm coming over. You're still in your flat, aren't you?"

"Crowley-"

He heard the phone click and his front door open, and he buried his head in the blankets, closing his eyes. Maybe he'd get lucky and go to sleep again.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley said, softly, as he opened the bedroom door. "Oh, angel," he said, unknowingly chipping away at Aziraphale's heart. He strode over to the bed, kicking off his shoes and sitting down on it.

"May I come in?" The devil asked.

"No," the angel replied.

"What if I bring you some water?"

A pause.

"Temptation accomplished," the angel sighed.

Crowley left and came back with a glass of water, and Aziraphale poked his head out of the blanket to sip from it.

"No offense, angel, but you look terrible."

Crowley was right. Aziraphale looked gaunt. Despite having slept for a month, he looked like he could easily sleep for another year.

The angel shrugged, setting the glass down and burying himself in the blankets once more.

"May I join you?" Crowley asked.

"...yes," Aziraphale replied. Crowley flung his clothes off and slithered under the blankets, using his hands to find Aziraphale and wrap himself around the angel.

"Will you talk to me, dear?" Crowley asked. "About what's bothering you? I promise I won't push."

There was a few minutes worth of pause before Aziraphale spoke.

"I hate my body. I hate how it looks, how it feels, how I can always feel my stomach brushing against my clothes, how nothing looks right on me anymore, and I'd rather lie here in the dark than have to look at myself. I know it's stupid. I know I shouldn't take what Gabriel said to heart. But I can't help it. I'm just not good enough, and I can't help but want to be better. And I know you worry about me, and I know you like the way I look, but you don't live inside my head. You don't know what it feels like to look like this. Nobody in Hell ever pokes fun at how you look. No matter how much you like me, no matter how much you say I'm beautiful, it just doesn't...make sense."

Crowley's hug was much tighter now. "Oh dear...oh love...I'm so sorry..." he moaned into Aziraphale's chest. He wiggled down and rubbed his face against the angel's tummy.

"To think...sso much negative emotion around thisss tummy...ssso ssssssoft...ssssssso warm..."

"Stop it," Aziraphale begged. Crowley, in response, began placing butterfly kisses all over the angel's soft center.

"Crowley, please, I'm having an emotional moment, stop kissing my love handles!"

"Make me," Crowley teased, sticking his tongue in Aziraphale's belly button. The angel squealed.

"That's it!" He bellowed, hands jumping to Crowley's sides and tickling him with gusto. Crowley hissed.

"Ssssssssssssssssstop!!" Crowley whined.

"Make me!" Aziraphale cried triumphantly.

Two hours of cuddling and kissing later, and the blankets forgotten on the floor, the two goofballs sat across from each other on the bed, catching their breath.

"Thank you...for that..." Aziraphale breathed. "I...needed that."

"Feeling...better?" Crowley coughed. Aziraphale nodded.

"Good." Crowley lay back, landing on the bed with a thump.

"Do you still have that cake in your fridge?" He asked.

"I honestly haven't checked," Aziraphale admitted.

"If I go get it, will you eat some?"

Aziraphale looked away, hand going back to his stomach, but Crowley grabbed it. "Aziraphale?"

"Alright, alright. Today I'll eat a slice of cake. But no promises on tomorrow. Fair?"

"Fair." Crowley stood up, stretching, and walked into the kitchen, leaving Aziraphale to take his own turn of falling backwards onto the bed. He spent a few seconds watching his stomach rise and fall with his breath before rubbing his face and getting up to put a shirt on.

The cake was delicious, and as he nibbled at it, Aziraphale realized that, after sleeping for a month, he was positively starving.