Chapter Text
Of course it has to be raining today. Normally, you’d be thrilled, but after the week you’ve had, it just seems like the sour icing on a moldy cake. And on top of all that, you forgot your umbrella this morning.
A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you make your way through the crowded London streets. You know you could just call Crowley to come pick you up, but you hated the thought of being a bother (although he and Aziraphale would always insist that you were ‘no such thing’ and they were ‘always happy to help out a friend’). As much as you loved the sentiment, you still couldn’t bring yourself to ask for help. You had a hard time speaking up for yourself and expressing your needs.
You round a corner and the bookshop comes into view. You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, excited to finally be able to relax with your two closest friends. As soon as you enter the shop, you feel some of the tension leave your shoulders, the smell of herbal tea and old books immensely comforting and familiar.
You hear your name being called in curiosity before a head of white hair emerges from the back room. Aziraphale smiles brightly upon seeing your face before his expression turns to one of worry as he takes in the rest of your appearance.
“My dear, what on earth happened to you?” He rushes over and takes your coat for you, miracling up a towel to help dry you off.
“Forgot my umbrella,” you reply halfheartedly, taking the towel and swiping it gently over yourself before wringing it in your hair to get some of the moisture out.
“Well, that I can see. What I meant was what happened?” He enunciates the last word with a look that lets you know he means your emotional state.
You sigh as you take off your shoes and socks, placing them by the front door.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” you walk into the shop and look around, noting some new additions to Aziraphale’s collection. “I could use a shower though. Do you mind?”
“Of course, dear. You know where the bathroom is, yes?” You nod your head in confirmation and he adds on “there should be fresh towels and a clean pair of clothes on the counter for you,” Uttering a small ‘thank you’, you’re about to make your way upstairs, when a familiar demon enters the shop.
“Bloody rain. Always comes at the worst times,” Crowley grumbles and you turn to look at him. He is equally as drenched as you and looks just about as miserable. He shakes himself off and then snaps his fingers, suddenly bone dry. You silently envy him for his demonic powers.
He notices you then, saying your name before gesturing loosely.
“You too, huh?” He says and you smile wryly, nodding.
“About to take a shower,” you finish towel drying yourself and sigh deeply. Crowley looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. You shrug it off and make your way upstairs while Aziraphale promises to have some of your favorite tea ready when you finish.
The hot water feels amazing, washing away all the tension in your body. You could stay in there for hours, but the prospect of a steaming cup of tea is motivation enough to get you out.
You dress yourself and brush your teeth before combing through your hair to remove any tangles. You make yourself halfway decent, and once you are satisfied, you make your way back down to the bookshop, cleaner and a lot more relaxed.
As soon as you enter the room, Aziraphale has a hot cup of tea, as promised. You take it with a small thanks and sip at it. It’s the perfect temperature, as always. Perks of being friends with supernatural entities, you suppose.
Much to your delighted surprise, it seems your friends have also set up a cozy space for you to warm up. There is a huge pile of blankets and pillows, organized just how you like it. You smile and thank them both, setting your tea on a side table, before jumping into the pile. A pleased giggle escapes your throat and the pair smile affectionately down at you.
They sit in their respective seats, Aziraphale on his office chair, and Crowley on a couch in the corner. You wrap yourself in the blankets and sip at your tea as Crowley turns the TV on and Aziraphale opens a book.
“Any preference?” Crowley asks and you shake your head, content to watch whatever he picks. He settles on some light hearted sit-com and you lean back, enjoying the warmth and company.
A few episodes have played and you start to feel anxious. You were never big on physical affection, Crowley and Aziraphale knew that well. They were always respectful and hardly ever touched you. You liked it that way, for the most part. But there was still a piece of you that craved touch, it was just hard to accept and express because of your past.
You shift in your seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. You want to… cuddle. But you don’t know how to ask. You’ve never initiated physical contact with either of them, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only hugged each of them a total of two times, that being the closest you’d gotten with them physically.
Would it be weird to ask now? You certainly feel that way.
Aziraphale seems to sense that something is bothering you and gently calls your name.
“Is everything alright? You seem… restless,” He sets his book down and takes off his reading glasses, putting his full attention on you. Squirming slightly, you feel heat rise to your cheeks, feeling put on the spot.
When you don’t answer right away, this also draws Crowley’s attention and you shrink even further into your seat. Part of you wishes to be swallowed by the blankets so you can avoid this whole situation.
“You can talk to us, you know,” Crowley says softly, turning the volume way down on the TV. An invitation to talk if you want, but no pressure to actually do so if you feel uncomfortable.
“Uhm…” you start, but find that the words die in your throat. You swallow hard and pull the blankets closer to your face. It feels like you’re on fire, all from the stupid thought of wanting to be held.
“Oh goodness, you’re flushed! Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Aziraphale quickly gets up and makes his way over to you.
“I’m fine,” you mutter, barely audible, but you know that they hear you.
“Now I think we both know that’s a lie,” Aziraphale’s voice is gentle and you can feel him looking at you with an intense concern.
“Iwannabeheld,” you say as quickly and quietly as possible, pulling the blankets even further up, trying to hide your embarrassment.
“I didn’t quite catch that, dear” Aziraphale is so sincere and you feel tears well up in your eyes, shame starting to take over. Touch has always been a scary thing for you, seeing as you learned very quickly that it wasn’t safe. But you were away from those people now. You were safe with Aziraphale and Crowley. You wanted to be safe with them. But you were terrified.
“Nevermind, it’s nothing,” you say, louder this time, trying to wipe your eyes as subtly as possible.
“Well clearly it’s something,” Crowley chimes in, moving from his spot on the couch to kneel next to you. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be crying,”
Shit. They noticed.
“Seriously, it’s fine. I just got something in my eye,” you lie, part of you hoping they drop it and the other part wanting them to press it, or just realize what you need.
“Bullshit,” Crowley says and Aziraphale lightly scolds him for swearing, which he brushes off. You glance over at them and notice that Crowley has taken off his sunglasses. He is regarding you with such an intensity that you have to look away.
“It’s stupid,” you say finally, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Nothing you say can be as stupid as when Aziraphale says he’s a magician,” Aziraphale gasps and puts a hand to his chest, clearly offended.
“I am, though! See?” He reaches behind your ear and pulls a chocolate coin out, which causes a small smile to grace your features.
“Ah, there’s that smile we love so much,” Crowley says, and you feel yourself flush more at the attention.
Heaving a deep sigh, you decide to just say it, hoping that getting it off your chest will at least make the weight lift a little.
“I know this might be weird because I’m not big on this kind of stuff, but it’s been a really rough week, and I trust you guys. You’re my best friends. And I really just need-” you stop yourself, unsure how they’ll react.
“What do you need, love?” Crowley’s gentle voice is enough to coax you out of your shell and you finally let the words spill.
“I need to be held,” you curl yourself further into your blanket, afraid that they’ll laugh at you or reject you.
“Well why didn’t you say so sooner?” Aziraphale says and scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your quivering frame. “Is this alright?” He whispers and you nod, feeling tears start to flow, both out of shame and relief.
“Oh, love,” Crowley comes to your other side and rubs your back soothingly as you cry. For the first time in your life, you feel so completely and unconditionally loved.
After a long while, the position you’re in starts to hurt your back so you shift out of their grasp.
“Too much?” Aziraphale’s voice is laced with concern and you shake your head.
“No, my back was just starting to hurt. Can we move to the couch?” You admit and they both agree.
You end up laying your head in Aziraphale’s lap, with your legs over Crowley’s. One pair of soothing hands runs up and down your calves while another gently strokes your hair. The repetitive motions slowly lull you into a deep sleep, and for the first time in months, you feel truly at peace.