[ Crowley buries his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck after being incapable of salvaging some semblance of dignity because every touch elicits either another moan, or some deep, contented sound in him. He's never let anyone else touch his wings and Aziraphale seems to know exactly Still, he holds the angel steady on his lap, one arm at the small of his back, the other around his shoulders, leaving plenty of room for him to let his wings free.
And oh, they are ever so lovely. He watches them unfold and he's put in mind of white gardenias; one of the few flowering plants he grew. White and fluffy and just a bit unkempt, and his fingers itch to give them a good preening. There was something about the intimacy of all of it - these parts of them they kept hidden now all laid bare in the comfort of Aziraphale's bathroom. They're mostly dressed, but Crowley feels just as naked as every time they've been intimate.
With great care, he extends his wing to very tentatively brush with the tip of his longest primary flight feather, quickly retracting it. There are no sparks, no bursts of flames or the ripping of the time space continuum. It does send a pleasant shiver through him though, and Crowley extends his wing again for more extended contact.
He grins when nothing catches fire, and tenderly massages the feathery joints at Aziraphale's shoulders. ]
Look at us. So far so good, yeah?
[ Maybe it was because what everyone thought they knew about angels and demons wasn't actually accurate. Maybe it was just because he and Aziraphale weren't pure Good or unadulterated Evil. Maybe a combination of both or there were just other factors at play. Either way, these parts of them could, at the very least, touch without setting off anything too catastrophic beyond whatever was going on in Crowley's trousers. ]
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Date: 2020-04-22 04:15 am (UTC)And oh, they are ever so lovely. He watches them unfold and he's put in mind of white gardenias; one of the few flowering plants he grew. White and fluffy and just a bit unkempt, and his fingers itch to give them a good preening. There was something about the intimacy of all of it - these parts of them they kept hidden now all laid bare in the comfort of Aziraphale's bathroom. They're mostly dressed, but Crowley feels just as naked as every time they've been intimate.
With great care, he extends his wing to very tentatively brush with the tip of his longest primary flight feather, quickly retracting it. There are no sparks, no bursts of flames or the ripping of the time space continuum. It does send a pleasant shiver through him though, and Crowley extends his wing again for more extended contact.
He grins when nothing catches fire, and tenderly massages the feathery joints at Aziraphale's shoulders. ]
Look at us. So far so good, yeah?
[ Maybe it was because what everyone thought they knew about angels and demons wasn't actually accurate. Maybe it was just because he and Aziraphale weren't pure Good or unadulterated Evil. Maybe a combination of both or there were just other factors at play. Either way, these parts of them could, at the very least, touch without setting off anything too catastrophic beyond whatever was going on in Crowley's trousers. ]