Lips parting welcomingly, the demon keens softly into their kiss and the feeling of those strong arms holding them securely. If they could just stay wrapped in those arms for the rest of eternity, just like this, they'd be more than happy, even if they weren't on their own earth.

Crowley is already dreading the start of the day, the moment when all of the evening's magic is over and they're in separate beds. Will it be awkward, waking in a room with two strangers in the beds beside theirs? What do they call Aziraphale to others, now? Does the addition of admittance of love result in a change of title? Crowley has so many questions, typical for the demon, but for now they aren't in a rush to ask. Right now, all they want is Aziraphale's touch. And maybe a bit more wine... to celebrate, of course.