Aziraphale is given a special gift from heaven after stopping the apocalypse, for appearances sake. Little does he know that this memento can poison his best friend who is about to saunter right into his bookshop. Fluffy and Whumpy! No smut. Bromance.

Heaven had to keep up appearances for the lower ranks to avoid a coup d'etat. So Heaven officially decreed that Aziraphale the Principality was now retired, having completed the ultimate quest of defeating the devil, and was to be left alone, henceforth, to enjoy what he loved best, pretending to human with books and foods.

Aziraphale was also publicly given a reward from heaven having stopped the world from ending. It was a perfectly pristine apple kept within a glass cube. The glass was etched with fine ornate gold filigree like dancing snow that laced in a swirl around the edges and vertices of the light box. It was of course a preserved apple from the tree of knowledge itself from the garden of Eden itself. It was a treasure to be sure but Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder if this was a passive aggressive move. Since he was the very angel who should have been guarding the humans from the temptation of the apple in the first place.

The gift was nice and the proclamation was uplifting but it was all a lie. Aziraphale knew it was empty praise but accepted them none-the-less. He didn't want heaven in disarray and going along with the pomp and circumstance ensured peace.

The angel had just arrived back home from the ceremony, he placed the apple on his desk so he could pick up the phone and ring his best friend.

"Yes, hello dear. I've just returned." Crowley asked a question and he replied. "It was... Interesting. No, no, everything is hunky dory. No blood spilt. I'll tell you all about it. Can you come over? Alrighty, see you soon. Toodles!"

He placed the phone back in it's cradle and gazed at the red sheen of the apple. He decided to place it prominently in the center of his mantle above the fire place. He then walked up to his little flat upstairs and put the kettle on.

Since Crowley had nothing better to do today than spray his plants and consider transplanting options he was over to Aziraphale's shop in no time. He had, since the world didn't end, been given a key to use so that more of the locals would not become suspicious every time he snapped his fingers to open the door. Aziraphale even saw a customer snap her fingers trying to come in one late afternoon when the shop was decidedly closed.

Crowley sauntered into the space and walked to the fire place to take his regular seat. That was then the first symptom struck him. But it was already too late to run away. His feet were stuck as if in ankle deep hot tar, and it burned through his shoes. His lungs collapsed on the spot and he toppled to his hands and knees first then to his side. The sound of his body hitting the floor sent Aziraphale down the narrow stairs in a half-hurry. Everything was probably fine, but he did abandon the tea for what would turn into a steep time that far exceeded the package instructions. When it comes to Crowley, loud things are bound to happen from time to time. So one can imagine the shock after seeing the sight of his friend gasping for air on the floor boards like a fish on a dock.

"My goodness!" The angel nearly cursed as he bolted to his friends side. "My Lord... What... What in heaven's name happened?"

Crowley's gasping had become so strained as his airways tightened to the width of a thread that he would be no help at all.

There were only seconds left to deduce the cause. He used his keys so he wasn't in a rush when he came in. Which means whatever caused it was in the shop. The angel could feel that there were no other beings. Something new. Something that's bad for a demon. Something angelic. Something holy. That's it!

The Apple.

Crowley's eyes closed after his last thin breath, was it to be his last?

Of course not, this is not that kind of story kids.

Our hero bolted to the apple, zapped himself away to the Bermuda Triangle, where he tossed it into the ocean, and zapped himself back to Crowley's side.

"Crowley! Dear! Oh please tell me that was it... C-Crowley?"

The snake didn't move. His glasses on the floor beside him, tossed off during the coughing fit, should have been exposing his golden yellow eyes but his eyes were shut.

"C'mon old boy, it was just a bit of heaven's holiness." Aziraphale leaned over him, to afraid to touch. "You... You just got too close. I didn't... I didn't realize... I'm so sorry... I should have... I should have known. I shouldn't have accepted it. This was all a trick. They know you would come around and be subject to it...And to think my pride actually liked some of the attention and praise. Damn it all!" Aziraphale held in the feeling of tears as much as he could just a few seconds longer when Crowley violently started coughing again. His fists clutched the fabric around his neck pulling it away and the other grabbed his friend's sleeve. He gripped both fabrics tightly with white knuckles.

"Thank heavens!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "Or rather... Ummm... Crowley, I..."

Crowley waved off what would be a failed attempt of an apology that was utterly unnecessary between these friends and motioned to be sat up. The coughing was incessant but at least he was breathing now. Aziraphale watched closely for any sign of anything he could do to help.

"Let me..." The angel reached out with the intention to heal but Crowley grabbed his wrist to stop him, an inch away from his chest. The two let their eyes meet and their closeness did not go unnoticed. Aziraphale could almost never hide a blush behind his pale, almost translucent skin tone.

He begged. "I can try to... No you're right. It's angelic harm so angelic powers can't cure it." He sighed and looked down defeated.

Crowley's coughs were lightening in volume and veracity but he still made no attempt to speak.

"I'm so very sorry my friend." Aziraphale said honestly, still bowing his head. "It's the fault of myself and my pride that brought about your anguish and what could have quite possibly been your end. I'm so stupid."

Crowley made a jagged sort of shushing sound towards his companion.

Aziraphale continued. "What... What would I have done without you?!?" At which point Aziraphale let his guard down and wept openly. Crowley leaned in as to allow his friend's head to be held against his chest. The demon half-hugged the angel as tight as he dare but still loose enough to maintain their friendship the way as it is.

Crowley began to say his name in a raspy, tired voice. "Az--" but he was cut off immediately with coughing again.

"Oh! Oh my! Don't try to speak! I'm sorry! Here... I'll go get you a cup of tea with honey to help."

Crowley cleared his throat harshly. "No. Stay." He grabbed his friend's sleeve strongly again pulling him down and keeping him on the floor.

It was at this point when Aziraphale finally looked at Crowley's face and particularly his eyes.

Fear.

Fear was emanating from every feature. It was all that the angel could do to fight every urge to scoop him up like a crying child.

"You poor thing..." The angel muttered to the demon. "Was... was it that awful? Did you really think you were dying?"

There was a pause firstly, followed by Crowley resolutely nodding his head yes then he inadvertently allowed a tear to fall.

That was too much. Now Aziraphale had to hug him. Crowley sunk into the unexpected comfort, and it was, very comfortable. The warmth of the warm blooded being pressed against him was enough to enjoy on it's own but the affection, the kindness, the adoration and the reckless love also came through like a flood.

Neither cried.

Neither spoke.

It would be several moments later that Crowley would then be moved to the sofa upstairs and given reserves of tea with lemon and plenty of honey. Biscuits came next. Aziraphale was turning back to the kitchen to get more treats, afterall, food always made him feel better but the snake had wrapped his wrist with his fingers. The grip was needy but altogether trying not to appear desperate and knowing it couldn't be hidden. Crowley's firm hold wasn't loosening even when his face turned red. The sign was already too much he wasn't able to form words to match. If he could've it would've been something like 'Please, Az just sit with me. I was terrified just then. I still am. You are so brave and I'm such a coward. Please don't leave me. Don't leave my side ever again. I couldn't bear it. Promise me you'll never leave me.'

But those words would never reach his lips. All the demon could get out was whispered.

"... Please, Az... Please."

Without another word Aziraphale understood. He sat at the end of the couch and rested Crowley's head on his thigh. The snake hummed like a cat beginning to purr. The angel swept the demon's dark hair backwards in long, gentle strokes all the while grinning to himself as the lushious locks glided between his fingers. The two rested in each other's comfortable company till long after the tea turned cold.