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"You will never be part of this family. Losers like you are destined to live alone. Forever."
Aziraphale awoke with a start and patted the space beside him, both relieved to feel the still warm sheets that indicated Crowley had been there and disappointed to find nothing but emptiness.
Though the person who had told him this in his nightmare had no face, he had heard their words so many times in his childhood for real that he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that the nightmare had rekindled.
What if they were right?
He wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to comfort himself, but it was no use, the hateful words had planted a feeling of emptiness, of loneliness in his mind, and even though his mind told him he wasn't alone, he couldn't convince himself of it.
The same darkness he had felt in his nightmare threatened to engulf him.
"Crowley... "
He just mouthed his lover's name without calling out, not wanting to be a burden.
He'd been alone before.
He had to be strong.
"It's okay... it's okay..."
He repeated over and over as he hugged his legs to his chest, forcing himself not to cry out.
Lost in his misery, he didn't hear the bathroom door open and it was only when he felt the mattress sink and a warm hand rest on his shoulder that he realized his lover was there.
The florist called softly to him, "Aziraphale?"
Aziraphale shook his head, his face buried in the pillow.
Crowley continued, "What is it, my love? I heard you calling."
Oh no! He had called out loud!
Crowley would see how weak he was.
He, too, would think he was a loser.
Aziraphale, too embarrassed to meet Crowley's gaze, shook his head into the pillow once more.
He felt so pathetic.
Aziraphale felt Crowley's hand begin to run his fingers through his hair, and his voice whispered softly, "I'm here. Calm down, my love."
He longed to lean into his lover's soft hands, to revel in the tenderness and kindness offered, but his reason told him not to let go.
To stand his ground.
"Won't you look at me? You know I won't judge you. You know you can show me anything. I won't think less of you."
More than the few words, it was the understanding and love he felt in the florist's voice that made Aziraphale give in.
He turned to Crowley and, succumbing to the craving that gripped him, reached out to pull his lover to him and buried his face in the warm belly, feeling the darkness slowly dissipate just because of his lover's closeness. Crowley placed his hands on Aziraphale's head and continued to stroke his hair as he spoke soothing words in a soft voice.
Aziraphale had gone so many years without any gesture of physical affection that now that he was receiving it, the threat of his nightmare had caused his body to overreact.
Crowley's touch was like a balm, soothing, healing and comforting.
Overwhelmed, Aziraphale could not hold back his tears, such was the relief, and he began to sob. As he had never done before.
Crowley whispered softly, "Oh, Aziraphale. Come here."
With Aziraphale still clinging to his waist, the florist managed to slide into the bed until they were lying against each other.
He wiped away the remaining tears with his thumbs, planted a soft kiss on Aziraphale's forehead, then pulled him even closer, pressing his face against his neck.
Then he whispered softly into Aziraphale's hair, "Let go, my angel, let me take care of you. Let me give you what you need."
The softness of his lover was what finally caused Aziraphale to completely let go.
He cried over the years of emotional deprivation, of repressed desires, of love not received, not given.
Crowley remained constant with his touch and words of comfort.
Until the tears dried.
Then Aziraphale lifted his head and hand to draw Crowley's face to his until their lips touched and melted in a soft, chaste kiss. Crowley took his face in his hands and kissed him again and again, pouring comfort and love into the kiss.
Aziraphale pulled away and murmured against his lover's lips, "Thank you. Thank you for loving me. I love you. Oh, God, how I love you."
Crowley replied, their lips still against each other, "I love you. I'm here for you. I will always give you what your heart longs for. All you have to do is ask."
He pressed his lips to Aziraphale's again, and the kiss continued until they parted to catch their breath.
The bookseller said in a broken voice, "All this time...all this time, I didn't know.... "
"You didn't know what?" asked Crowley softly, brushing his hair back.
"I didn't know I needed so much..."
Aziraphale paused, unable to find the words.
Feeling his heart break at Aziraphale's admission, Crowley nodded to show he understood his lover's point and said softly, "I'm sorry I didn't realize how much you needed it."
Aziraphale shook his head, "I didn't realize it myself, so how could you?"
Crowley opened his arms to him and said, "From now on, you'll never have to deprive yourself again. This place, between my arms, is for you. And you alone."
Aziraphale chuckled softly and didn't hesitate to snuggle up against him, burying his face in Crowley's neck.
Crowley kissed his hair and smiled before reaching over to turn off the light.
Then he whispered into Aziraphale's hair, "Sleep now, I'm here and I won't let go."
Aziraphale hummed into his neck in response, and Crowley tightened his arms around him, promising himself to always give his beloved what he needed.