[Aziraphale only knows vaguely what Crowley is referring to with this 'twitter war' business. Something to do with people arguing with one another on the internet. which he's more than happy to leave to Crowley. He bumps back and chuckles in amusement.]
I may not need to thwart your wiles any longer, but old habits die hard, my dear.
[His amusement continues when Crowley treats him like a pillow that he needs to more effectively cuddle up against. He readjusts his arms around the demon in turn, maximizing their comfort.]
Duly noted. If you come across any endearing animal photos in the midst of one of your twitter wars, please send them my way. You know I like those.
[It's about all the internet is good for, is the conclusion he's come to.]
[ There's a soft chuckle from Crowley. Ah, yes, ever since 'I can has cheeseburger', Crowley has been gradually trying to chip away at Aziraphale's aversion to modern technology. He'll have to gradually start showing him food blogs and the DIY section of YouTube. ]
You know, I'm really not sure if I should take you 'thwarting my wiles' as the innuendo it always sounded like...
[ Crowley has always suspected Aziraphale would be warm and comfortable to cuddle up to, but he never dreamed the reality would so thoroughly trump the fantasy. It's hard to find an angle he likes best. ]
'Get thee behind me foul fiend'? As if you'd ever have to ask.
[ He doesn't squeeze Aziraphale's bum, but the palm of his hand ghosts over the swell of his buttocks so the angel gets the picture. ]
[Aziraphale doesn't really understand the memes, but the cats are cute. He actually went out of his way to enquire about Maru, wanting to see more videos of the box-loving cat after Crowley showed him the first one.]
I do beg your pardon.
[His mildly incredulous expression -- what innuendo? -- is replaced with a blush and involuntary wiggle against Crowley's hand.]
That phrasing does sound rather like a double entendre in light of recent events, doesn't it? Perhaps that Freud fellow was onto something, after all.
[ Aziraphale's little wiggle into his palms is all the invitation Crowley needs to grab a couple of handfuls and squeezing just above his thighs. ]
Might've been. The whole weird fixation on parents seemed a bit off though. Methinks Dr. Freud might've been projecting a little. ...Or a lot, actually.
[ He mouths over Aziraphale's throat, licking into that dip in his collarbone. Crowley really cannot seem to get enough of him. ]
Might've had a few slips myself, every now and then.
[Aziraphale squeaks audibly at that double squeeze, even though he really should have seen it coming. His hands skim over Crowley's lithe frame, either looking for revenge or simply not wanting to be left out of the fun.]
Freud fixated on a lot of things, dear...
[He moans softly at the way Crowley mouths at him, hooking his leg over the demon's to draw them closer together.]
Is that so? I always assumed that was simply part of your charm... silver-tongued devil and whatnot...
[ Crowley gives a reflexive chuckle at Aziraphale's touch. It tickles, but in a pleasant way, like nestling into warm silk sheets. And while one hand remains firmly planted on the angel's bum (he may or may not have stolen a few appreciative glances over the centuries), the other glides over the thigh hooked around his hips. ]
Better make sure you keep this silver tongue occupied then. There's no telling what mischief it's liable to get up to.
[ He flicks his tongue, the split tip tickling the underside of Aziraphale's chin while Crowley looks terribly pleased with himself. ]
[Crowley's laughter is infectious, and he finds himself giggling for no good reason other than it feels good to do so. He feels so relaxed and utterly content, his heart light and open to whatever might happen next.
Then Crowley tickles his chin and draws another giggle out of the angel. One hand settles at the small of his back, the other teasing over a nipple in the space between them.]
Mmm, I'm sure that you can find mischief no matter how well occupied your tongue is, but if you insist...
[He captures Crowley's mouth in a kiss, and though his tongue is not nearly so special as a serpent's, he manages to keep Crowley's busy without any trouble.]
[ Crowley could, indeed, get up to all kinds of mischief even with his tongue so thoroughly occupied in mapping every corner of Aziraphale's mouth. His fingers are fully occupied with stroking and kneading into the meat of the angel's ass and thigh, loving the soft give and the hint of firmer muscle. When Aziraphale starts teasing his nipple, the whine from Crowley is utterly wanton. ]
Angel -
[ He's breathless, already flushed and panting, aching for Aziraphale's touch. There aren't words for how good it feels, like little jolts of electricity down his spine, going right to his groin.
His fervour redoubles, kisses growing hungry and his idle groping becomes more deliberate. ]
[Aziraphale never would have imagined enjoying the way Crowley kneads the soft curves of his corporation, but it's a sign of how attractive the demon finds him, and besides, it feels good, a nice firm pressure down to the muscle underneath. He squeezes with the thigh hooked over Crowley's leg, reminding the demon of his strength. He has a feeling that he'll appreciate it.
He patiently circles the nipple with his index and middle fingers, then gently pinches it before Crowley becomes complacent to the sensation. The whine that results is matched with a chuckle that's only partly muffled by their kisses.]
Yes, darling? Something -- mmmph -- I can do for you?
[ Crowley does, indeed, appreciate it. The sign of Aziraphale's many hidden depths - the ones Heaven ignored because they took every little thing at face value.
Aziraphale, his soft angel, but also strong and resilient and so very brave; Crowley love him more with every moment.
The attention to his nipple has him arching and writhing in pleasure. It's like Aziraphale knows just how to render Crowley a mass of emotions with pinpoint precision.
Unable to articulate much else aside from the breathless utterings of the angel's name and several nonsensical endearments, Crowley rolls Aziraphale onto his back, one narrow thigh pressed firmly between his legs as he kisses him hungrily. ]
[Aziraphale makes note of the delightful way Crowley writhes at his touch, adding it to the catalogue of all the other things that have transpired this evening, wanting to commit each one to memory.
When Crowley answers his question with nonsense, Aziraphale can't help but smile, pleased with how he's rendered the demon inarticulate. He'd tease him about that supposed silver tongue, but then Crowley finds his own way to respond, rather effectively in fact, as the angel now has a thigh pressing up against his cock, already hard from their latest bout of kissing and innuendo.
He returns each kiss just as fervently, hands still exploring Crowley's chest, pinching gently at the other nipple.]
[ A shudder runs through the demon as his other nipple gets some attention. If he were able to form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought that isn't rubbing every conceivable surface of his corporation against Aziraphale, he might wonder if this is why that horrid little man Shadwell was so convinced three or more nipples were a gateway to rapturous carnal delights.
He might even have concocted a scheme to potentially insinuate he was, in fact, tri or even quad nipples if he ever found himself unfortunate enough to be in the man's presence again.
Fortunately, smothering Aziraphale's throat with kisses is much, much more interesting than harmlessly terrorizing weird fringe fundamentalists.
He seizes Aziraphale's hips in his hands, holding them steady as he gently grinds his thigh between the angel's legs. ]
You know, that miracle may not have gotten you properly cleaned up. Might have to make sssee for myself. Make sure.
[ The flicker of Crowley's tongue against Aziraphale's collarbone should make it very clear just what he's scheming. He certainly wasn't joking when he said he could happily spend an eternity with his head between Aziraphale's thighs. ]
[Thankfully Crowley does not have the wherewithal to remark aloud about Shadwell's nipple obsession. The less Aziraphale has to think about that daft little man, the better. What Madame Tracy sees in him, he has absolutely no idea.
Aziraphale's skin blossoms pink wherever Crowley presses his sweet, hungry mouth. He finally abandons Crowley's nipples to clutch at his upper arms, whimpering softly as Crowley grinds into him. The demon's hands on his hips prevent him from grinding back, and the build up of tension out of his control is absolutely delicious.]
If -- oh -- if you insist...
[He knows exactly what Crowley is insinuating, and in that moment can think of nothing that he'd want more. He even pushes on Crowley's shoulders a little, eager for him to get going.]
[ Crowley hums, feeling the heat of Aziraphale's want. Angling his head, he nips playfully at his jawline before beginning the agonizingly slow descent down. Crowley makes sure Aziraphale feels every inch of his movement, pressing his body firmly against the angel's erection. When Crowley's head is finally between his legs, he lavishes it with attention - licks and kisses all down the length of Aziraphale's shaft, a light sucking at his balls. The taste of him is incredible to Crowley's heightened senses - the heady scent of lust with just that hint of divinity that makes his nerves tingle. ...And then, Crowley moves on, ever lower. ]
C'mon angel, be a love and get your legs over my shoulders.
[ He lightly pats Aziraphale's thigh to emphasize his point. He wants to really get his tongue as deep as he can, feel Aziraphale writhing against his face, sense the sweet vibrations of his moans. Greedy thing that he is, Crowley wants to taste every delectable inch of him, kiss every crease and crevice. He wants Aziraphale sated, happy, and loved. ]
Edited (dkfalkflk idk how this got cut off ) Date: 2020-06-23 01:47 am (UTC)
[The slow, meticulous path that Crowley takes down Aziraphale's body turns the angel into a flushed, disheveled mess. He keeps his grip on Crowley's shoulders, then up into his hair, holding on for dear life as Crowley seems determined to utterly undo him. Oh, the anticipation is marvelous. Any doubts or worries are miles away; he knows that Crowley will take care of him. He's in good hands.
(And mouth. Oh Lord, that mouth...)
It turns out, that thigh pat is necessary, because Aziraphale is slightly past verbal instruction, lost in his own pleasure. With a soft groan, he raises one leg at a time, resting them securely on Crowley's shoulders. His hands remain in Crowley's hair, petting the soft strands restlessly as he keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to be overwhelmed by the sight of Crowley between his legs, mouth lower than it's ever been.]
[ Crowley murmurs something unintelligible but clearly adoring into the pillowy warmth of Aziraphale's thighs, his lips and teeth sucking and nipping little marks into the skin. And then, with great care, he raises Aziraphale's hips just enough that it's easy for him to get his tongue between his cheeks. And oh, he does, teasing the pink pucker with the forked tip of his tongue without an ounce of mercy. Crowley buries his face deeper into the soft skin, hair tickling the underside of Aziraphale's cock as his head moves with his relentless teasing, the demon making muffled noises of obvious delight. ]
[As soon as Crowley's tongue makes contact with Aziraphale's muscled rim, the angel lets out an involuntary whine, followed quickly by a peal of laughter. His hands leave Crowley's hair, clutching dramatically at the sheets instead while he tries his best not to squirm under the onslaught.]
Oh! Oh, Crowley, your tongue --
[It's not quite a tickle, but it's not the firm pressure of Crowley's fingers or cock, either. Crowley's tongue is even more slick and dexterous, not to mention the noises that the demon is making, like he's devouring the world's greatest dessert, and the feel of Crowley's face pressed against his cheeks. It makes his head swim and his erection throb, but he keeps his fingers tangled in the sheets, wanting to prolong the experience, even if he can't seem to stop giggling over it.]
[ Aziraphale's laughter fills Crowley with an indescribable warmth that has, admittedly, something to do with how aroused he is, but also quite a bit to do with just how freely the angel is laughing. Mirth wasn't exactly rare between them, but like so many other things, it had to be subdued, muted, restrained, quiet. Any time Aziraphale breaks through his years of conditioning Crowley savours.
Crowley gives Aziraphale's thigh an encouraging squeeze as he presses on, just to let the angel know he can laugh and writhe and wiggle to his heart's content. He's got this. Even an involuntary knee to the side of his skull isn't going to put him off his 'meal' and so, with just a slight shift of his corporation's biology, Crowley can get ever deeper, tonguing at Aziraphale's sensitive insides with abandon. ]
[Aziraphale gives a whine of understanding when he feels Crowley squeeze his thigh, knowing that he's free to express himself as he desires. And what a wonderful, liberating feeling that is, nearly as intoxicating as the sensation of Crowley's tongue sliding over his most sensitive spots. All the same, he'd rather not accidentally bonk or kick Crowley, so he hooks his ankles firmly at the small of Crowley's back to keep them from flailing around, even as he writhes into the sheets, his laughter interspersed with high-pitched moans.
As Crowley's tongue goes even deeper, one of his hands reaches out desperately towards Crowley, needing a hand to ground him. He's so hard and aching, and for once in all his years of making an Effort, he's tempted to touch himself, but part of him would like to see just how far Crowley can take him on his tongue alone.]
[ Crowley's tongue is relentless in it's exploration - at least until Aziraphale pleads for Crowley. He slides it out so he can press reassuring kisses into the soft inside of Aziraphale's thigh. ]
M'here, angel - tell me how you need me; anything you want at all, I'm yours.
[ He kisses up Aziraphale's thigh into the juncture between his groin and legs, and then nuzzles up against the angel's straining erection. ]
[Soft whimpers escape Aziraphale, a paradoxical mixture of disappointment and relief, and he struggles to find words, his hand still grasping blindly for Crowley's.]
I -- it --
[It's not simply the novelty of this particular sexual act that has him needing the reassurance. It's that he's so close to climax without having done anything. Is he allowed this? He must be, Crowley is telling him so. More than that, Crowley is giving him the space to ask for what he wants.]
I love you so much, Crowley. Please, don't stop using your tongue. However you like, wherever you like.
[ Crowley feels a touch lightheaded when Aziraphale tells him he loves him in just that tone of voice. His heart is soaring and for the first time in far, far too long, he truly starts to feel loved.
There is the light brush of fingers against his hair and realizes Aziraphale is reaching for him. Adjusting the position of the angel's legs, he fumbles for and clasps the grasping hand, interlacing their fingers. Whatever reassurance Aziraphale needs, Crowley wants him to know it's okay; it's okay to not want something or, as the case may be, to want. Aziraphale isn't selfish or a bad angel for it.
Squeezing his hand, Crowley flashes a grin up at Aziraphale. Wherever he likes, hm? ]
Oh, angel - that is a very long list.
[ As if there were a single centimetre of Aziraphale Crowley wasn't very much inclined to get his mouth on - and he emphasizes that by pressing soft kisses down the length of Aziraphale's shaft, occasionally flicking his tongue out to tease. ]
You're so hard right now - tell me, love; do you need a little extra push?
[The way Aziraphale speaks those words, naked and trembling with want, leaves no room for doubt. Crowley is so very much loved, from soles of his feet to the wispy tips of his hair that pass through Aziraphale's fingers before finally, finally, Crowley's hand is in his. He holds on tight, managing to meet Crowley's gaze rather than stare blindly at the ceiling, although the sight of Crowley tenderly kissing along his shaft has him groaning and letting his head fall back onto the pillows once more.]
I have a feeling you're -- ohhh -- up to the challenge --
[He's hanging by a thread now, and part of him wonders just how long he could stay balanced on that precipice, but Crowley, oh, Crowley, how he makes the angel feel so warm and safe and loved. He can't wait another moment.]
[ Crowley makes a small noise of reassurance when Aziraphale repeats himself. ]
Oh, angel, you have me. You've always had me.
[ Crowley is, indeed, up to every challenge Aziraphale may see fit to deliver. Especially any so sweet as this.
As his mouth slides down the length of Aziraphale's cock, he guides their entwined hands to the angel's shaft. He adjusts the position of their hands so Aziraphale's cock is sandwiched between their palms, Crowley's thumb rubbing over the angel's knuckles encouragingly.
His mouth moves ever lower until he's back to where he was, dexterous tongue slithering back in, just as relentless as it had been. ]
[Hopefully, with a little time and practice, Aziraphale will learn what he likes in the bedroom and how to ask for it explicitly. Not that he needs to now; Crowley seems to be able to read his desires, settling their joined hands around his cock as his sinfully sweet mouth returns to stimulate all the tender spots within him. But Crowley's reassurance edges him closer to believing that he's allowed to have this and not be selfish or demanding.
His hand trembles in Crowley's, even as he drags their hands up and down his shaft. It barely takes a few strokes before he's coming with a sob, as if his corporation is discovering pleasure for the first time. He gasps and squirms against Crowley's face, muscles clenching and releasing around his tongue.]
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I may not need to thwart your wiles any longer, but old habits die hard, my dear.
[His amusement continues when Crowley treats him like a pillow that he needs to more effectively cuddle up against. He readjusts his arms around the demon in turn, maximizing their comfort.]
Duly noted. If you come across any endearing animal photos in the midst of one of your twitter wars, please send them my way. You know I like those.
[It's about all the internet is good for, is the conclusion he's come to.]
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You know, I'm really not sure if I should take you 'thwarting my wiles' as the innuendo it always sounded like...
[ Crowley has always suspected Aziraphale would be warm and comfortable to cuddle up to, but he never dreamed the reality would so thoroughly trump the fantasy. It's hard to find an angle he likes best. ]
'Get thee behind me foul fiend'? As if you'd ever have to ask.
[ He doesn't squeeze Aziraphale's bum, but the palm of his hand ghosts over the swell of his buttocks so the angel gets the picture. ]
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I do beg your pardon.
[His mildly incredulous expression -- what innuendo? -- is replaced with a blush and involuntary wiggle against Crowley's hand.]
That phrasing does sound rather like a double entendre in light of recent events, doesn't it? Perhaps that Freud fellow was onto something, after all.
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Might've been. The whole weird fixation on parents seemed a bit off though. Methinks Dr. Freud might've been projecting a little. ...Or a lot, actually.
[ He mouths over Aziraphale's throat, licking into that dip in his collarbone. Crowley really cannot seem to get enough of him. ]
Might've had a few slips myself, every now and then.
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Freud fixated on a lot of things, dear...
[He moans softly at the way Crowley mouths at him, hooking his leg over the demon's to draw them closer together.]
Is that so? I always assumed that was simply part of your charm... silver-tongued devil and whatnot...
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[ Crowley gives a reflexive chuckle at Aziraphale's touch. It tickles, but in a pleasant way, like nestling into warm silk sheets. And while one hand remains firmly planted on the angel's bum (he may or may not have stolen a few appreciative glances over the centuries), the other glides over the thigh hooked around his hips. ]
Better make sure you keep this silver tongue occupied then. There's no telling what mischief it's liable to get up to.
[ He flicks his tongue, the split tip tickling the underside of Aziraphale's chin while Crowley looks terribly pleased with himself. ]
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Then Crowley tickles his chin and draws another giggle out of the angel. One hand settles at the small of his back, the other teasing over a nipple in the space between them.]
Mmm, I'm sure that you can find mischief no matter how well occupied your tongue is, but if you insist...
[He captures Crowley's mouth in a kiss, and though his tongue is not nearly so special as a serpent's, he manages to keep Crowley's busy without any trouble.]
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Angel -
[ He's breathless, already flushed and panting, aching for Aziraphale's touch. There aren't words for how good it feels, like little jolts of electricity down his spine, going right to his groin.
His fervour redoubles, kisses growing hungry and his idle groping becomes more deliberate. ]
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He patiently circles the nipple with his index and middle fingers, then gently pinches it before Crowley becomes complacent to the sensation. The whine that results is matched with a chuckle that's only partly muffled by their kisses.]
Yes, darling? Something -- mmmph -- I can do for you?
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Aziraphale, his soft angel, but also strong and resilient and so very brave; Crowley love him more with every moment.
The attention to his nipple has him arching and writhing in pleasure. It's like Aziraphale knows just how to render Crowley a mass of emotions with pinpoint precision.
Unable to articulate much else aside from the breathless utterings of the angel's name and several nonsensical endearments, Crowley rolls Aziraphale onto his back, one narrow thigh pressed firmly between his legs as he kisses him hungrily. ]
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When Crowley answers his question with nonsense, Aziraphale can't help but smile, pleased with how he's rendered the demon inarticulate. He'd tease him about that supposed silver tongue, but then Crowley finds his own way to respond, rather effectively in fact, as the angel now has a thigh pressing up against his cock, already hard from their latest bout of kissing and innuendo.
He returns each kiss just as fervently, hands still exploring Crowley's chest, pinching gently at the other nipple.]
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He might even have concocted a scheme to potentially insinuate he was, in fact, tri or even quad nipples if he ever found himself unfortunate enough to be in the man's presence again.
Fortunately, smothering Aziraphale's throat with kisses is much, much more interesting than harmlessly terrorizing weird fringe fundamentalists.
He seizes Aziraphale's hips in his hands, holding them steady as he gently grinds his thigh between the angel's legs. ]
You know, that miracle may not have gotten you properly cleaned up. Might have to make sssee for myself. Make sure.
[ The flicker of Crowley's tongue against Aziraphale's collarbone should make it very clear just what he's scheming. He certainly wasn't joking when he said he could happily spend an eternity with his head between Aziraphale's thighs. ]
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Aziraphale's skin blossoms pink wherever Crowley presses his sweet, hungry mouth. He finally abandons Crowley's nipples to clutch at his upper arms, whimpering softly as Crowley grinds into him. The demon's hands on his hips prevent him from grinding back, and the build up of tension out of his control is absolutely delicious.]
If -- oh -- if you insist...
[He knows exactly what Crowley is insinuating, and in that moment can think of nothing that he'd want more. He even pushes on Crowley's shoulders a little, eager for him to get going.]
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C'mon angel, be a love and get your legs over my shoulders.
[ He lightly pats Aziraphale's thigh to emphasize his point. He wants to really get his tongue as deep as he can, feel Aziraphale writhing against his face, sense the sweet vibrations of his moans. Greedy thing that he is, Crowley wants to taste every delectable inch of him, kiss every crease and crevice. He wants Aziraphale sated, happy, and loved. ]
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(And mouth. Oh Lord, that mouth...)
It turns out, that thigh pat is necessary, because Aziraphale is slightly past verbal instruction, lost in his own pleasure. With a soft groan, he raises one leg at a time, resting them securely on Crowley's shoulders. His hands remain in Crowley's hair, petting the soft strands restlessly as he keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to be overwhelmed by the sight of Crowley between his legs, mouth lower than it's ever been.]
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Oh! Oh, Crowley, your tongue --
[It's not quite a tickle, but it's not the firm pressure of Crowley's fingers or cock, either. Crowley's tongue is even more slick and dexterous, not to mention the noises that the demon is making, like he's devouring the world's greatest dessert, and the feel of Crowley's face pressed against his cheeks. It makes his head swim and his erection throb, but he keeps his fingers tangled in the sheets, wanting to prolong the experience, even if he can't seem to stop giggling over it.]
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Crowley gives Aziraphale's thigh an encouraging squeeze as he presses on, just to let the angel know he can laugh and writhe and wiggle to his heart's content. He's got this. Even an involuntary knee to the side of his skull isn't going to put him off his 'meal' and so, with just a slight shift of his corporation's biology, Crowley can get ever deeper, tonguing at Aziraphale's sensitive insides with abandon. ]
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As Crowley's tongue goes even deeper, one of his hands reaches out desperately towards Crowley, needing a hand to ground him. He's so hard and aching, and for once in all his years of making an Effort, he's tempted to touch himself, but part of him would like to see just how far Crowley can take him on his tongue alone.]
My dear -- my dearest, please -- I need you --
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M'here, angel - tell me how you need me; anything you want at all, I'm yours.
[ He kisses up Aziraphale's thigh into the juncture between his groin and legs, and then nuzzles up against the angel's straining erection. ]
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I -- it --
[It's not simply the novelty of this particular sexual act that has him needing the reassurance. It's that he's so close to climax without having done anything. Is he allowed this? He must be, Crowley is telling him so. More than that, Crowley is giving him the space to ask for what he wants.]
I love you so much, Crowley. Please, don't stop using your tongue. However you like, wherever you like.
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There is the light brush of fingers against his hair and realizes Aziraphale is reaching for him. Adjusting the position of the angel's legs, he fumbles for and clasps the grasping hand, interlacing their fingers. Whatever reassurance Aziraphale needs, Crowley wants him to know it's okay; it's okay to not want something or, as the case may be, to want. Aziraphale isn't selfish or a bad angel for it.
Squeezing his hand, Crowley flashes a grin up at Aziraphale. Wherever he likes, hm? ]
Oh, angel - that is a very long list.
[ As if there were a single centimetre of Aziraphale Crowley wasn't very much inclined to get his mouth on - and he emphasizes that by pressing soft kisses down the length of Aziraphale's shaft, occasionally flicking his tongue out to tease. ]
You're so hard right now - tell me, love; do you need a little extra push?
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I have a feeling you're -- ohhh -- up to the challenge --
[He's hanging by a thread now, and part of him wonders just how long he could stay balanced on that precipice, but Crowley, oh, Crowley, how he makes the angel feel so warm and safe and loved. He can't wait another moment.]
I need you, darling. Please.
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Oh, angel, you have me. You've always had me.
[ Crowley is, indeed, up to every challenge Aziraphale may see fit to deliver. Especially any so sweet as this.
As his mouth slides down the length of Aziraphale's cock, he guides their entwined hands to the angel's shaft. He adjusts the position of their hands so Aziraphale's cock is sandwiched between their palms, Crowley's thumb rubbing over the angel's knuckles encouragingly.
His mouth moves ever lower until he's back to where he was, dexterous tongue slithering back in, just as relentless as it had been. ]
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His hand trembles in Crowley's, even as he drags their hands up and down his shaft. It barely takes a few strokes before he's coming with a sob, as if his corporation is discovering pleasure for the first time. He gasps and squirms against Crowley's face, muscles clenching and releasing around his tongue.]
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