[ Crowley highly doubts that anything would ever ring so true as the angel's own words, but at least Neruda is hitting close to home.
A delightful shiver runs up and down his spine as soon as his fingers make contact with Aziraphale's lips and tongue and that sweet gentle pressure as the digits are lightly sucked.
Crowley feels dizzy, disoriented, and so terribly soft as he spoons Aziraphale close to him. His lips seek out the rim of Aziraphale's ear, flicking his tongue over it, before capturing the lobe between his teeth. When he trusts himself to say more than just a string of incoherent syllables, Crowley nuzzles up against Aziraphale's temple and manages; ]
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A delightful shiver runs up and down his spine as soon as his fingers make contact with Aziraphale's lips and tongue and that sweet gentle pressure as the digits are lightly sucked.
Crowley feels dizzy, disoriented, and so terribly soft as he spoons Aziraphale close to him. His lips seek out the rim of Aziraphale's ear, flicking his tongue over it, before capturing the lobe between his teeth. When he trusts himself to say more than just a string of incoherent syllables, Crowley nuzzles up against Aziraphale's temple and manages; ]
Could definitely say the same about you.