Some days Aziraphale feels a little too human.
He’d been walking around with Crowley for hours, feeding the ducks, looking at nature, and he’s a bit sore between the thighs, a growing pain just where his hip meets a bit of tummy fat.
He’d once heard someone refer to it as chub rub. Sounded as awful as it felt, only he didn’t want to alert Crowley by using a miracle. Gabriel’s comment on him being soft still rang like a bell in his mind, and he didn’t want Crowley to think less of him for experiencing such a human downfall.
Crowley knew the moment Aziraphale was uncomfortable, of course. Thousands of years pining after Aziraphale left the demon very in tune with the fleshy body.
Which is why, in the safety of the book shop, Crowley gently undressed a flustered Aziraphale, kissing away the fear. He took in the red, hurting skin and pressed cool cream to it, gentle, caring.
Some days Aziraphale feels a little human, and some days Crowley reminds him that it’s ok.