Work Text:
There was just something about the rooftop at night. The little fairy lights that were strung up, and the plants and the herb garden that Crowley had planted. The little table that Aziraphale had brought up, off-white, almost grey, chairs placed around it. The antique radio that by some miracle, was still able to pick up a station and had very little, if not any, static interference at all. It was perfect, their own recreation of Eden, all to themselves.
The stars above them shining bright, the full moon bathing their surroundings in an ethereal glow. Aziraphale’s hand in his own, fingers interlaced perfectly, as if they were made for each other, and perhaps they were.
The radio changed songs, a familiar tune began to play, and Crowley could only squeeze his hand before bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. Aziraphale smiled, eyes bright and a blush overtaking his features.
Before Crowley could say anything, Aziraphale stood up, their hands still clasped as he gazed up at the angel. Aziraphale pulled, Crowley rising effortlessly if not slightly confused.
Aziraphale dropped his hands, instead wrapping them around Crowley’s shoulders, and the demon couldn’t help but smile. His own hands resting against the angel's hips as they began to sway to the gentle music that filled the air around them.
Aziraphale leaned in, their lips brushing in a sweet, tranquil kiss. One of Crowley’s hands coming up to cup Aziraphale’s cheek, intent on never letting the angel go.