Aziraphale really is a marvel, and Crowley can't quite wrap his head around how well-suited they are to each other. A pair of outcasts, a couple of hopeless romantics, thrown together by unusual circumstances.
He stays awestruck like that for a long moment, and then, so overcome with emotion that his usual wit fails to supply him with any quips, he pulls Aziraphale into a tight embrace and a deep, hungry kiss.
Only when he briefly pulls away can he find words again. ]
Never have to worry about that last bit again. We can kiss, any time you like.
[Imagine that, an attempt at talking dirty can bring about such a look of adoration. Aziraphale should really try doing it more often.
The kiss stirs up both his love and his desire, and by the time Crowley pulls away, he's quite dizzy with both. He gives him a beatific smile, a hand winding into his russet hair.]
Then there's no point in looking through a book, darling. I have everything I need right here.
[He rests his other hand on his own abdomen, tapping his fingers there absently.]
So, what do you think? Should I give pleasuring myself a go? Or do I need that demonstration first?
[ Crowley gives a cheeky grin as he feels the rush of lust through Aziraphale, and his hand wanders to stroke little patterns along his hip and thigh, before coming to rest on the hand over Aziraphale's abdomen. Just a little temptation as Crowley repositions himself to kiss a trail up and down the angel's neck. ]
I think. I think. If it's something that you'd be interested in trying, I am, as they say, here for it.
[ Sucking a slow, tender kiss into the soft dip of Aziraphale's shoulder, Crowley finally leans back, propping himself up on his elbow so he can study Aziraphale - a pastime he's never tired of in all of 6000 years, and now he doesn't even have to hide his adoration behind a pair of shades. ]
I don't think there's any order we have to do things in, 'specially if you're raring to go.
[Aziraphale considers the question. Is he raring to go? Crowley's kisses and wandering touch have certainly helped, as does the fact that Crowley is, as he said, here for it. Quite literally, lying next to him, wearing nothing but an encouraging smile.]
Well... all right. Feel free to join in whenever you like.
[He slides his hand out from under Crowley's and tentatively grasps his own Effort, which is already fully erect. It's pleasant -- not quite the same jolt of arousal as when Crowley touched him, but he can see the appeal. He slides his hand up and down, a look of concentration on his face as he experiments with the pressure of his grip.]
Oh... that's rather nice. It's better when it's you, but...
[He swipes the tip with his thumb and gasps softly, not expecting it to be so sensitive to his own touch.]
[ Crowley has that dazed sort of look again as his eyes rake over Aziraphale, love and desire roiling inside of him. Taking Aziraphales free hand, he presses kisses into his palm, his lips trailing up the pads of the angel's soft fingers. ]
I know I sound like a broken record, but you really are a marvel.
[ Crowley snaps his fingers and the lights dim, replaced by the soft orange glow of scented candles hovering around the bed. And they are quite buried in satin-soft rose petals.
Crowley coughs out a few and frowns. He waves away the flowery heap until to a more sufficiently romantic amount. ]
Might've gone a bit overboard there - sorry about that.
[Aziraphale laughs softly, although he isn't immune to the praise. His cheeks turn rosy pink, his eyes watching Crowley with a similar look of love and desire.
Then the rose petals descend like a rainstorm.]
Crowley...
[He brushes a few out of his hair, looking more amused than annoyed. Aside from the excess, it really is a nice touch.]
I should hope you don't need to drown yourself in rose petals every time you pleasure yourself, dear.
[He resumes stroking himself, his breath catching, no less aroused from the brief interruption. Crowley looks so fetching in the candlelight, he keeps looking at him while he touches himself, clearly enjoying the experience.]
[ 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. ]
[That laugh-that-quite-isn't-one tells Aziraphale a lot, and he turns his head, kissing Crowley's shoulder.]
It's lovely, dear. Truly. Thank you.
[Crowley is doing his best to make Aziraphale comfortable, and the angel appreciates it deeply. Any chance of becoming self-conscious evaporates in the heated look Crowley gives him, and he lets out a soft whine when he feels that clever tongue curl around his finger. It reminds him of Crowley's mouth upon his cock, the very first thing Crowley did to bring him to orgasm, that same burning adoration in the demon's yellow eyes.
He miracles a bit of slick onto his hand and quickens his strokes, hips arching a little off the mattress. Suddenly he's quite close, all thanks to recent memories colliding with the here-and-now of Crowley's touch.]
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no subject
Aziraphale really is a marvel, and Crowley can't quite wrap his head around how well-suited they are to each other. A pair of outcasts, a couple of hopeless romantics, thrown together by unusual circumstances.
He stays awestruck like that for a long moment, and then, so overcome with emotion that his usual wit fails to supply him with any quips, he pulls Aziraphale into a tight embrace and a deep, hungry kiss.
Only when he briefly pulls away can he find words again. ]
Never have to worry about that last bit again. We can kiss, any time you like.
no subject
The kiss stirs up both his love and his desire, and by the time Crowley pulls away, he's quite dizzy with both. He gives him a beatific smile, a hand winding into his russet hair.]
Then there's no point in looking through a book, darling. I have everything I need right here.
[He rests his other hand on his own abdomen, tapping his fingers there absently.]
So, what do you think? Should I give pleasuring myself a go? Or do I need that demonstration first?
no subject
I think. I think. If it's something that you'd be interested in trying, I am, as they say, here for it.
[ Sucking a slow, tender kiss into the soft dip of Aziraphale's shoulder, Crowley finally leans back, propping himself up on his elbow so he can study Aziraphale - a pastime he's never tired of in all of 6000 years, and now he doesn't even have to hide his adoration behind a pair of shades. ]
I don't think there's any order we have to do things in, 'specially if you're raring to go.
no subject
Well... all right. Feel free to join in whenever you like.
[He slides his hand out from under Crowley's and tentatively grasps his own Effort, which is already fully erect. It's pleasant -- not quite the same jolt of arousal as when Crowley touched him, but he can see the appeal. He slides his hand up and down, a look of concentration on his face as he experiments with the pressure of his grip.]
Oh... that's rather nice. It's better when it's you, but...
[He swipes the tip with his thumb and gasps softly, not expecting it to be so sensitive to his own touch.]
How remarkable...
no subject
[ Crowley has that dazed sort of look again as his eyes rake over Aziraphale, love and desire roiling inside of him. Taking Aziraphales free hand, he presses kisses into his palm, his lips trailing up the pads of the angel's soft fingers. ]
I know I sound like a broken record, but you really are a marvel.
[ Crowley snaps his fingers and the lights dim, replaced by the soft orange glow of scented candles hovering around the bed. And they are quite buried in satin-soft rose petals.
Crowley coughs out a few and frowns. He waves away the flowery heap until to a more sufficiently romantic amount. ]
Might've gone a bit overboard there - sorry about that.
no subject
Then the rose petals descend like a rainstorm.]
Crowley...
[He brushes a few out of his hair, looking more amused than annoyed. Aside from the excess, it really is a nice touch.]
I should hope you don't need to drown yourself in rose petals every time you pleasure yourself, dear.
[He resumes stroking himself, his breath catching, no less aroused from the brief interruption. Crowley looks so fetching in the candlelight, he keeps looking at him while he touches himself, clearly enjoying the experience.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
It's lovely, dear. Truly. Thank you.
[Crowley is doing his best to make Aziraphale comfortable, and the angel appreciates it deeply. Any chance of becoming self-conscious evaporates in the heated look Crowley gives him, and he lets out a soft whine when he feels that clever tongue curl around his finger. It reminds him of Crowley's mouth upon his cock, the very first thing Crowley did to bring him to orgasm, that same burning adoration in the demon's yellow eyes.
He miracles a bit of slick onto his hand and quickens his strokes, hips arching a little off the mattress. Suddenly he's quite close, all thanks to recent memories colliding with the here-and-now of Crowley's touch.]