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Put your head on my shoulder

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The year was 1960. Crowley woke one morning to a burning letter at his door. Probably just another temptation to be done on the other side of the city, it was normal at this point. He carelessly opened the envelope and read the letter, still half asleep. He figured he should request to be contacted through radio, all these letters were becoming a bit of an effort for him.


As Hell's representation on Earth, we have assigned you a new position in the suburbs of New York, America. You must tempt the teenage population with highly addictive drugs. On your arrival, you will go undercover as a high school biology teacher. Accommodation and equipment will be provided for you.

We expect great things, Crawley.''

He groaned loudly and looked around, scratching his head. How was he going to bring all his shit to America? America! Of all places!

He decided to run by the bookshop, first.

When Crowley had told Aziraphale where he was going, he demanded to go with him. He used the excuse of wanting to see the world before it would come to an end (which they both knew was a fat lie - Aziraphale himself was great friends with some of the founding fathers, as was Crowley. Neither of them acknowledged this, though.) The bookshop was miracled to look empty and abandoned, the outside looking dark and drabby but the inside still kept perfectly pristine behind boarded up windows. Crowley was given permission to use a teleportation miracle, something not often allowed due to the amount of energy it uses. Aziraphale just so happened to tag along in the teleport without being noticed. Crowley moved to a small house in the suburbs, while Aziraphale took on a town house closer to the local shopping district. He enjoyed looking at all the small boutiques and the lively diners, which London lacked.

Crowley was assigned to be a biology teacher, which he gladly accepted. Not that he knew much about biology, but it was a place to keep his plants and the students seemed to scare them more than he did. By a miraculous case of coincidence, Aziraphale just so happened to land a job as a religion teacher at the very same school. He knew all his students very well, and was loved by most of them. He clashed with the few students who wouldn't do homework, or would constantly talk, but he'd still offer them his support should they need it. He was widely known for his love of literature, but lack of English classes. He'd often recommend old, obscure books to his students, but every time they came back asking for another one. He knew exactly what each student would like, and he prided himself on that.

Crowley would tempt his students by saying that drugs are actually good for you, sort of like daily exercise. It kept you afloat and released dopamine. He'd also ''drop'' bags of conspicuous powder in the hallways, shove them through lockers and leave them in classrooms. He didn't do it very often, just when he thought head office would be doing a check in. The bags were always gone the next day, although whatever was done with them was a mystery to Crowley. However, he knew that there wasn't any apparent drug problem within the school. Aziraphale tried to reverse Crowley's damage by showing his classes graphic images of what could happen if they got addicted to drugs. If he saw any suspicious bags of powder, he'd take it home and dispose of it in his fireplace. Essentially, they were cancelling each other out. As always.

They both found that they loved working with kids, but they also loved working with each other. They'd get involved in the same clubs and try to go on the same field trips. The entire student body knew that they were good friends, it had almost become a kind of joke. If one of them was out sick (aka called on a last minute blessing/temptation) they'd often get told ''You look awfully lonely without him'' or ''It's weird seeing you on your own.'' Crowley would just shake the comments off, saying ''He's just a co-worker, the same as any other teacher.'' while Aziraphale would lament with something along the lines of ''oh, yes, it is terribly strange to not have him around, but I'm absolutely positive that he's doing just swell. Perhaps a cold has him away, he'll be fine regardless.''

They had grown comfortable. They liked their job and they liked having each other around. Often times on a Friday, Aziraphale would go to a local diner with Crowley for dinner, then they'd usually go back to Crowley's to have a drink or two. Crowley's house was much bigger than Aziraphale's flat. Crowley had a big back garden with lots of well tended flower bushes and a lovely corner with a table that had a large parasol attached to it, surrounded by 2 matching chairs. He covered the walls in fairy lights, just to add a bit of atmosphere. He'd often talk about wanting a koi pond and a chicken coop, but he didn't want to spend time setting such things up just in case he was called back to England. The rose bushes were enough for now.

One warm Summer evening, 3 years into their teaching careers, they sat in Crowley's garden with a glass each of cheap red wine.
''They're having the prom tonight.'' Aziraphale said quietly.
''Oh. Yeah, they are. I'm actually surprised you didn't sign up to chaperone that, I thought all that lovey-dovey romantic crap was right up your alley.'' Crowley sighed, talking off his glasses in the fading sun light, clicking his fingers to switch the fairy lights on.
''I mean, the idea of it does appeal to me. It just makes me sad, makes me wish I was human, I guess.''
''What do you mean by that?''
Aziraphale sipped his wine thoughtfully. ''Oh, just imagine it Crowley. A life without having to worry about Heaven and Hell. The constant pressure from the archangels is slowly discorperating me, I can feel it, and who knows when Hell is going to unleash the antichrist. I'd just like to be able to spend a night dancing with someone, not having to worry about all of this. It probably sounds silly. A celestial being wanting to live a lesser life, hm? I should be thankful for what The Almighty has bestowed upon me. But I don't want to do Her bidding. I want to stay here, Crowley. I want to teach at that school until I physically can't anymore, and I want keep on chaperoning trips with you and having the children tease us. But I can't imagine Heaven letting me stay that long. I'd say I'll be called back to England before 1965. I don't know how I'll do it.''
Crowley looked at the angel, feeling his heart break at Aziraphale's pitiful stare.

The demon stood up, fixing the collar of his jacket and snapping his fingers once more, causing a random doo-wop love record to play. He held out his hand for Aziraphale. ''I can't make you human. I can't take the impending doom of the earth away from you and I can't convince those arseholes up there to let you stay here. But I can dance with you.'' He tried to act confident despite his face turning beetroot red.

Aziraphale smiled sadly. ''Only for a moment, dear.'' He said softly. ''Don't want head office to see.'' He took Crowley's hand and stood. Crowley leaned closer to the angel, moving his free hand Aziraphale's waist, Aziraphale moving his free hand to Crowley's shoulder. They slowly danced around the garden.

''Don't worry about head office,'' Crowley whispered. ''If they don't know that you've been drinking with a demon for the past hour, I doubt they'll notice you dancing with one aswell.''
Aziraphale let out a small giggle. ''I suppose so.'' He smiled. They continued dancing around the garden until the needle reached the record's end. They both stopped and stared at each other.
Crowley decided to make his move. He pulled Aziraphale closer and moved his free hand to the angels face. Their lips barely brushed, when Aziraphale leaned back and broke free of Crowley's embrace.

''No,'' Aziraphale said softly, a twang in his voice. ''No Crowley. I... I can't, I can't risk all of this.'' He started to well up. ''I mustn't stay, I'll just cause trouble.'' He quickly walked back across the garden to the table, where his coat sat draped over a chair. Crowley followed him.
''Angel please, I went too far, alright? I admit it, that was a stupid move. Please, just sit down. We can forget this ever happen, yeah?'' Crowley tried to act as calm as demonly possible but he couldn't help the panic settling into his voice. Aziraphale turned around to look at him, coat in hand. His eyes had already gone red and the tears were pouring down his face. ''Goodnight, Crowley. Thank you for the wine.'' He said between choked sobs. He miracled himself invisible and flew away. Crowley only knew this from the sound of flapping wings in the distance. His stomach dropped past his feet and into the depths of hell at the dramatic exit.

On Monday, they didn't say anything to each other. Things were tense, and their co-workers noticed. When Crowley tried to spend break with Loretta, the school's receptionist, she seemed uneasy. ''Is Azzie sick? You usually spend lunches with him.'' Hearing the name made him ache. While Azzie is a real human name, it's a girls name that fell well out of fashion by the time the 1900's rolled around. Aziraphale didn't care though, of course he didn't. He used the excuse that it was an old English name. Thankfully, no one questioned him. It had developed into a kind of pet name that Crowley had found himself using just as much as he used 'angel' to refer to him.

''Dunno, I haven't seen him all day.'' Crowley lied. He'd seen 'Azzie' several times, and Azzie had seen him. Neither knew what to say to one another, so both pretended that the other didn't exist. That was, until Aziraphale couldn't take it any longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley spotted Aziraphale. He was walking over to where he and Loretta were sat with a look of desperation on his face.
''Oh Loretta dear, do excuse my barging in. I need a word with Cr- Anthony, if you don't mind.''
Crowley huffed in his head. It's been 20 years and yet his fake human name was still unusual to him.
''Of course not Azzie! I thought something was wrong, the two of you not talking. I'm glad things are okay.'' She smiled as she walked away. Aziraphale sat down beside Crowley on the couch.

''I'm sorry... About Friday, I mean.'' He tripped over his words as if the floor in his mind was littered with stray books. Crowley didn't turn to face the angel. He just stared on. ''Crowley, please.'' Aziraphale begged, ''I don't like being on bad terms with you. But you know how risky that move was. If... If upstairs found out, we'd both be destroyed.'' His voice was barely a whisper at this point. He stared at Crowley, waiting for some sort of response. There was nothing.

''Whatever way you feel about me, I feel the same.'' He said sternly, noticing Crowley flinch. ''That's why you must understand that I only left to protect us. Drinking with you is one thing, so is dancing. But any further than that is something else entirely. It's treason!''

Crowley moved his head down slightly, thinking. Aziraphale discreetly placed his hand on top of Crowleys, just for a moment. ''The torture you're feeling from this is twice as strong for me, believe me. I didn't want to leave on Friday, but it was either that or a bucket of holy water for you and a burning stake for me.''

Crowley finally turned to face Aziraphale. He let his glasses slide down the bridge of nose, exposing his serpent eyes for a quick second, before pushing the glasses back into place. Aziraphale noticed the tears brimming at his eyes. ''I forgive you.'' the demon whispered, ''But I'm not giving up on you.'' he said even quieter.

''And I'm not giving up on you either.'' Aziraphale replied.

Crowley and Aziraphale stayed situated in New York until 1987. Both had worked for and against the war on drugs, but eventually the action died down and it was accepted that Hell had won the war, with needless drug-related incarcerations increasing each year. As is usual, all the major stuff had been of the humans own doing. At most, Crowley caused an overdose or two, but never a death. In Spring of that year, Aziraphale was called back to England to bless those being effected by the AIDS crisis. Crowley followed him home, since he was no longer required to be in New York.

Leaving the school was hard. They were met with many gifts and emotional goodbye letters. Past students came back to say their farewells too, and the staff brought them on a big night out to celebrate all their years together. Aziraphale sobbed for a week straight. Crowley joined him in private.

Years passed. Armagedon't happened and they had settled into a comfortable life in the South Downs. Aziraphale had a small extension built to store all his books. He missed the shop terribly, but had grown tired of city life. His library was big for a household library, but it felt awfully small to Aziraphale. He promised himself that he would open up a new shop in the future. He missed having customers around.

Crowley designed the garden, of course. It had high walls and was quite large. The first quarter of it had sleek wooden decking, half of it being covered by a wooden canopy. He had bought a small table with 2 chairs to match that resided under the canopy. The other half had small plants in ceramic pots that Aziraphale had lovingly created as a way to pass time. Some of them were plain black, on Crowley's request, but others had pages from books plastered onto them and intricate carvings into the clay. The entire area was lined with fairy lights and solar lamps. The rest of the garden was plain grass, with impressive tropical plants lining the walls. There was a small wooden shed in the bottom left corner where Crowley kept all his gardening equipment, which had surprisingly grown very quickly. He had spaces planned for his chicken coop and koi pond, but wanted more time to fully plan them out (and to find out where the hell you can buy koi fish in the middle of rural England)

It was a Friday evening. The august sun was setting as the angel and demon drank 1960 red wine in their own little Eden. Crowley had stuck on some of his old records, between the heavy rock and somber guitar music, there was an old doowop record playing. Aziraphale looked at him and smiled.

''Reminds me of a certain night.'' the angel looked down at his glass. Crowley blinked, wishing he had a pair of sunglasses at hand to block the god forsaken sun from blinding him. The demon stood up, reaching his hand out. ''Want to try again?'' He said shyly. ''Of course.'' Aziraphale replied, smiling.

They danced for what felt like hours upon hours. It was soft and gentle, swaying from side to side. Aziraphale put his head on Crowley's chest as they moved. Crowley couldn't see it, but the expression on the angels face was intense, full of concentration. He had opened his mouth several times, but kept hesitating. He finally found the courage to say what had been on his mind for millennia.

''I love you.'' he said, clear and articulated with a twang of hesitation. They continued to sway, Crowley holding Aziraphale a little bit tighter.
''I love you too,'' He said, burying his face into the blonde curls. ''always have, always will.''

5 years on, the two were living their lives happily, for once. Crowley finally built his chicken coop and koi pond. He loved the fact that they now got eggs for free. While Crowley still wasn't all too fond of food, he took up cooking and would make Aziraphale the best omelets, quiches, crepes and cakes that he could bake with his minor prior experience in baking.

''Seriously angel, those chickens are the best thing to happen to this house!'' He said, scrambling some freshly laid eggs.
''Yes dear, and you're coming along with your cooking aswell! Maybe you could open a bakery in the village, that'd be nice. You could cook, I'd handle all the financial work, oh - I'd be head of quality control too, of course.''
Aziraphale had finally retired his waistcoat and bow tie, settling for the more cozier look of a nice jumper over a button down shirt. It suited him quite nicely, and Crowley appreciated the slight change of style. He sat in his arm chair, reading whatever book he decided to pull out of the library that day.

Crowley looked back from where he stood at the stove and smiled. ''I don't see any problem with that. It'll get us out of the house, for starters.'' He returned to the eggs. He quickly grabbed a hair tie and pulled his hair into a low, lazy bun. He'd let it grow out since armageddon't. It looked awkward for the first few months, falling in a strange way that made him want to go bald and start from scratch, but Aziraphale persuaded him not to. It had reached it's original length, reaching the small of his back. It made him feel free, strangely enough.

He finished the eggs, dishing them up and handing them to his angel, along with a cup of tea. Aziraphale made a little noise when he finished his first bite.
''Oh, my dear, these remind me exactly of the eggs they used to serve at that little diner in New York, the one we'd go to on Fridays. My lord - you really hit that one on the nose!'' He smiled excitedly. Crowley smirked at the comment and sat back in his own respective arm chair.
''I wonder if it's still there- the diner.'' Crowley thought out loud. Aziraphale continued to eat, thinking about the likelyhood of the restaurant being in business almost 40 years later. It'd been a bit of a no-go before they left in the 80's, but he secretly hoped that it had gone under new management and found itself back on its feet if the angel was so quickly reminded of their food after so long.
''Well, I don't see why we couldn't go and see.'' Aziraphale said after another fork full of eggs. ''We could make a little holiday out of it. Go and see if the diners still there, perhaps your old house might be for sale or have a showing, we could see how your rose bushes are! Oh, we could even pop 'round the school if it's open!'' Crowley saw the way Aziraphale's eyes lit up at the mention of the school. Of course he wanted to go back.

''Angel, you do know it's been 40 years since we taught there, right? And we worked there for about 30 years, I doubt any of the staff we know still work there, never mind even being alive. It'd raise suspicions, surely.'' Crowley said sadly. He didn't want to think about their friends and colleagues passing away, but it was a truth they'd had to face with every non-etheral/occult friend they'd made over the past 6 millennia. Aziraphale frowned, but still had a soft look in his eye.
''We could just say our fathers worked there, no one would know. Don't you think it would be nice to see it one more time?'' Aziraphale pulled out his 'sad angel' eyes and Crowley just couldn't resist.
''Fine.'' He muttered. ''But we're coming back here! I worked too damn hard on that koi pond and knowing you, you'll want to move there the minute we arrive.'' He pretended to be annoyed but couldn't hold back the admiration in his eyes.

Their trip was just one of those things that they'd always talk about, but never plan. It was just something they never acted on. Neither of them really wanted to travel, teleportation miracles were too risky and the flight was dreadfully long. They'd accepted that they wouldn't be returning to America any time soon. They would eventually, maybe when they run out of things to do in their cottage, but not right now. It had been months since they'd last mentioned it.

''Azzie, stick on that nice suit you have, we're going out.'' Crowley said one night, poking his head through the door of the sitting room where Aziraphale was reading. He didn't even wait for an answer, he ran to their room and grabbed his own black suit and began to change. After a minute, Aziraphale walked in and began changing too, but he was suspicious of what exactly Crowley had planned.

''Darling, why exactly are we getting into suits?'' He asked.
''It's a surprise.'' Crowley replied.
''Can I have some sort of clue as to where we're going?'' Aziraphale said, putting on his nice shirt.
''Well it wouldn't be as much of a surprise then, would it?'' Crowley responded, putting on the black suit trousers.
''Can I at least ask if it's going to be a long drive? There aren't many places that have a formal dress code around here.'' Aziraphale asked, almost whining, as he put on his white waistcoat.
''Asking questions is the kind of thing that makes a fallen angel, y'know.'' Crowley teased, buttoning up his own shirt. Aziraphale went silent for just a moment, then replied to the demon with a suspicious ''rather.''

Crowley wore a black suit with a grey waistcoat, a red shirt and a black tie. It made him look skinnier and lankier than usual, but suited him in a way. He wore his hair down and had put on a pair of his old sunglasses - it'd been years since he'd worn them. Aziraphale wore a cream suit with a light blue shirt, Crowley was certain he had put on his old brown suede waistcoat as well, but it was too hard to tell. One thing that Crowley had noticed were the golden wing cuff-links that Aziraphale wore. He had owned them since they'd become popular in the 1800s. For some reason, he didn't expect to see them again.

They got in the Bentley and drove off. Aziraphale rested his head on the window and watched the scenery change around them. He'd zoned out after 3 or 4 minutes and had stopped paying full attention to what he saw. They'd been driving for about 25 minutes when Aziraphale snapped out of his daze.
''Target? Crowley, did you see that? We just drove by a target - I thought we didn't have those?'' He said, immediately looking more alert.
''What? Angel, that store opened around 5 years ago. Do you not remember seeing all the adverts on TV?'' Crowley said this, knowing that Aziraphale couldn't simply watch TV. He had to be doing something with his hands, knitting, crochet, book refurbishing, anything other than sitting still. He didn't pay a lot of attention to what was playing on the TV in the first place, so he definitely wouldn't have paid attention to the adverts. Aziraphale gave Crowley a confused look, but soon settled back into resting his head on the window. Crowley thanked whatever demon or angel had caused the area to change so much. It was hard to recognize the town from all those years ago.

Crowley parked and got out of the car, quickly running over to the side Aziraphale was sitting on so he could open the door for him. Aziraphale tried to thank him, but lost his words when he realized just where he was. They were standing outside an old building. There were teenagers walking in and out of it in their own formal wear. They were in New York, at the school.

''Just so happened that they were having their prom tonight. The things you can find out on social media!'' Crowley tried to joke, but he was unsure of how Aziraphale would react. ''I remember, in my garden at the old place, you said you wanted to go to the prom. You talked about how you wished you were human, how you didn't want to worry about Heaven and Hell and Armageddon. Well, you don't have to worry about all that now. We're basically living human lives. I just thought you deserved to finally experience something so... well, human.''

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with what could only be described as a truly celestial expression. He jumped into Crowley's arms, almost knocking him over. ''Thank you, Crowley. I don't even know what to say, I'm just... I love you.'' He said, still hugging the demon. ''But I must ask,'' he pulled away. ''How are we going to get in? It's not like we have any business being here. Plus it looks... Well it looks rather 'dodgy' if you ask me.'' Crowley just smiled.
''We're invisible, of course. A little demonic miracle is all it takes.'' He reassured the angel.
''But then, how did we drive here? Surely you didn't use a teleportation miracle?'' Aziraphale asked, starting to worry about the traceability of their location.
''I didn't use a teleportation miracle. I was owed a favour by an old co-worker, no one suspects a thing.'' Crowley felt Aziraphale's eyes quiz him, but he didn't press on. Crowley took hold of Aziraphales hand and led him inside.

They walked through the main entrance. The halls were still the same, apart from a large TV on the wall and a trophy case. Inside the trophy case were old pictures, one specifically catching Aziraphale's eye.
''Oh darling, look!'' He said, rushing over to inspect the picture closely. It was of them at their goodbye party. They were sat close together and looked as happy as could be. Crowley's sunglasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly, showing the bright yellow of his eyes, but not the serpent pupil. Aziraphale's halo could be seen shining behind him, but to the human eye, it just looked like a badly composed photograph with an unfortunate window in the background. It was in an old polished wooden frame with a silver plaque screwed on. ''Mr.Anthony Crowley (Biology) and Mr.Azzie Fell (RE) beloved teachers and colleagues, 1960-1987''

Crowley noted how widely Aziraphale smiled at the picture. ''We could always take it home, Azzie.'' He said, inspecting the cabinets for any type of lock. ''Crowley, they'd surely notice if such an old photo went missing!'' He scolded. Crowley found the lock, and with a click, it opened. He took out the picture, looked at it for a moment, then clicked his fingers again to make an exact copy of the picture and the frame appear. He put the copy back in the cabinet, closed the glass and made a final click to restore the lock. He looked at Aziraphale and handed the frame to him. ''They won't notice it's gone.'' Crowley smirked. Aziraphale clicked his own fingers, sending the frame back to the Bentley.

Before they actually entered the prom, they walked around the school for old times sake. Crowley's classroom had remained unchanged. In fact, some of his old plants were still there, namely the cranberry brush and the Himalayan lily that he'd put so much time into but couldn't take home. Technically, they shouldn't be able to survive in a classroom setting, but future staff and students had loved them so much that they made sure they were always well taken care of.

Aziraphale's classroom had turned into an English class, ironically enough. The sign on the door said it was Mrs. Holly Flynn's room. Aziraphale pointed out the name immediately. ''Oh, Crowley! I used to teach her!'' He smiled wide. ''I'd hate to imagine how old the poor thing is.'' Crowley scowled. Were teachers wages really that bad nowadays? Aziraphale huffed at the remark, ''She only entered the school the year we left, silly demon. She was lovely though, we'd talk about literature sometimes after class.'' Aziraphale summoned one of his old books to appear. It was a very old novel from the early 1800's. He'd loved the story and was very close to the author, but she never became popular due to her refusal to use a pen name. Since she was female, she never took off, but still wrote books until her passing. He had 2 copies of each book, one that she would give to Aziraphale as a gift, and one he would secretly buy to up the sales of her works. He placed the book on her desk and took a post-it note and a pen to write a small message.

''My dearest Holly,

I'm very proud of how far you've come. I wish I was able to teach you for longer than I did. Take this book as a last recommendation.

Much love,
Mr. Fell''

''Oh, you sap.'' Crowley teased behind a kind smile. Aziraphale smiled back, and they walked out of the classroom, heading for the gym.

The gym was decorated with banners and balloons. The theme was 1960s, ironically enough. The girls wore dresses that poofed out while the boys wore suede suits in unusual colours and patterns. The lights were dim and had a purple tinge to them, and a disco ball hung off the ceiling. There was a makeshift stage, or had it been built in the years they were gone? A boy band dressed in baby blue suits were on stage. They were singing an old doowop song. Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and led him to the dancefloor.

They held each other closely, moving from side to side. Crowley looked at the angel in his arms and couldn't help but feel his heart explode in his chest. He took off his sunglasses and put them in his back pocket.

''Look at you, not wearing sunglasses in public. That's new.'' Aziraphale remarked, not to be rude, just simply pointing it out. Crowley smiled, glad that he'd acknowledged it. ''I just wanted to be able to see you better.'' He said, raising his hand to cup Aziraphales cheek. He leaned into the touch so softly, so tenderly, Crowley was convinced he'd discorperate right then and there.

He noticed the quiet tears falling down the angels cheeks. ''What's wrong?'' He said quietly, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Aziraphale let out a choked laugh, the light catching his eyes in a way that made the unnecessary breaths Crowley took hitch.

''It's just...'' Aziraphale began. ''I don't even know how to describe it Crowley. I just love this, and you, and having you in my life so much... All these years I'd been trying to convince myself that all I needed was the Almighty, and Heaven and the Holy Spirit, when in reality all I needed was you. You mean everything to me Crowley. I can't see my life without you in it.'' He began to cry a bit harder, smiling all the while. Something overcame crowley, very suddenly and impulsively. It was something he had thought about a million and one times, but had never planned for it to happen, but they were the only words that would come to mind.

''Marry me, Azzie.'' He said, subconsciously tightening his grip on the angels waist. Aziraphale looked blankly at Crowley, his eyes wide, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows raised. He quickly shook his head, the corners of his mouth curling up. ''Yes, my dear. Of course. I want to spent eternity with you.''

Now it was time for Crowley to cry. He tears burned his cheeks ever so slightly, but he didn't notice the sting under all the emotions that were welling up in his chest. ''Till death do us part?'' He asked, choking up. ''Till even after, my love.''

The only thing he could think to do was to lean down and kiss him. It was a lingering kiss, it lasted a bit longer than usual, and it was deep and passionate but at the same time, soft and tender. It was the build up of 6,000 years of waiting and wanting, finally over and done with. It was everything either of them had ever wanted and more.

After the prom had finished, they went on a hunt for the diner they had frequented all those years ago. To their surprise, it was still open and had improved significantly since the 1980's. They shared a bag of fries, reminiscing on their lives from all those years ago.

In their eyes, they had all they needed. Aziraphale had his human life which he had longed for since the beginning and Crowley had his chicken coop and koi pond which he'd spoken about for all those years. They had their up coming wedding to plan and the final walk around the school which they had loved to dearly. But most importantly, they had eachother. And that was all that mattered.