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When Aziraphale had first been given his corporation, Gabriel had laughed at it.
The other angels all seemed so perfect in comparison, Michael with their firm, strong figure, muscular arms and confident posture, Uriel, with their flawless yet feminine body, Gabriel, with his boxer-model torso and broad shoulders, towering over the rest of them, but none more so than Aziraphale.
Over the years, the taunts continued. It got worse when Aziraphale was on earth, when Gabriel found out he’d been indulging in wine and dates. He makes snide comments about how perhaps Aziraphale was always meant to be greedy, always meant to overindulge in food, and She must have seen that, given him this body on purpose. The thing is, Aziraphale does like eating. He doesn’t eat in excess, not in the way Gabriel seems to think he does, would never over indulge in the elaborate feasts in the way the emperors and the kings do, but he does like food. He likes trying new dishes, mainly, experiencing how the different flavours collide on his tongue, likes the burn of spices and the rich warmth of molten chocolate. Everytime he went back for his reports, it seemed like the archangel always had something else to say, some new way to tear Aziraphale down.
Aziraphale handed in his most recent written entry with a shy smile, trying his hardest not to fidget as Gabriel gave it a brief once over and slipped it back onto the desk.
“Really, Aziraphale.” He sighed, sounding disappointed. “I had hoped that we’d left the frivolous miracles behind.”
“Oh- I- I have, Gabriel, Archangel- sir.”
“Really? Used minor miracle to reheat hot chocolate?” Gabriel read off a stack of cards he had on the desk, each one used to monitor the miracles Aziraphale used. “Used minor miracle to chocolate cake last longer? Used a miracle to help struggling baker from going under? Used a miracle to summon plate of pastries to living room?”
“That-that last one wasn’t for me sir, I mean, Cr- one of my friends, he was having a bad pain day and he couldn’t really get up. And I would’ve gotten them only C-he had sort of half curled up on me, and he really wasn’t up for moving.” Aziraphale stammered, face blushing.
“The thing is, Aziraphale… It wouldn’t normally matter. Only I’ve been talking with Michael lately and – well, strictly speaking I’m not supposed to be telling you this. But she feels as if some of our angels have been overindulging a little too much in gross matter, and their corporations have been getting softer. Weaker.”
“I haven’t put on any weight!” Aziraphale blurted out, looking down, a sense of shame washing over him. “I haven’t! She made me like this!”
“Oh, Aziraphale…” Gabriel said, with a sympathetic head tilt. “I’m not quite sure that’s true. You are looking rather soft, and well, I don’t think She would disgrace any of her angels with a form like yours.”
Gabriel stood up, walking around the edge of the desk, reaching out his fingers and pinching Aziraphale’s belly, rolling the chubby layers between his fingers.
“Look at all this. It’s, well, frankly, it’s a little embarrassing, actually. I hate to say it, I really do, but it’s just you’ve become unappealing. And we’re supposed to be good role models for the humans, not tempt them into gluttony and sloth by showing them this type of body is acceptable, especially not when it’s so unhealthy for them. All this... extra, Aziraphale, it’s just a little something we need to work on, alright?” Gabriel said, a pitying smile on his face, as if he truly did feel bad for what he was saying.
Aziraphale looked down at his corporation, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He knew he was a little chubby, sure… but he’d always been this way, hadn’t he? It was just how she’d created him.
But maybe it was a little gross. Crowley didn’t have curves like this, didn’t have a tummy that stuck out when he sat down, a gut that barely squeezed into a belt after he’d had a good meal. Even when Crowley was female she wasn’t this curvy, her hips broadened out, sure, but her thighs weren’t quite so flabby. It was a bit gross, he supposed. Angel’s were supposed to take care of themselves, supposed to be perfect.
“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale whispered, shame coiling uncomfortably in his gut. “I’ll do better, Gabriel. I’ll... maybe I’ll take up a new exercise regime. And I’ll cut back on the fo- on the gross matter. I didn’t- I don’t want to be an embarrassment to Her.”
“Welllll I am glad to hear that.” Gabriel said, still flashing his perfectly flawless smile. “Off you waddle then, might want to get back to earth before the gym closes for the evening.”
Aziraphale tried to force a smile, holding back the tears that threatened to pour out. He made his way to the exit, hunching his shoulders in on himself as he walked past the other angels. He caught sight of a lower sphere angel by the lift, not nearly so important as Gabriel, yet no less perfect, their body narrow and sweet, pale brown jacket accentuating tasteful yet modest curves. They beamed a genuine smile at Aziraphale as he walked past, yet it only made him feel worse.
He felt self conscious all the way back to the bookshop. He didn’t quite dare to use a miracle to get home, not after the reprimand of too many frivolous ones wasted, but he felt like everyone looked at him as he walked down the streets.
He scrunched into himself more, lowering his eyes as he passed by a slender woman jogging down the pavement, well toned abs on display, the sports bra that covered her chest showing off just how string her body was, so much better than his.
He set about making tea as soon as he was in. He poured a little milk into the cup, but his hands trembled as he looked at the sugar bowl, and he hesitated. It wasn’t really necessary, wasn’t like he needed the extra calories, and the tea was plenty sweet enough as it was.
He took the cup upstairs with him, walking into the living room. It was small, cosy and warm, and he smiled when he noticed Crowley was curled up on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He wandered over, dropping into the seat beside the demon and curling up. He supposed if he truly was a good angel he’d get up and go on a jog or something, like Gabriel did every week, but he just wants to curl up in bed and cry.
Sensing something’s wrong, Crowley puts his phone down, turning to face Aziraphale.
“Hey angel. What’s wrong?”
“N-Nothings wrong dearest, why would you think that?” Aziraphale says, hiccuping slightly.
“C’mon, we’ve known each 6000 years, right? You don’t think I don’t know you enough to tell when somethings up? What happened?”
“Oh… Nothing really.” Aziraphale sighed, looking away. “S’ppose I’m just being a little silly is all. I really oughtn't let Gabriel get in my head quite so much.”
“Come here.” Crowley said, opening his arms and letting the tired angel collapse into his hug.
“Aziraphale, if Gabriel’s being mean again you know that isn’t you fault. What’d he say this time? You shouldn’t have so many books? Or get so attached to the ducks? Cause you know I think that’s bullshit, don’t you?”
“H-he said I was looking a little chubby!” Aziraphale blurted out with a sudden wail. “He said I was disgusting, that, um, Michael and the others had started talking about how much I was letting her down, disgracing heaven by letting my body get like this. And I know it’s true… but I can’t help it, Crowley, I don’t know how to make my body good enough.”
“Oh angel. Your body is good enough. You don’t need to change anything. You’re perfect.” Crowley said, pity filling his eyes, face crumpling in despair.
“Y-you don’t need to lie to m-me, Crowley. I – I know it’s gross. I know I’m gross.”
“You’re really not.” Crowley said, pulling back and pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s forehead. “You know, I like your tummy. It’s soft. Perfect for cuddling. And I think it’s sweet you enjoy food so much, it really is. I love you, Aziraphale, very part of you, no matter how big you are. You’re perfect, and if Gabriel and the other’s can’t see that, that’s on them, not on you. Gabriel’s insecure, angel, he puts you down cause he thinks it’ll make himself feel better. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Y-you don’t think I should l-lose some weight?”
“No, I really don’t.” Crowley tightened his grip. “I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Perfect, and kind, and soft, just amazing for cuddling really, and always so warm, so comfortable. Like a giant teddy bear. My teddy bear.”