"I--I have what?" He had a good arse and a nice smile and -- he liked his hair? Aziraphale laughed and then frowned a little, feeling a bit thrown. "I think that's the only time someone has spoken on my looks in a complimentary fashion. Then again, most of the people I know like to call me queer so I assume that's not really a danger here. Or a negative." Aziraphale found that oddly comforting. What he had couldn't be used against him, he couldn't be hated for what he was. Oh and there it was, that powerful, painful yearning.

"I want to. One day. Maybe not often, I'm not a party person but -- maybe. To be with people. People like me. I'm always around people who dislike almost everything about me, that love me 'in spite' of myself." And it hurt to always feel like that. And he would never feel at home in a party but he could at least belong for five seconds. And that was a nice thought.

"... I always wanted to dance with a boy."