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It had been a leap of faith to open the wall to the humans and to give them the sword, but not to trust them one more time. Once more they had used their free will, and choose neither heaven nor hell.
Throughout history, they had been alongside humans, had carved a place for themselves by tooth and nail, and now, finally, they could rest. They had a future now, and said future involved many new experiences, many changes in their lives.
“Darling, you moved that frame five times already. It's fine.”
“No it bloody isn't! I swear it is tilted.”
Aziraphale held his hand and rested his chin on his shoulder. For a moment, they just admired the frame.
It was new, but the portrait inside it was old. Not as old as them, of course, but old still.
They had posed for Leonardo so many years ago, and both held dear the first portrait they were able to share. In truth, for the longest time, the sketch had been split in two; Aziraphale hiding his in books, Crowley’s in the safe of his flat.
But not anymore. The shared portrait would be proudly displayed on the mantle of their fireplace, the seam separating the two figures still visible – it was part of their story, and both weren't keen on miracling it out – but not hurting anymore; the seam was there, but there were no more sides.
“It's great as is, dear boy.” Six thousand years, side by side, working together, and now finally they could hang it on the wall and not fear.
Crowley sighed. “I guess it is.”
Aziraphale went to release Crowley from his hand, but the demon turned to him and interlaced their fingers.
“How was it in the bookshop?”
“Muriel will take good care of it. We made sure to clean the heaven summoning circle, and everything that could connect to them again. They talked about turning it into a coffee shop… I don't think Nina would be too happy about it, so I convinced them to think of other options.”
Aziraphale gave a weak chuckle, and looked at their joined hands. It was good to finally have this.
“It was a bit odd seeing it so… empty, but I am happy.”
“You are?”
“I am.”
They looked at each other, and smiled.
Moving forward, together and away from everything that had trapped them, even if there were things they still didn't get the opportunity to try again.
Aziraphale thought it was past the time they did.
“You know, darling… I think you should do it again.”
That single cocky eyebrow that always was successful in driving Aziraphale mad made its way up.
“Do what, angel?”
“The kissing.”
Crowley's lips curled, that teasing smile of his.
“I thought you hated that.”
“Hated it?” Aziraphale huffed, and laughed. “It was all I could think about. It's a wonder I could do anything at all besides daydream.”
He reached up, tugging a strand of hair behind Crowley's ear, his hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck.
“The timing wasn't… ideal, but that doesn't matter, Crowley. You know I've always loved you, isn't that right?”
His breath hitched, his smile turned softer.
“Had my doubts, sometimes. But I'm sure now.”
“I'm glad. So, darling, do it again.”
Crowley clutched him close, an arm gently wrapping around his middle. Their chests touched, their breaths mingled; Crowley took his time, watching him, making him wait just a tad bit more. In the end, he closed his eyes, and leaned down, closing that last inch.
It was soft, this time. It was slow, had no rush, and was so overwhelming loving that Aziraphale found himself in broken sighs and teary eyes.
When they broke their kiss, Crowley nuzzled his neck.
“There's one more thing we should do again,” he murmured against his ear.
A click of fingers, and the gramophone started playing an old tune. Crowley raised their joined hands, and they danced.