Chapter Text
Aziraphale smiles broadly at Anathema as she raps quietly on the door and slips into the room he and Crowley will share tonight. It’s a gorgeous room. Firm king-sized bed with four towering posts. A sleek velvet couch with a luxe cashmere blanket for when the sun sets and the temperature starts to drop. In the bathroom is an oversized copper soaking tub big enough for the two of them to sink into entirely. At the end of the night it will be seemingly miraculously filled. Steaming and fragrant. And sat next to it will be a chilled bottle of prosecco (These grapes are grown in the South Downs, after all, not France.) and two delicate flutes. The bed will be turned down and the silky sheets won’t possibly provide enough traction, but they’ll improvise and figure it out and make love for the first time as husband and husband. And tomorrow morning, if they can drag themselves out of bed, there will be breakfast ready for them on their balcony overlooking the vineyard below.
He reaches out for Anathema’s hand. “Is he freaking out? He’s freaking out, isn’t he? I told him a million times we should just get ready together. But he insisted.”
She smiles fondly. “He’s a romantic. Couldn’t do without that first look. Same reason he got those shoes with blue soles.”
“Is that a yes then?”
She snorts. “Absolutely. He’ll be fine once he gets out there. Just like that first time on stage. Hit hard with the butterflies until the music hits.” Aziraphale can’t keep the grin off of his face anytime he thinks of Crowley on stage. He comes alive with music. Aziraphale can’t wait until their first dance. He loves dancing with Crowley. Does it every chance he gets.
She pins a matching boutonniere onto his lapel. The delicate baby’s breath and dusty eucalyptus pop against the black of his suit. Crowley’s idea. For Aziraphale to wear black while he wore white. Surprise their guests a little. Aziraphale’s sure that Crowley just wanted to feel like they were merging in every possible way. It doesn’t matter to Aziraphale why. He knows Crowley will look handsome as anything no matter what he wears.
“I told Tracy five minutes. Are you ready?”
He touches his pocket and feels the paper crinkle underneath. He’s sure that his vows will never say everything he’s feeling. But he could write a tome and it still wouldn’t adequately capture his love for Crowley. “I hope so.”
Anathema slips a gold band into his palm. His hand shakes as he closes his fist around it.
“Nervous?”
He shrugs. “It’s just felt like a long time coming. But at the same time, like we only just met. Either way, it feels right.”
She bumps him with her elbow as she circles him. Stops and picks a stray hair from his trousers. “Save it for the vows, ya softie.”
Aziraphale straightens his bowtie in the mirror and takes a deep breath. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” He follows Anathema through the door and down the winding halls of the little villa they’re staying in. As he passes the windows, he can see their guests seated below. They got lucky with the weather. Sunny and warm. Blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds. The vineyard just beyond is lush and green and blooming with the first tight green clusters that will turn into juicy red and white grapes late in the summer.
Instead of rows their friends and a small handful of family members are arranged in small half circles separated by two opposing aisles. Crowley and Aziraphale will come down either side and meet in the middle. Give their vows literally surrounded by the people who they love most in the world. Tracy will escort Crowley to the ceremony and Anathema will escort Aziraphale. And they’ll walk themselves down the aisle to one another. Meet in the middle. This was Crowley’s idea too. After their little spat Aziraphale had stepped back and let Crowley have more say. And he’s so grateful that he did. Today feels like both of them, instead of just Aziraphale. It feels right.
On the stairs Aziraphale’s heart starts to misbehave. He knows his cheeks are starting to pink with nervousness. Anathema squeezes his arm and urges him along. The grass gives softly under his feet as they approach the guests. He tries to focus on it. A distraction to keep him from sweating through his suit. Anathema leaves him at the end of the aisle and continues on to the center where she’ll officiate the wedding. He bounces on his toes and tries to quiet his racing mind. Tries to ignore all of the smiling faces looking at him. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Two matching flashes of red hair. Long narrow legs and sinuous swagger. White trousers, white shirt, white jacket. A flash of blue as he lifts his feet. Aziraphale can feel his eyes begin to brim already. His heart races faster. His lips quirk up at either side until he’s beaming. Tracy kisses Crowley on the cheek and slips away and when he looks up its like that first time all over again. That same sense of wonder. That same rush of lust. That same knee weakening warmth in his belly. He knows by the look on his face that Crowley feels the same.
The air is filled with a familiar orchestral arrangement. Crowley had chosen the music. It was supposed to be a surprise for Aziraphale. He was happy to leave the decision to him. When it finally clicks, Aziraphale knows he’s done for. A tear slips down his cheek at the same time that Crowley’s chin wobbles.
At last
My love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
They both laugh as they take their first steps down the aisle. At themselves. At each other. They walk too fast. Both of them. They reach each other before the end of the second verse. And they aren’t supposed to, not yet, but Aziraphale doesn’t even realize they are until it’s too late. They’re surrounded by laughter as Crowley takes his face in his palms and their lips touch, salty and sweet.
Oh, yeah, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you