Date: 2020-05-12 12:43 am (UTC)
inlovewithmycar: (heart eyes under the shades)
[ Crowley doubles over with peals of laughter when a few feathers swat him in the face. ]

Sorry, angel, couldn't resist.

[ He very well could resist, he just didn't want to. ]

You're not as tense as I thought you'd be - good, good -

[ Deft fingers still work the joint and comb through the rows of feathers. Crooked feathers are re-aligned, those fallen or falling out are removed and set aside, and he's particularly careful around blood feathers and new ones. Crowley has done this many times with his own wings, and both his and Aziraphale's are so similar aside from colouring that he suspects what feels good for him will translate well to the angel. He presses a kiss to the pinion and massages it with his thumbs. ]

Your feathers are so soft, Aziraphale. Just beautiful.
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