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It was getting late. The last of Aziraphale and Crowley’s small group of guests had bid farewell and a miracle had set most of the cottage back to rights, yet the angel and demon remained outside in the garden, where remnants of the celebration remained. Black and white streamers hung from the branches of the ancient apple tree, and the flowers Crowley had carefully arranged (and threatened) into order still stood in their assortment of antique vases and the ornate archway they’d exchanged their vows under.
Finally alone together with some privacy, the newlyweds couldn’t quite bring themselves to let the evening end, so instead they swayed quietly in small circles to the music playing from Crowley’s expensive stereo, heads resting on each other’s shoulders and arms tightly wrapped around one another.
The music had been more of a mix between old and new, slow and fast while the guests were there, but now the songs remained quiet, gentle, and romantic, and of an era Aziraphale was more familiar with.
“I see skies of blue, and clouds of white. Bright sunny days, dark sacred nights. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world,” a man’s rich, gravelly voice crooned, as Aziraphale gripped Crowley tighter, the song reminding him wonderfully and terribly of everything they had been through– everything they had almost lost– to get to this moment, possibly the best in his immortal life. Crowley returned the embrace, and they swayed some more.
“Yes I think to myself… What a won-der-ful world…” The music tapered off, Crowley’s playlist coming to an end, and Aziraphale sighed, stepping back slightly and allowing Crowley to kiss him.
“A very fitting choice, my love,” he said, blinking a tear from his eye.
“Thanks,” Crowley said, his smile not fully covering the emotion in his own voice.
“And what a wonderful day it’s been… I suppose you may be wanting to turn in soon, though?” the angel sighed. “It’s been a long day and I know you didn’t sleep much last night.”
“N’yeah,” Crowley admitted hesitantly. “There is one more thing I’d still like to do tonight though...” He smiled mischievously and ran his hands up the back of Aziraphale’s white tuxedo from his hips to his shoulder blades and squeezed.
Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered shut as Crowley’s nimble fingers massaged his back.
“Are you serious?” he chuckled. “Now?”
“‘Course m’serious,” Crowley said, leaning in to kiss up the angel’s neck as he continued his ministrations. “It’s been ages.”
“I thought you said you were tired when Eric and Muriel left?"
“That was to get rid of them, wasn’t it?” Crowley laughed. “Come on, Angel, it’s our wedding night. What time would be better?”
Aziraphale opened his eyes to look into the gold of Crowley’s glinting, pleading ones and he knew he couldn’t have said no had he wanted to.
“Well how could I argue with that?” he hummed.
Without another word, Aziraphale rolled his shoulders back and his feathery white wings manifested with a flourish.
“Gorgeous,” Crowley breathed, running one finger gently down a silky primary, before he stretched and his own wings appeared on the Earthly plane, as ebony black as his tuxedo.
Aziraphale gawked appreciatively, a light blush spreading up his cheeks, and Crowley grinned.
“Come on Angel, we’ll have time for that later,” he laughed. “Let's fly.”
Aziraphale took his husband’s hand and as one they took to the sky.
Crowley was right, Aziraphale thought. It had been too long. The warm summer air rustling through his hair and feathers felt divine as, by an unspoken agreement, they flew off towards the nearby shore, Crowley's black wings gleaming irridescently in the moonlight.
The rolling green of the South Downs below them shortly gave way to the black of the night sea, the dark, calm water reflecting the clear, starry sky above them, so it felt as if they were flying in their own private universe.
Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand and the demon smiled at him, pulling him higher as the pair zig-zagged joyfully through the salty breeze. Crowley briefly released Aziraphale’s hand to perform a barrel roll and a backwards summersault, then grasped it again before swooping downwards dramatically, dragging the angel into a dive towards the gentle waves below.
Aziraphale gave a small, involuntary yelp, then laughed as together they pulled up short, just close enough to the water’s surface for Crowley to reach down and splash his fingers into it, sending a light spray at the angel.
“Fiend,” Aziraphale chuckled, batting Crowley’s wing playfully with his own.
The demon wobbled minutely in the air before coming about with one great flap to hover face-to-face with Aziraphale and bringing his still damp fingers up to card gently through the angel’s blond curls.
“A fiend you married,” he purred.
“Quite right,” Aziraphale breathed, his own free hand finding Crowley’s slender hip. “I’ve always wanted you, Crowley, all of you. Even when I thought it was impossible to have you. You’ve had a place in my heart from the very Beginning.”
“It was never impossible, Angel,” Crowley said, his fingers squeezing the angel’s hand tight in his own and brushing over his gold wedding band. “I was always yours. They could never really keep us apart. It was just up to us to find a way to break free.”
“Well I’m certainly glad we did,” Aziraphale said with a smile. He leaned his forehead against Crowley’s and they began to spin gently again, subconsciously floating higher into the air. “I love you so much, Crowley, my dear,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Aziraphale,” Crowley said. “I will forever.”
Their lips met again in a soft kiss and black and white feathers fluttered as an angel and a demon continued their slow wedding night dance under the stars that Crowley had helped make and whose future they’d helped rewrite together: the way that they’d always wanted to be and the way that they knew they would now always stay.
Together in their wonderful world.