Love Knows Boundaries

Aziraphale's hands were shaking, his throat was closing up again, and there were tears coming out of his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears kept trickling through anyway.“Okay,” came Crowley’s voice again, very near at hand — gentle, steady, undercurrent of anxiety audible but, doubtless for Aziraphale’s benefit, tamped down under control. “Okay, there. Yeah. All right. You want a hug?”And it was Crowley, it was just Crowley, they’d hugged plenty of times before. Aziraphale liked hugging Crowley. When he got like this a hug was an almost guaranteed way to help him feel better, to ground him, to calm him down. It was just Crowley, for goodness’s sake, this was ridiculous…Aziraphale discovered that he was shaking his head from side to side, very emphatically.“Okay,” Crowley said for the fourth time, calm and grounding even without any physical touch, and the sound of his voice retreated a foot or so. “Not a hug. Is there anything else I can do?”

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OR: After a performance review and a dubious "reward" from the Archangels, Aziraphale arrives home badly in need of comfort.