[ Crowley gives a weak chuckle. So what if he might have buried himself in flower petals when he had a good wank? Maybe he just has a thing for silky softness, and can anyone actually blame him?
Deciding he'd much rather occupy his mouth with other things than implicate himself in having some rather peculiar fixations, he draws Aziraphale's index finger between his lips, sucking on it gently as his forked tongue curls around the digit.
He's never been so hard as now, watching Aziraphale stroke himself, yellow eyes half-lidded as he drags his fingers down Aziraphale's palm, over the sensitive skin of his wrist, tracing the path of the veins as Crowley feels the thrum of his pulse. ]
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Deciding he'd much rather occupy his mouth with other things than implicate himself in having some rather peculiar fixations, he draws Aziraphale's index finger between his lips, sucking on it gently as his forked tongue curls around the digit.
He's never been so hard as now, watching Aziraphale stroke himself, yellow eyes half-lidded as he drags his fingers down Aziraphale's palm, over the sensitive skin of his wrist, tracing the path of the veins as Crowley feels the thrum of his pulse. ]