The Movement of Molecules

“Aziraphale kept looking at Crowley’s hands, those hands that could never stay still. He kept thinking about touching: about touching Crowley’s fingers, and leaning against his shoulder, and about all those Crowley-atoms that made up his dear familiar corporation, and how here they were having saved the world and saved themselves and they’d known each other for six thousand years and they were still sitting at opposite ends of the sofa and he wanted, he wanted…

They never touched. Why didn’t they touch?”

Aziraphale has spent a long time not touching Crowley.