As much as Aziraphale wished it wasn't there at all, his stomach loudly announced its presence on a stormy Friday afternoon.
"Someone sounds hungry," Crowley teased. Aziraphale pouted.
"I'm not."
"Angel, why hide it? You need to eat. No sense holding out on yourself."
"I'm not hungry."
"Oh, come on, dear. How about this. Cook something with me. Huh? A real Friday evening feast, just like we used to watch the humans do. We'll light some candles, bake some bread, we'll have a good time of it."
"I don't know..."
"Well, I'm going to try it, and you can sit here on the couch by yourself if you want. But if you change your mind, then you HAVE to eat whatever I cook. If you don't, you can starve to your heart's content." Crowley stood and walked to the kitchen.
"Crowley..." Aziraphale said. He hoped he hadn't made Crowley upset.
Crowley set up some ingredients he'd miraculously found in Aziraphale's cupboards, pulled up a few recipes on his phone, and set to work. First he started making bread dough, mixing ingredients in a bowl. He started humming to himself, some bebop tune probably. (Crowley wouldn't call Hozier "bebop", but to be fair he wouldn't call anything "bebop".) He kneaded the dough for a bit before allowing it to rest in the bowl.
"Having fun?" Aziraphale asked.
"Immensely," Crowley replied.
Aziraphale turned back towards the tv, which wasn't turned on, not that he really felt like watching anything. He sighed. He needed to be strong. Have willpower. That was-
That was what Gabriel would want him to do.
He groaned, putting his face in his hands. Crowley looked over.
"You all right?"
"Tickety-boo."
"What's wrong?"
"Crowley...is it wrong to want something for yourself even if someone bad wants it for you too?"
"Wot?"
"Let me think...say someone's mother wanted them to learn piano, but their mother was terrible. But then after awhile, that someone realized that they wanted to play piano, but they weren't sure whether to do it because it was what their mother wanted. Does that make any sense?"
"I think I see what you're getting at," Crowley said. "I don't think it's that clear of an issue. Obviously you want what you want, but at the same time, people like that have a big influence on you. Are you thinking about Gabriel again?"
"Why I...yes," Aziraphale shamefully admitted. "I might be."
"What for?"
"It's nothing to worry about, my dear," Aziraphale deflected.
"Don't give me that, Aziraphale. I can't help unless I know what's going on."
"I...erm...you know I don't..." he squirmed.
"Angel?"
"I want to have more...willpower...with things. With myself. To avoid giving into temptations and such. But is that what I want, or is it what's been expected of me for so long that I'm just...desperate to be that? Am I doing things that are bad for me because I want to be perfect?"
"Yes," Crowley said bluntly. Aziraphale made a choking noise.
"Darling, you haven't eaten anything since Sunday, despite my best efforts, you wear the loosest clothes possible as much as you can, you fixate so much on how you look that you're giving yourself a complex! I'll say it as many times as I need to to get you to believe me - this isn't healthy for you. And maybe you want to torture yourself to perfection, but I can't stand doing nothing while you do!"
Aziraphale nodded, closing his eyes. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't give me that either," Crowley said dangerously. "You can't just agree with me to get out of the conversation. I'm not mad at you, Aziraphale, please don't think I am. But I worry about you and it frustrates me that I can't do more to help you. If I knew what I could do to make you snap out of this and stop hurting yourself, I'd do it in a heartbeat."
Crowley knelt in front of Aziraphale, arms wrapped around him.
"Please, angel. If there's anything I can do, let me know. Alright? I want to help you get better."
Aziraphale nodded. "I...I want to get better." He sniffled, face suddenly wet. "I'm sorry I've been such a bother."
"Not a bother, angel, not at all. Don't say that about yourself."
Aziraphale leaned forward, hugging Crowley awkwardly. He let out a few sobs.
"I don't even know why I'm crying," he said.
"Probably because you haven't eaten in nearly a week."
"Does that happen to humans?"
"Maybe. Seen it happen before. Want a snack?"
"I suppose..."
Crowley got up and kissed Aziraphale's cheek.
"Come on, angel. Have an apple or something."
"An apple? Really?"
"Hey, I've got some, and they're nice, and it'll be a quick snack while I finish this bread."
"Alright...but only if you let me help you cook."
Crowley grinned.
He helped Aziraphale stand up and they walked to the kitchen, where Crowley removed his bread dough from the bowl and separated it into two smaller pieces.
"Want to help me braid?" He asked. Aziraphale smiled. "Of course, dear." With shakier hands than he wanted, he separated his piece into three strands and began braiding them. Crowley watched and followed his lead.
"It's been a while since we've done this, hasn't it?" Aziraphale reminisced. Crowley shrugged.
"I think that was more your department, angel. I was too busy hardening the hearts of pharaohs to get invited to any family dinners."
"Oh! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, though I'm a bit sad to hear that."
"Don't worry about it. Wasn't in my job description at the time. But about Gabriel..."
"Hmm?"
"You're giving Gabriel too much power over you. You shouldn't worry about what he wants. You should do things because you want to do them, or because they make you happy. What he wants, what anyone wants, doesn't matter. Yes, you should still be considerate of people, but you shouldn't need Aristotle to figure out what clothes to wear. Do what makes you happy without thinking about it. As long as it doesn't involve hurting yourself, of course."
"You've got a good point," Aziraphale said.
"I'm sensing a 'but'."
"Aside from yours? No," Aziraphale laughed, gently hip-checking Crowley.
"Was that a genuine flirtation, angel? I must be corrupting you."
"You haven't changed anything that wasn't already there. Now then, do we have a tray for this bread?"
Crowley looked agape at Aziraphale's perfectly braided bread. "You're a natural at this, angel," he said.
"Am I?" Aziraphale asked. He hadn't thought he'd done too exceptionally well.
Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and kissed his cheek. "Yep," he said.
"Ah. Well, thank you," Aziraphale chuckled.
Crowley looked back at his own bread, which had become more of a lump.
"Loooord, heal this breaaaaaad," he joked. Aziraphale cackled.
"You'll never let me live that down, will you, dear?"
"Nope," Crowley laughed. "Will you help me?"
"Of course, Crowley. May I?"
Aziraphale stood behind Crowley, arms going above his partner's, and he puppeted Crowley's hands. He started humming while he worked, and Crowley smiled, feeling the vibrations against his back.
"You have a very nice voice, dear," he said.
"Oh, thank you," Aziraphale blushed. He hadn't realized he was humming.
"What's the tune?" Crowley asked.
"I don't really remember," Aziraphale admitted. "I've heard it so many times yet I only remember the tune."
"Hum it for me again?" Crowley asked. Aziraphale obliged, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder and gently rocking as he hummed. Crowley finished braiding the bread, placing his and Aziraphale's onto a tray lined with parchment paper. He delicately covered the bread with a towel and set it in the oven, not wanting to dislodge his angel.
"That should rest for about an hour. Do you want to sit down?"
Aziraphale nodded. They walked back to the couch, and Crowley handed his angel an apple. Without a fuss, Aziraphale took a bite.
"Dreadful weather out there," Crowley said, gesturing to the window. It had been raining all day, and was supposed to keep up through next week. A quick glance out the window found the streets almost completely empty, save for a few poor students desperately trying to stay dry as they rushed home.
Suddenly, there was a banging on the door of the shop downstairs. Crowley jumped up, and Aziraphale moved to follow him.
Crowley made it downstairs first, peering through the shop door. On the other side was a girl, positively drenched and looking desperate. Crowley opened the door, fighting suspicion.
"Oh, thank you so much. Can I come in? I promise I won't get the books wet."
Crowley shrugged, noting that miraculously none of the books were close enough to the doorway to get wet.
"Who's down there, dear?" Aziraphale called as he came down the stairs. He poked his head into the shop.
"Oh goodness," he said, looking the girl over. "Do come in! How can we help you?"
"I-I don't need much," she said. "I just need to call for a ride. I just hope my phone is working..."
"What happened to your knees?" Aziraphale asked, pointing out her scraped knees.
"Slipped and fell in a puddle. I'll be alright, please don't worry."
"I think we have a first aid kit," Crowley said, pulling one out from behind the counter.
"Thank you," the girl breathed, taking the kit and kneeling to apply the bandaids.
"Surely we have a chair, too?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley went and got one.
"You don't have to do all this, I'm sure you're busy..."
"Not at all. Is your phone working?"
She checked. "Yeah. Thank god. I dropped it in a puddle earlier and I thought it was toast."
She dialed a number and held the phone to her ear. After a few minutes she straightened up.
"Hey Carol, it's me. Can you come pick me up? I forgot my umbrella and if it rains any harder I'm going to have to swim home. Will you be safe to drive? Okay. Um, yeah. I'm at that bookshop?? The one that's, like, never open?" She paused to give Crowley and Aziraphale an apologetic look. "Yeah. No, it's fine, I'll be okay. The owners seem really nice. Just be careful, okay? Alright. see you in a minute."
She hung up. The three of then stared at each other for a beat.
"I'm going to er. Go put up some books," Crowley said, vanishing into the bookshelves. 'Damn you,' Aziraphale thought.
"Is your husband okay?" The girl asked. Aziraphale jumped.
"Muh-my erm. Husband?"
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume anything, you just seemed like-"
"No no no, it's quite alright dear, I was just caught off guard-"
"I'm so sorry," they both said in unison. Another beat passed, and they both laughed.
"So um. Is he your..."
"Not quite. We're nothing really...official, you see."
"Ah, okay."
There was a loud crash of lightning outside. The girl jumped.
"God. I hate this weather," she said. "I can't wait to go home, no offense. Can't believe we have school in all this."
"At least it's Friday?"
"Yeah. Off to the weekend, where I'll spend two days doing absolutely nothing and then at the last minute remember all the things I was supposed to spend them doing."
She blushed. "Sorry, I shouldn't be venting like this. It's just been kind of a shit week."
"I completely understand," Aziraphale nodded. "It's been, ah, a shit few months for me."
"Oh damn, I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Such things are beyond our control."
"...yeah." she looked around the bookshop. "This place is amazing," she said. "I wish I wasn't so soaked, I'd ask to look around. Don't get me wrong, I definitely don't have money to buy anything, but if I had a free afternoon I'd love to spend it just chilling and reading books."
Her phone buzzed. "Oh! That's my girlfriend. She's outside." The girl stood up.
"Thank you so much for letting me stay. Sorry to bother you. Tell your friend I said thank you. Have a good afternoon!"
She ran to the door and opened it, waving to the Volkswagen that sat in the road. With one last glance backwards, she ran to the car, jumping inside. She waved to Aziraphale as they drove off. Aziraphale let out a deep breath of air, looked around the drenched street, and then closed and locked the shop door.
"You can come out now," he called. Crowley reappeared.
"Sorry. I just. Didn't want her to feel overwhelmed."
"I think she was fine," Aziraphale sighed. "I think I would like to go back upstairs, however."
"Sure," Crowley said, putting an arm around his angel's shoulder. He paused, then smiled.
"What is it?" Aziraphale asked.
"Do you remember the first rain in Eden?"
"Of course, my dear."
"This is just like that. Except with my arm instead of a wing. And instead of shielding me from the rain, we got her."
"Do you think that bread is ready to bake yet?"
Crowley blew a raspberry at Aziraphale, who giggled in response. Together they headed back upstairs.
The bread in the oven, Aziraphale sunk into the couch, eyes closed and body limp.
"Don't fall asleep on me, angel," Crowley said gently.
"I can't promise anything," Aziraphale replied.
"I suppose the bread can wait till morning if you're that tired." Crowley crouched on top of Aziraphale on the couch. Aziraphale smiled, then yawned.
"Must be the rain," he said. "Making me...sleepy."
"You should still eat more than an apple."
Aziraphale yawned in response.
"Aziraphale..." Crowley whined.
"I'll eat," Aziraphale said. "I just want to lie here for a bit. If I fall asleep, wake me when the bread is ready."
"Alright," Crowley sighed. He rested his head on Aziraphale's chest and closed his eyes. He had a timer on his phone, anyway. And Aziraphale was warm.
"Are you comfortable?" Aziraphale asked.
"Yessssss," Crowley replied. "You?"
"Of course."
An hour later, the alarm went off. Crowley got up immediately, but Aziraphale was still asleep. Crowley smiled, leaning in close and whispering in his ear.
"Aziraphale..." he hissed, flicking a bit of snake tongue. Aziraphale shrieked and snapped awake, jumping up.
"What was that for?"
"The bread is ready."
"Oh. Still..."
"I'm sorry, angel. Couldn't resist. Help up?"
Aziraphale pouted his way to the kitchen, where Crowley lifted the tray out of the oven with his bare hands.
"Crowley!!"
"I'm fine!" Crowley lied, dropping the tray onto the counter as fast as he could. He miracled away the burns on his hands before Aziraphale could see them.
"We should let that cool for a moment," he said, trying to keep his tone even. "They smell good, though."
He was right. The challah was immaculate. Steam rose from the top of the wooden brown bread as it cooled.
"I think I've got some butter in the fridge," Crowley said. "Probably some wine in the cabinets, too."
"Sounds delightful," Aziraphale said, opening a cabinet door and grabbing a bottle of wine. He found some glasses and poured an initial round before taking his and drinking half of it.
The warm bread and butter was so good that Aziraphale forgot to focus on anything else. He moaned in satisfaction.
"Did we do a good job?" Crowley teased. Aziraphale nodded deeply. Crowley laughed.
"You really are adorable, angel."
In the middle of the night, Crowley awoke to someone grabbing him tightly. He cracked an eye open to see Aziraphale's face buried in his chest. Crowley put his hand in the back of Aziraphale's head and rubbed his hair gently.
"You okay?" Crowley whispered. Aziraphale shook his head.
"Bad dream?"
Aziraphale nodded.
"Alright. Promise I won't let go."
"Thank you."
Crowley nodded. He wiggled a bit, closed his eyes, and drifted off to the sound of the rain.
