It was a dreary Friday afternoon and everyone was eager to get off work soon and go home for the weekend to be with their loved ones. Those who didn't work were at home, sitting, watching, waiting for the rain to let up.
Cliff sat in the big armchair near the window in the apartment him and Sally shared. He watched the rain drops race down the glass, and he thought. He'd been thinking a lot lately. Lapses of silence that prompted Sally to ask, "is everything alright darling?" and Cliff absentmindedly nodding to reassure her it was.
It was not.
The idea that he might be a bit queer was always up in the air but he never really paid any mind to it. Men were to be with women and that was the way it was. Sure, people could say it was 2000-this that whatever but rules were rules. At least, that was what Cliff was raised to believe.
He wasn't queer.
He couldn't be.
Cliff was already prone to worrying as it was, but after a peculiar night out that worry became tenfold.
He reminded himself harshly, "you're /not/ queer."
It wasn't that he had a problem with it, he prided his friends on how they had the confidence to flaunt that side of them without shame.
Cliff just...couldn't. It was different for him.
Not that he would need to flaunt it in the first place anyways, because he /wasn't/ /gay/, and he /wasn't/ questioning that.
---
Sally came home that night, kissing him hello, grabbing leftovers from the fridge for dinner.
"We should go out again tonight. Em said they had something planned at the Klub."
"Mhm," Cliff vocalized from the couch, staring out the window once more.
Sally walked over, standing a few feet away, holding a plate.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Sally," Cliff said, looking over at her. "You don't think people like Em are weird, do you?"
"Well of course not darling, we're best friends. Why would you ask something like that?" she laughed a little, confused.
"I mean, you don't think they're weird because of the way they dress or um, identify, I guess?"
"No, I don't. I've told you before Cliff, I think people are people, and that's all that matters. Why do you ask?"
"Oh no reason. What's for dinner?"
Coming to Berlin two years ago had been a strange event for Cliff to process. He'd come there as a last resort, desperate for some kind of stimulation, motivation to write.../something/. And here he was, still in the same apartment two years later, abruptly exposed to a multitude of things that back home would have called nothing less than disgusting.
He'd been taught his entire life to go to church, get good grades, a good job, and find a nice girl to grow up and settle down with.
When he felt a funny feeling for boys instead of girls, he was taught to push it down. Let it go, it's sinful and unholy and not welcome in this house.
He remembered how his mother would look at the group of kids smoking underneath the tree dressed in worn out, dark, alt clothes, how she would clench her teeth and say "they need God".
He remembered being afraid of ending up like that and receiving the same treatment if he dare fall into temptation.
He remembered feeling choked by the world around him, feeling bad about any man he thought was remotely good-looking, feeling so suffocated that the only other option was to come out and just tell people.
Cliff remembered how his mother wept while his father shouted obscenities at him, striking him across the face and telling him to get out of the house.
Coming to Berlin was a strange event for Cliff to process.
How could people do such things and not feel guilty about them?
---
The guilt.
Cliff never forgot the guilt.
It consumed him, after all, knowing that he was a certain way and he wasn't able to fix it.
He would go on walks late at night over a path that crossed a bridge, as well as the bookshop of a friend of his, and then looped back around to his apartment building.
Cliff would walk the path and think, and get mentally lost in the thoughts that consumed him.
After a while, it just started to feel like he wanted something to happen to him while he was gone, or like he was preparing himself for something big.
A month passed, and nothing happened.
Cliff still walked the trail, and the guilt still consumed him on a nightly basis.
And nobody knew.
Then, one night, it happened.
It had been a rough day anyways, Sally was away in Dresden with Lulu and Rosie, and Cliff had unexpectedly run into a public preacher in the park, who reminded everyone they were all sinners waiting to go to Hell.
Cliff sat on the couch and watched the clouds go by, waiting.
When the sun started to go down, he scribbled something on a piece of paper, leaving it on the coffee table and heading out for his walk.
He left his coat at home.
The bridge wasn't up terribly high, and the water wasn't terribly shallow. Cliff sat down, letting his legs dangle, hanging onto the bars, readying himself.
Nobody came round to ask what he was doing, or /how/ he was doing, or what was going on.
They just walked by until there were no more people to walk by in the first place.
Cliff stood, took off his shoes and placed them to the side, took off his sweater, stepped back and-
"What in GOD'S NAME do you think you're doing!" someone shouted, grabbing Cliff's shoulder's and yanking him back so that they both fell on the wooden boards of the bridge, the man's arms firmly around Cliff's waist.
The fact of the matter was, Aziraphale had been out on a stroll on his way to a cafe he knew was open 24/7. He always got peckish at this hour and quite enjoyed the quiet walk by himself. The stars were beautiful. That was always expected. What was /not/ expected was him running into the young man who came into his book shop every week, the young man in question currently preparing to throw himself over the side of the bridge.
Cliff sat there in shock, trembling, tears slipping down his cheeks. Why couldn't he do anything right?
"Clifford, oh god, are you alright? Oh dear," Aziraphale said, shifting so that he could stand, but still hold Cliff. "Look, we're going to walk off the bridge together."
Gently, he got the man to the other side safely, setting him down on a bench, still hanging on to him.
"My shoes." was all Cliff could think to say. Aziraphale looked at Cliff.
"You never took them off, dear." he said gently. Mysteriously, Cliff was wearing his shoes and sweater again. Cliff looked at Aziraphale, still dazed, his chin quivering.
"I thought I took them off. I'm sorry, I can't do anything right." he whimpered.
Aziraphale's heart broke a little bit, and he pulled the man in close for a hug.
"No no no dear, don't apologize, there's no need to, you've done nothing wrong. It's alright." he assured, holding him close. Cliff let out a sob and hid his face, shame coursing through him.
They sat on the bench in silence for a long time. Long enough that Aziraphale felt safe enough to let go of Cliff's arm, and long enough that he felt confident Cliff could walk home and not faint on the way there.
"Cliff, I would ask that you stay overnight at my bookshop. Please. I just want to make sure you're safe." he explained tentatively, Cliff staring at the pavement. His hands were still shaking and Aziraphale took them and held them in his lap.
"What's wrong dear?" he asked, "You can tell me."
"I'm gay." he admitted, out loud. "I'm sorry, it's awful, I know, but I can't stop it." he sobbed, bowing his head.
Aziraphale's heart broke a little more, and he pulled Cliff in for another hug.
"Oh my goodness, don't apologize, it's ok. You don't have to stop it. You're allowed to feel those things. It's not awful. Love is not awful, Cliff," he said, cupping Cliff's cheek and wiping the tears away.
"Why don't we go to my place, and I can show you some books on the matter."
---
They did indeed go to Aziraphale's book shop but no books were read that night. Cliff fell asleep on the couch almost as soon as they arrived, though he woke up in a bed dressed in the softest sheets he'd ever felt.
Sally was downstairs with a cup of tea, relieved when Cliff came downstairs safe and sound.
"You worried me sick, not being there when I came home and then your note-" she said, tearing up. "Thank GOD Aziraphale called me. Cliff you scared me."
They talked for a long time that morning, and Cliff came out to the second person.
Sally hugged him and told him she'd love him no matter what, always.
Weeks passed.
Cliff spoke with Aziraphale some more about what had happened. He was sent home with a stack of books to work through. He had something to do now.
Some more weeks passed.
Cliff devoured the first set of books, Aziraphale checking in on him daily, still concerned he might try something again.
After the first set, Aziraphale gave him some more books, these ones less about queer history and more biographies of people who were queer and open about it.
Even more time passed.
And things got better.
Cliff finally began understanding that it was ok to be himself, and that maybe he didn't have to feel guilty about it all of the time. If all of these people had done it, and they were leading happy lives, maybe he could too.
One day, when Aziraphale was over for tea, he pulled out another book and set it on the table in front of Cliff.
Any ounce of confidence he might have had about his identity vanished.
/The Big Book of Coming Out. 500 Ways of Telling People the News/
"No. I- I don't think I-" Cliff stammered, pushing the book back. He'd come out to Aziraphale, Crowley and Sally because he trusted them enough to do so. Coming out to everyone else was different.
Aziraphale pushed the book back to Cliff.
"Yes, you can. I believe in you."
"I'm not sure I'm ready." Cliff said, heart pounding in his chest.
"You are ready. Cliff, you've been reading about this for months now. You can do this," Aziraphale reassured him. "Truth is, you're never going to be ready. You just have to do it. And I believe you can. Right now."
"I don't-"
"I'll be here to help you. Me, and Sally, and Crowley. Right here."
---
Cliff went with "Number 451 - Baking a Cake".
There were a myriad of photos with examples of iced cakes that had writing on top, or rainbow icing, but Cliff took an interest in the rainbow layered cake recipe that was listed in the book.
That afternoon, he went over to Aziraphale's place where everyone had been invited to dinner that same evening.
Cliff, in all honesty, was a whiz in the kitchen. He knew what the hell he was doing. Yeah his mother was kind of really terrible, but she taught her son how to cook, and how to cook /good/. Not to mention the metric fuckton of cooking shows. Cliff worked diligently all afternoon, about a million bowls in the sink and on the counter.
Around 3, time decided to suspend itself. The sunlight cast shadows across Aziraphale's carpet and the specs of dust floating around in the air hung for just a moment. On their shelves, the books slept peacefully, undisturbed. An un-iced cake stood out on the counter and Cliff leaned against the side, putting his head in his hand.
When Aziraphale didn't hear any commotion coming from the small kitchen in the back room he came to investigate, only to find Cliff's shoulders shaking and tears falling off his face once more.
"Oh..oh dear, did something happen with the cake?" he asked, coming a bit closer. Cliff shook his head no.
"Then what is it, my dear?"
"It's just...what if they don't like..."
"Nonesense, your cooking is delicious. Sally brought me some of those cookies you made for Halloween a while back. Scrumptious."
"No, what if they don't like /me/." Cliff said, gesturing out the hand that was covering his face. Aziraphale's feature's softened.
"Clifford, I promise you, everything will be quite alright. I promise." he said, taking the tall man's hands again. Cliff barreled Aziraphale in a hug, wrapping his arms around the man, thankful for the support he had.
---
Everyone arrived on time. Well, mostly on time.
Em was a minute late, but then again, Em was always a minute late.
The dinner went lovely, the actual meal a delicious recipe Aziraphale had cooked up.
Cliff sat at his seat, anxiously eating and chatting with the guests a bit.
It felt like an eternity before everyone was finished.
"Cliff, dear, would you like to get dessert?" Aziraphale asked, and Cliff nodded, getting up.
This was it.
His heart had never beat so fast than when he set the cake on the table, all beautifully decorated with white icing and silver little sprinkles on top.
Carefully, he cut off a piece to reveal the vibrantly coloured rainbow layers on the inside. Everyone at the table looked intrigued at it.
Cliff would never be ready, so why not now?
"I'm gay." he said to the guests. "That's...yeah..I'm gay." he said. There was a mixture of endeared "aww's" and supportive smiles. The quiet was broken by Bobby who smirked and said, "Wonderful. Now you can finally join us here at the Klub." which received its fair share of laughter.
Sally leaned on his side, smiling.
"I told you it would be ok."
Cliff smiled back through glassy eyes and squeezed her hand.
"Yes, yes, can we eat dessert now please?" Aziraphale asked eagerly.
---
As people left for the night, they all said goodbye to Cliff. Em gave him a big hug and a kiss on either cheek, proud of him for what he did. In fact, he got lots of hugs that night as people trickled out. Eventually, it was just Sally, Cliff, Aziraphale and Crowley.
"Cliff, I'm going to get some air, I'll be outside alright?" Sally said, her lighter already in hand.
"Okay, I'll just be a minute." Cliff replied. He turned to the two who had somehow almost../miraculously/ cleaned everything up. Crowley sat in a chair watching people outside, one leg dangling over the arm rest, while Aziraphale sat up on the couch all neat and proper, a book in his hand, a cup of tea on the side table.
"Thank you." Cliff told them, and both looked over at him.
"Ah no problem," Crowley waved it away.
"It was my pleasure, Cliff." Aziraphale nodded politely.
"No, really, you can't imagine how much help you've been. You uh, you've saved my life."
"Well of course, you are deserving of one after all. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come by. You're always welcome here for a cup of tea if you wish."
"Thank you, again. If I didn't know better I'd say you were angels or something." Cliff said, turning to leave. As he closed the door behind him and went to meet up with Sally he very unfortunately tripped down the stairs he /swore/ were there. Well, a good day can only go for so long. Brushing himself off, he went to go meet up with Sally, the happiest fellow in the world.
"That's what you get for calling me "angel"." Crowley called out from inside the house when he heard the young man fall onto his face.
"Now Crowley, we must be kind."
"We must be kind." he mimicked in a funny voice, standing up. "Kind, I'm not kind. I'm a demon."
Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, standing in front of him.
"Well in that case, you're a very kind demon."
He pecked the scary demon man on the cheek with a satisfied smile and walked away pleased with himself.
All was okay in the world.