Aziraphale's hand is warm against his skin, a welcome touch. He turns his head, pressing a kiss to the angel's jaw as they embrace.

This could be forever, he thinks. This, them. If they survive what they have planned. If they rebuild the Earth. They could go anywhere together. They could go back to Aziraphale's bookshop, they could stay here in Crowley's flat. Hell, they could get their own little cottage in whatever's left of the south of England for all it mattered. They just wouldn't have to be apart anymore.

They'd just have to be very, very clever.

"I should probably let you sleep," he says, though his voice makes it very clear that's not what he wants to do.