[ Crowley has never had an orgasm like this. It's not the intense build-up and white-hot burst of endorphins, but rather a persistent and expanding pleasure that rolls through him like a heavy breeze. It lasts several minutes and he's left shuddering and gasping, clawing at the sheets as it builds to such intensity that he's overwhelmed. The only thing in his world at that moment is Aziraphale; his wings, his tongue, the warmth of him. It's everywhere, and Crowley's wings rise and fall, feathers shivering against Aziraphale's, until Crowley's strength gives out and he collapses, utterly boneless.
Panting for air he technically shouldn't need, he paws feebly behind him, trying to coax Aziraphale from his over-stimulated wings. ]
See?
[ He's weary, breathless, and all too pleased with himself. ]
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Panting for air he technically shouldn't need, he paws feebly behind him, trying to coax Aziraphale from his over-stimulated wings. ]
See?
[ He's weary, breathless, and all too pleased with himself. ]
...Was right about the wings.