[Aziraphale has never slept, not once in all his time on Earth, but the combination of the comfortable nest Crowley's made of himself and the bedding and his own post-coital bliss has lulled him into as close to a drowsy state as he's ever been. He shares a few more lazy kisses before wiggling under the covers, maximizing the number of places he and Crowley touch, unable to get enough of the simple pleasure of their bare corporations touching.
Crowley's comment has him laughing, lacking any sort of self-consciousness as he drapes an arm over Crowley's waist, all the better to touch him in return.]
I'm glad you approve. I believe you had plans to keep me in this state for some time.
[ Aziraphale's laughter is infectious and Crowley feels his lips turning ever upward. He tries for wicked and devious, though the effect is rather spoiled by the naked adoration and tenderness in his gaze. ]
All sorts of things we can get up to like this. Plenty of time too.
[ Cuddled up nice and close, with their limbs tangled and their foreheads pressed together, Crowley rubs a soothing trail up and down Aziraphale's back. ]
I know we're both, uh, pretty new to this, so if there's anything specific you want to have a go at, I'm open to giving it a try.
[Crowley's smile is positively enchanting, that perfect blend of serpentine and sweet. Aziraphale can't resist and he nuzzles in for yet another kiss.]
All the time in the world, darling.
[He settles back down, warm and sated, smile turning bashful at the question.]
If you're amenable, I'd like to be inside of you the next time we make love. I've never had a preference in my fantasies, I'd like to see if the same holds true in real life. [He brushes his fingers along the small of Crowley's back.] And you? Anything you'd like to explore with me?
[ Because even if Earth made it to its natural end with the sun expanding and all that in quite a few billion years - they could still frolic off to other places. All the time they wanted was theirs. ]
Definitely. Very amenable to most anything with you so long as it doesn't involve sharp implements.
[ Crowley knew quite a bit more about what he didn't like than what he did. And what he didn't like was a lot of pain. But he suspected Aziraphale was, at least, on the same page there, and so Crowley is more than happy to indulge the angel's whims. ]
Otherwise, I don't think I really have much of a preference either.
[ That could change - in the few times Crowley had sex he was always on top. He'd never trusted any of his partners the way he trusted Aziraphale to show any kind of real vulnerability. But he suspected the only preference he'd continue to have is touching and being touched by Aziraphale. ]
...Though if we're ever feeling adventurous, got some soft ropes and silk scarves we could have a bit of fun with.
[At the mention of sharp instruments, Aziraphale's hold on Crowley turns a touch protective, brow unconsciously wrinkling in concern. He knows that there is a way to combine sex and pain consensually, but considering that Crowley's previous partners were other demons, he's not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt.]
I'm not harboring any dark desires, I assure you. Aside from the occasional love bite now and then, but you seem to enjoy those.
[The only thing Aziraphale wants to overwhelm his demon with is love and praise. They can work out the specifics later. Although a certain idea springs to mind when Crowley mentions ropes and scarves, one that sends an unexpected shiver through him.]
Oh, well... if you're interested, perhaps we could set up a... [A blush appears on his face before he hides it in Crowley's neck.] ...a scene? One in which I've gotten into a spot of trouble and you need to come to my rescue?
[ Crowley wants to reassure Aziraphale that nothing untoward has happened to him. That he always beat a hasty retreat before the hooks and chains and hot irons could make an appearance. He is certainly about to when Aziraphale hastily hides his face under Crowley's chin, and made a suggestion.
He is grinning so wide, he's fairly certain the top of his head is in danger of dropping off. ]
A scene.
[ He nuzzles into Aziraphale's hair, his chest shaking with barely repressed laughter. ]
Is that what all that fuss at the Bastille was? A scene?
[ He knew it. There was no bloody way Aziraphale would get captured by humans, miracles or not. Not unless the Revolutionaries were sporting iron chains with holy seals on them for keeping angels put, but Crowley doubted it. They both could just slide out of human perception when they wanted, completely off their radar, no miracles necessary. ]
Because it certainly worked. You in those lovely frills and heels - had me reeling for centuries.
[ He lets his voice drop an octave, and murmurs up against Aziraphale's ear like the seducer he's supposed to be. ]
You know, the only thing at lunch I wanted to have with strawberries, cream and a bit of lemon zest was you.
[Aziraphale groans into Crowley's neck, his blush traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears. He doesn't need to look to know that Crowley is sporting his infamous Cheshire grin.]
No... well, not intentionally... I was feeling peckish for crepes, and I had underestimated how out of hand the Revolution had gotten, but I never knew when I might run into you, either, so I made sure to look my best while I was at it...
[Which is more ridiculous, forgetting that he could have escaped without a miracle sooner, or sitting in that prison cell and hoping that Crowley would come rescue him. He might just have to live in the crook of Crowley's neck from now on. But Crowley's words have their intended effect; he shivers and looks up, checking the demon's face for any trace of sarcasm.]
We could still do that. After you free me from my chains. Or, ah... soft ropes, in this case.
[ Crowley is more than happy to house Aziraphale in the warmth and safety of his neck for as long as the angel needs. It's much more comfortable with him there, all nice and cozy in his arms. ]
You underestimated -
[ Crowley shook his head. As far as he could tell, the only thing Aziraphale had been underestimating is himself. ]
-Well you looked fantastic all the same. Always do.
[ There isn't a trace of sarcasm in Crowley's tone or expression. There's no place for those walls here. There is, however, a hungry look mixed in with the love and tenderness, making it clear the little cogs in Crowley's head are turning, oiled by the thought of licking whipped cream from Aziraphale's naked body. ]
So that sounds like a good evening for us? Or morning. Or afternoon. Not uh, picky about times either.
[Peeking up at Crowley's expression from the safety of his warm and cozy embrace, Aziraphale's blush starts to fade. There's no place for his usual walls to be up, either, and he can let his embarrassment fade and focus on the fact that Crowley is open and willing to his fantasy.
And what an image he offers, treating Aziraphale like a delicacy to be savored. Crowley is no longer the only one sporting a hungry look.]
Well... [He lets one of his hands wander, dragging a finger along Crowley's side as if he's sampling a bit of cream from the top of a tasty confection.] It should probably be at lunchtime. For the authenticity.
[ He has to wonder what it is about the lightest of caresses from Aziraphale that set his pulse pounding and his heart aflame. Divine love may be a distant memory, but he's fairly certain it never felt quite like this, warming every inch of him. ]
Oh yes. Very important to preserve the authenticity.
[ To say nothing of the warzone that surrounded them during their - Crowley's train of thought comes to halt as an idea occurs to him. ]
...Angel, should we consider all our little outings together dates?
[Aziraphale can't quite bring himself to say the main reason he'd like to recreate that infamous moment at the Bastille. It's to change the ending, to thank Crowley for coming to his rescue with more than just a meal. The fact that Crowley is willing to combine both sends a happy little shiver through him, and he nuzzles back into Crowley's neck.]
Mmm. You and lunch. Two of my favorite things.
[The question has him looking up at Crowley again, his expression contemplative as he thinks back to those meals and bottles of wines shared, trips to the theater and museums, or even simple walks in the park. What is a date, really, except time spent with the one you love?]
Oh, I... I suppose we could. They fit the criteria, don't they? Why do you ask?
[ This gets a laugh from Crowley and a partial sing-song. ]
Lunch at nice restaurants and demonic voyeurs, these are a few of your favourite things?
[ If nothing else, they could always bond over their mutual dislike for the majority of Rodger's and Hammerstein's oeuvre. ]
And yeah, I reckon you're right. What we've gotten up to fits the bill.
[ Right down to the fact they had often acted like a pair of lovestruck adolescents trying very hard not to get too close lest their chaperones find it inappropriate. ]
Just. You know. Wondering if you felt it should count. Always wanted to take you on a nice, romantic little outing though. Properly this time. No more looking over our shoulders.
[Aziraphale is far too proper to make a gagging noise, but his expression manages to convey his sentiment. Slyly, he runs his fingers up Crowley's side again, this time giving him a little tickle under his ribs.]
Yes, and demons who don't remind me of that song, especially in bed.
[He smiles at Crowley's reply, lifting himself up a little so that he can kiss him on the lips.]
Whatever they were, I don't regret a moment of the time that we spent together. But I do like your idea. Perhaps a picnic? I still owe you one of those.
[ Crowley, a demon of minor annoyances, grins deviously before the tickling has him abruptly curl in on himself, gripping Aziraphale for dear life as he laughs reflexively. ]
Menace with those fingers, you are. Bloody menace.
[ Eager as ever, Crowley returns the kiss, and lays a few of his own. ]
Nothing for it then - a romantic getaway to the seaside ought to sort you out.
[Who knew that demons were ticklish? Well, Aziraphale had an inkling, and he's happy to have been proven correct. He shows mercy by cuddling Crowley close and resisting the urge to tickle him again.]
Merely thwarting your devious wiles, dear.
[Each kiss is a pleasant reminder of how far they've come in such a short time. Or perhaps more accurately, removing whatever final barriers remained that kept this from happening for far too long.
It's one thing to suggest a picnic, another thing entirely to propose a romantic getaway to the seaside. Aziraphale's eyes widen, one of his most glowing smiles blossoming on his face.]
The seaside? Really? Oh, Crowley, we haven't been there in ages, have we? That's a wonderful idea.
[ Crowley loves this, the cuddling is especially nice and it cuts off a mock indignant rant about just who exactly has actually been plying their wiles all these years.
He feels lax and boneless, content and warm and very safe in Aziraphale's arms, regardless of what's happening in his groin at the moment. He ignores it, of course. He's gotten very used to ignoring the persistent little bugger for several millennia and it's quite second nature at this point. ]
Mm. Pack a hamper, take a drive, and it'll be just you, me, our nibbles, and a whole expanse of shore and sun.
[He wiggles happily, already anticipating what a romantic time they'll have together. It's then that he notices Crowley's arousal, and rather than ignore it, as Crowley seems to be doing, he turns a little in the demon's arms and presses up against him, smiling suggestively.]
My goodness, all that talk of fantasies and romantic outings has put you in the mood again, has it? Or was it the tickling?
[ Crowley makes a low gurgling hum at the back of his throat, and it's his turn to hide his face in embarrassment. ]
All of it. S'just - all of you, 'Ziraphale.
[ Maybe it would develop into a minor problem, or maybe, given a few centuries, Crowley would get used to it. Either way, at least Aziraphale didn't seem to mind for the time being and Crowley rolled his hips against Aziraphale's thigh. ]
[It takes all of the angel's willpower to not coo over Crowley's sweet response. He has to settle for making a happy sound deep in his chest and rubbing Crowley's back affectionately.]
It's all right, dearest. You have all of me.
[He slides his hand down to Crowley's pert bottom and squeezes, encouraging the demon to rut as he likes. No, he does not mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying his effect on Crowley, his body responding in kind.]
[ Just the smallest change to Aziraphale's usual endearment has Crowley coming apart at the seams. He aches with the wanting of it. Years and years of wanting and yearning, and now they can just be together and he feels truly free at last.
He's already wrung out and oversensitive from their last couple rounds and, coupling that with Aziraphale's grip on his bum, Crowley is unlikely to last very long at all. Still, when he feels Aziraphale growing hard as well, he has the presence of mind to stop rutting and adjusts their positions so he can take them both in hand, stroking along the lengths of their shafts.
Crowley presses kiss after kiss to Aziraphale's face, unable to reign in his smile, or quickening breaths. Not that he cares to anymore. Nothing to hide, after all. That will take some getting used to, but it's a change long overdue. ]
[He repeats it with the most adoring of looks, stutters it when Crowley takes them both in hand, and moans throatily as he begins to stroke. Crowley's touch, combined with the hard press of his cock, is a novel sensation that builds up his pleasure quickly, giving this round of their lovemaking a breathtaking kind of urgency.
He grips the meat of Crowley's bottom with one hand, the other burying itself in his hair. Twin points of contact to hold himself steady while he returns every kiss given, and then some.]
[ Crowley pants against Aziraphale's lips as he rocks his hips, sliding their cocks together in the deft grip of his palm.
Dearest. He'll never tire of hearing it. Or any other endearment Aziraphale picks for him. It could be absolutely ridiculous, and would only leave Crowley more besotted.
He doesn't last. He had no expectation to, at least, and he shakes apart, grinding back and forth between Aziraphale's cock, and the hand firmly gripping his rear. Even that shouldn't feel as good as it does, he thinks dumbly. Something else for them to explore another time,
Despite having just come (again), Crowley is persistent with each stroke, still sliding their cocks together, now quite slippery with his most recent release. ]
[Aziraphale has so many more terms of endearment for Crowley, pet names accumulated over the millennia that he never allowed to pass his lips. Words now archaic and others timeless, sweet sounds of affection in any language. But now, clutched tight like this, the hard slick of their erections together and Crowley's hot breath on his face, he only has the one. Dearest. A soft, gasping mantra from his very heart.
He feels Crowley climax, the desperate grind of him a telltale sign. Aziraphale comes just a few strokes later, thrusting into Crowley's relentless grip, whimpering from the sheer intensity of it. No, he is never going to tire from this, although he collapse back into the pillows once it's over, needing a breather. His hand massages where he had been holding tight to Crowley's rear, the other gently twisting the longer strands of Crowley's hair between his fingers.]
Oh, my goodness... that was... that was really something else...
[ Crowley gives a muzzy laugh, somehow both wrung out and yet dizzyingly energized, and craning his head to either lean into Aziraphale's touch or get him to pull harder.
It's only been a century and a half, maybe two (hardly any time at all for immortal beings who could exist outside such things), since Aziraphale had called Crowley his dear, but the first time had set the demons head nearly spinning off his bony shoulders. Every subsequent time had done little to desensitize Crowley - he had never expected to be anyone's dear, let alone their dearest, even Aziraphale's (however much he wanted to be). It's left his ridiculous human heart raw and aching from the joy of it, and it's a balm for old, soul-deep wounds he could never quite get to stop festering.
Every day he thinks he cannot possibly love Aziraphale more, and every day he finds himself eating his words. This wonderful, clever, contrarian, and absolutely brilliant angel, with his keen eye for loopholes and the best desserts.
Crowley can't stop smiling, and he kisses Aziraphale again. ]
Definitely something else. Out of this world. Absolutely wild.
[Aziraphale accommodates without thinking, alternatively tugging on his hair and rubbing it soothingly at the roots. They're spent and sticky, but he keeps Crowley close anyway, the soft swell of his stomach fitting perfectly against Crowley's hollow belly, still a little light-headed in his post-coital bliss.
It felt only natural to call Crowley 'dear'. The safest term of endearment when they could never be sure who was eavesdropping. He's bummed that he missed out on 'chuckaboo', that was one of his favorites. Maybe he'll take it out for a spin one day, but he has a few others to get through first.]
I love you, too, darling. My treasure. Closest to my heart.
[He punctuates his words with a kiss in return. He'll never tire of those, either.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Crowley's comment has him laughing, lacking any sort of self-consciousness as he drapes an arm over Crowley's waist, all the better to touch him in return.]
I'm glad you approve. I believe you had plans to keep me in this state for some time.
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[ Aziraphale's laughter is infectious and Crowley feels his lips turning ever upward. He tries for wicked and devious, though the effect is rather spoiled by the naked adoration and tenderness in his gaze. ]
All sorts of things we can get up to like this. Plenty of time too.
[ Cuddled up nice and close, with their limbs tangled and their foreheads pressed together, Crowley rubs a soothing trail up and down Aziraphale's back. ]
I know we're both, uh, pretty new to this, so if there's anything specific you want to have a go at, I'm open to giving it a try.
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All the time in the world, darling.
[He settles back down, warm and sated, smile turning bashful at the question.]
If you're amenable, I'd like to be inside of you the next time we make love. I've never had a preference in my fantasies, I'd like to see if the same holds true in real life. [He brushes his fingers along the small of Crowley's back.] And you? Anything you'd like to explore with me?
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[ Because even if Earth made it to its natural end with the sun expanding and all that in quite a few billion years - they could still frolic off to other places. All the time they wanted was theirs. ]
Definitely. Very amenable to most anything with you so long as it doesn't involve sharp implements.
[ Crowley knew quite a bit more about what he didn't like than what he did. And what he didn't like was a lot of pain. But he suspected Aziraphale was, at least, on the same page there, and so Crowley is more than happy to indulge the angel's whims. ]
Otherwise, I don't think I really have much of a preference either.
[ That could change - in the few times Crowley had sex he was always on top. He'd never trusted any of his partners the way he trusted Aziraphale to show any kind of real vulnerability. But he suspected the only preference he'd continue to have is touching and being touched by Aziraphale. ]
...Though if we're ever feeling adventurous, got some soft ropes and silk scarves we could have a bit of fun with.
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I'm not harboring any dark desires, I assure you. Aside from the occasional love bite now and then, but you seem to enjoy those.
[The only thing Aziraphale wants to overwhelm his demon with is love and praise. They can work out the specifics later. Although a certain idea springs to mind when Crowley mentions ropes and scarves, one that sends an unexpected shiver through him.]
Oh, well... if you're interested, perhaps we could set up a... [A blush appears on his face before he hides it in Crowley's neck.] ...a scene? One in which I've gotten into a spot of trouble and you need to come to my rescue?
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He is grinning so wide, he's fairly certain the top of his head is in danger of dropping off. ]
A scene.
[ He nuzzles into Aziraphale's hair, his chest shaking with barely repressed laughter. ]
Is that what all that fuss at the Bastille was? A scene?
[ He knew it. There was no bloody way Aziraphale would get captured by humans, miracles or not. Not unless the Revolutionaries were sporting iron chains with holy seals on them for keeping angels put, but Crowley doubted it. They both could just slide out of human perception when they wanted, completely off their radar, no miracles necessary. ]
Because it certainly worked. You in those lovely frills and heels - had me reeling for centuries.
[ He lets his voice drop an octave, and murmurs up against Aziraphale's ear like the seducer he's supposed to be. ]
You know, the only thing at lunch I wanted to have with strawberries, cream and a bit of lemon zest was you.
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No... well, not intentionally... I was feeling peckish for crepes, and I had underestimated how out of hand the Revolution had gotten, but I never knew when I might run into you, either, so I made sure to look my best while I was at it...
[Which is more ridiculous, forgetting that he could have escaped without a miracle sooner, or sitting in that prison cell and hoping that Crowley would come rescue him. He might just have to live in the crook of Crowley's neck from now on. But Crowley's words have their intended effect; he shivers and looks up, checking the demon's face for any trace of sarcasm.]
We could still do that. After you free me from my chains. Or, ah... soft ropes, in this case.
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You underestimated -
[ Crowley shook his head. As far as he could tell, the only thing Aziraphale had been underestimating is himself. ]
-Well you looked fantastic all the same. Always do.
[ There isn't a trace of sarcasm in Crowley's tone or expression. There's no place for those walls here. There is, however, a hungry look mixed in with the love and tenderness, making it clear the little cogs in Crowley's head are turning, oiled by the thought of licking whipped cream from Aziraphale's naked body. ]
So that sounds like a good evening for us? Or morning. Or afternoon. Not uh, picky about times either.
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And what an image he offers, treating Aziraphale like a delicacy to be savored. Crowley is no longer the only one sporting a hungry look.]
Well... [He lets one of his hands wander, dragging a finger along Crowley's side as if he's sampling a bit of cream from the top of a tasty confection.] It should probably be at lunchtime. For the authenticity.
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Oh yes. Very important to preserve the authenticity.
[ To say nothing of the warzone that surrounded them during their - Crowley's train of thought comes to halt as an idea occurs to him. ]
...Angel, should we consider all our little outings together dates?
[ Always asking the important questions he is. ]
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Mmm. You and lunch. Two of my favorite things.
[The question has him looking up at Crowley again, his expression contemplative as he thinks back to those meals and bottles of wines shared, trips to the theater and museums, or even simple walks in the park. What is a date, really, except time spent with the one you love?]
Oh, I... I suppose we could. They fit the criteria, don't they? Why do you ask?
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Lunch at nice restaurants and demonic voyeurs, these are a few of your favourite things?
[ If nothing else, they could always bond over their mutual dislike for the majority of Rodger's and Hammerstein's oeuvre. ]
And yeah, I reckon you're right. What we've gotten up to fits the bill.
[ Right down to the fact they had often acted like a pair of lovestruck adolescents trying very hard not to get too close lest their chaperones find it inappropriate. ]
Just. You know. Wondering if you felt it should count. Always wanted to take you on a nice, romantic little outing though. Properly this time. No more looking over our shoulders.
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Yes, and demons who don't remind me of that song, especially in bed.
[He smiles at Crowley's reply, lifting himself up a little so that he can kiss him on the lips.]
Whatever they were, I don't regret a moment of the time that we spent together. But I do like your idea. Perhaps a picnic? I still owe you one of those.
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Menace with those fingers, you are. Bloody menace.
[ Eager as ever, Crowley returns the kiss, and lays a few of his own. ]
Nothing for it then - a romantic getaway to the seaside ought to sort you out.
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Merely thwarting your devious wiles, dear.
[Each kiss is a pleasant reminder of how far they've come in such a short time. Or perhaps more accurately, removing whatever final barriers remained that kept this from happening for far too long.
It's one thing to suggest a picnic, another thing entirely to propose a romantic getaway to the seaside. Aziraphale's eyes widen, one of his most glowing smiles blossoming on his face.]
The seaside? Really? Oh, Crowley, we haven't been there in ages, have we? That's a wonderful idea.
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He feels lax and boneless, content and warm and very safe in Aziraphale's arms, regardless of what's happening in his groin at the moment. He ignores it, of course. He's gotten very used to ignoring the persistent little bugger for several millennia and it's quite second nature at this point. ]
Mm. Pack a hamper, take a drive, and it'll be just you, me, our nibbles, and a whole expanse of shore and sun.
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[He wiggles happily, already anticipating what a romantic time they'll have together. It's then that he notices Crowley's arousal, and rather than ignore it, as Crowley seems to be doing, he turns a little in the demon's arms and presses up against him, smiling suggestively.]
My goodness, all that talk of fantasies and romantic outings has put you in the mood again, has it? Or was it the tickling?
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All of it. S'just - all of you, 'Ziraphale.
[ Maybe it would develop into a minor problem, or maybe, given a few centuries, Crowley would get used to it. Either way, at least Aziraphale didn't seem to mind for the time being and Crowley rolled his hips against Aziraphale's thigh. ]
Can never get my fill of you.
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It's all right, dearest. You have all of me.
[He slides his hand down to Crowley's pert bottom and squeezes, encouraging the demon to rut as he likes. No, he does not mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying his effect on Crowley, his body responding in kind.]
I can easily say the same.
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[ Just the smallest change to Aziraphale's usual endearment has Crowley coming apart at the seams. He aches with the wanting of it. Years and years of wanting and yearning, and now they can just be together and he feels truly free at last.
He's already wrung out and oversensitive from their last couple rounds and, coupling that with Aziraphale's grip on his bum, Crowley is unlikely to last very long at all. Still, when he feels Aziraphale growing hard as well, he has the presence of mind to stop rutting and adjusts their positions so he can take them both in hand, stroking along the lengths of their shafts.
Crowley presses kiss after kiss to Aziraphale's face, unable to reign in his smile, or quickening breaths. Not that he cares to anymore. Nothing to hide, after all. That will take some getting used to, but it's a change long overdue. ]
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[He repeats it with the most adoring of looks, stutters it when Crowley takes them both in hand, and moans throatily as he begins to stroke. Crowley's touch, combined with the hard press of his cock, is a novel sensation that builds up his pleasure quickly, giving this round of their lovemaking a breathtaking kind of urgency.
He grips the meat of Crowley's bottom with one hand, the other burying itself in his hair. Twin points of contact to hold himself steady while he returns every kiss given, and then some.]
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Dearest. He'll never tire of hearing it. Or any other endearment Aziraphale picks for him. It could be absolutely ridiculous, and would only leave Crowley more besotted.
He doesn't last. He had no expectation to, at least, and he shakes apart, grinding back and forth between Aziraphale's cock, and the hand firmly gripping his rear. Even that shouldn't feel as good as it does, he thinks dumbly. Something else for them to explore another time,
Despite having just come (again), Crowley is persistent with each stroke, still sliding their cocks together, now quite slippery with his most recent release. ]
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He feels Crowley climax, the desperate grind of him a telltale sign. Aziraphale comes just a few strokes later, thrusting into Crowley's relentless grip, whimpering from the sheer intensity of it. No, he is never going to tire from this, although he collapse back into the pillows once it's over, needing a breather. His hand massages where he had been holding tight to Crowley's rear, the other gently twisting the longer strands of Crowley's hair between his fingers.]
Oh, my goodness... that was... that was really something else...
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It's only been a century and a half, maybe two (hardly any time at all for immortal beings who could exist outside such things), since Aziraphale had called Crowley his dear, but the first time had set the demons head nearly spinning off his bony shoulders. Every subsequent time had done little to desensitize Crowley - he had never expected to be anyone's dear, let alone their dearest, even Aziraphale's (however much he wanted to be). It's left his ridiculous human heart raw and aching from the joy of it, and it's a balm for old, soul-deep wounds he could never quite get to stop festering.
Every day he thinks he cannot possibly love Aziraphale more, and every day he finds himself eating his words. This wonderful, clever, contrarian, and absolutely brilliant angel, with his keen eye for loopholes and the best desserts.
Crowley can't stop smiling, and he kisses Aziraphale again. ]
Definitely something else. Out of this world. Absolutely wild.
[ Another kiss, slower, softer this time. ]
I really do love you, angel.
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It felt only natural to call Crowley 'dear'. The safest term of endearment when they could never be sure who was eavesdropping. He's bummed that he missed out on 'chuckaboo', that was one of his favorites. Maybe he'll take it out for a spin one day, but he has a few others to get through first.]
I love you, too, darling. My treasure. Closest to my heart.
[He punctuates his words with a kiss in return. He'll never tire of those, either.]
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