[ He hopes that Aziraphale doesn't expect him to last. He truly does, because he already feels wrung out and hung to dry. His other hand joins its counterpart in Aziraphale's hair, cradling his head while he utters encouragements that grow increasingly nonsensical.
The combination of Aziraphale's hand and the heat of his mouth has Crowley reeling and every muscle feels tight, and his body feels too small around him, like a sweater that just shrunk in the wash.
He'd been cracked open once before, torn apart and cast away. This feels similar and yet somehow the very opposite. Aziraphale has gathered him up, taken him apart slowly and methodically, and replacing what was lost with something new and wonderful.
He chokes out a warning, though it's probably too late; his thighs shake as his back arches, and his orgasm rips through him so suddenly that his vision whites out.
He comes to shortly afterwards, feeling like a bowl of gelatin, and swearing intermittently between emphatic declarations of love and devotion, pawing feebly at Aziraphale's head to coax him back into the demons arms. ]
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Date: 2020-04-05 03:36 pm (UTC)The combination of Aziraphale's hand and the heat of his mouth has Crowley reeling and every muscle feels tight, and his body feels too small around him, like a sweater that just shrunk in the wash.
He'd been cracked open once before, torn apart and cast away. This feels similar and yet somehow the very opposite. Aziraphale has gathered him up, taken him apart slowly and methodically, and replacing what was lost with something new and wonderful.
He chokes out a warning, though it's probably too late; his thighs shake as his back arches, and his orgasm rips through him so suddenly that his vision whites out.
He comes to shortly afterwards, feeling like a bowl of gelatin, and swearing intermittently between emphatic declarations of love and devotion, pawing feebly at Aziraphale's head to coax him back into the demons arms. ]