[Aziraphale has never forgotten that brief moment in the former Satanic nunnery. It was the closest that they'd ever gotten, physically, close enough that Aziraphale could feel the heat of Crowley's body all along his and count every freckle on his snarling, gorgeous face. He had assumed that his attraction at the time was not only inappropriate for the occasion, but in general, as well.
It's only as he's being pinned into the cushy mattress with a wickedly grinning Crowley that he's starting to think otherwise.
He returns the kiss eagerly, relaxing into this new and very much wanted state of being, having Crowley lie atop him with very few clothes in between.]
I was wondering where you were intending to go with your tirade about not being nice. [A glint appears in his own eyes and he adds:] Of course, if you truly had me pinned, I wouldn't be able to do this.
[His hands slide down to Crowley's rear and squeeze playfully.]
[ He may have explained that, at the time, he'd been so close to just grabbing Aziraphale and running scared to the furthest reaches of the universe, that the only reason he hadn't taken off was because Aziraphale still had hope.
Instead, Crowley makes a sound deep in his throat, both arching his back and trying his damnedest to push whatever passes for a rear on him right into Aziraphale's hands.
It's a conversation for another day. Right now, Crowley wants to show Aziraphale how much he loves him. ]
...Been wanting to do that a while, eh?
[ Crowley's attempt at smooth composure is rather ruined by how breathless he sounds. ]
Bet there's loads you've been wanting, yeah? ...Well, we can now. Anything. Every single thing.
[ Panting, he grinds their erections together once again. It had felt wonderful standing, but now, in this position, it felt beyond marvelous. ]
Far longer than I was willing to admit to myself, my darling.
[And whatever he had allowed himself to imagine, it pales in comparison to the real thing.. Whatever passes for Crowley's rear, Aziraphale loves the feel of it, the way Crowley groans and pushes it back into his hands. He gives it another squeeze, because he can, and smiles at Crowley's breathless response.
Then Crowley grinds against him, and all his thoughts leave him in a rush of ecstatic sparks. He groans and grinds back instinctively, his corporation knowing what to do even if his mind is caught up in a state of relentless bliss.]
Oh! Oh, my -- my dear b-boy --
[He pushes a bit with his hands, not so much to cop another feel as to slow things down a notch, enough to get used to the sensation and savor it properly.]
[ Crowley cannot believe how sensitive he feels. His skin feels like it's tingling all over, the peculiar sensation expanding out from his stomach. It's not even like he's never done this before, but things just feel so much more with Aziraphale. ]
Y-yeah - m'feeling it too.
[ Crowley forces himself to relax the pace, but his hips still rock involuntarily up against Aziraphale's. ]
[Aziraphale has never done anything like this before, he's only had his books for knowledge, and he's starting to wonder if the human language simply doesn't have words to describe the pure electric arousal of such an act, because this is simply nothing like what he's read.]
It's -- oh -- it's because it's you --
[That's the only conclusion he can come to. He's kissed humans in the past, on occasion, and it was barely a spark of what it's like kissing Crowley. And speaking of kissing, he seeks out Crowley's lips with his own, hands wandering up and down his back restlessly, as if trying to disperse that white-hot energy between them.]
[ Crowley gave a stuttering, breathless laugh, kissing Aziraphale messily. He knew there was nothing else that could ever compare to this. Aziraphale's hands alone, rubbing up and down his spine, are lightyears more fulfilling than every encounter he's ever had. ]
It's incredible that I can do this with you - that we can have this.
[ As if to emphasize his point, he runs his hands down Aziraphale's torso and cups his soft chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. ]
It's you as well - no one else could ever feel this right.
[Aziraphale gasps sharply, surprised at how sensitive that touch to his nipples is. Such a funny thing for his corporation to have, completely unnecessary, and yet when Crowley rubs them, it goes straight to the very core of him.
At a loss for words, he slides a hand into Crowley's hair and tugs him down for another kiss. He lingers on this one, chasing the pleasure it brings.]
[ Crowley echoes it so softly, so reverently it may as well have been a prayer. He kisses Aziraphale more fervently this time, the hand in his hair spurring him on. He makes a mental note to grow it out, really give Aziraphale something to grab onto next time.
Thumbing the nipple to firmness, Crowley debates the merits of getting their pants off - though there's no way to do that without parting and oh, he has no desire to do that at all. So with a snap of his fingers, he banishes every remaining stitch between them to... well, hopefully somewhere in the flat. His mind is a bit occupied at the moment, but some distant part of him would rather their underthings don't wind up with some stranger. ]
I want you every way you want be together. Every single one. As long as it's you.
[ Crowley breathes, only briefly parting from Aziraphale's lips to answer him, before returning in for another kiss, relishing the full-body skin-to-skin contact. If 'heavenly' actually meant what the humans thought it did, Crowley might have described it as such. As it is, he feels like he's coming up short on words (though Beethoven's 9th might be a somewhat adequate summation of the feelings coursing through him). ]
[The soft, reverent way Crowley repeats that term of endearment affects the angel as much as those clever hands and grinding hips. He loses himself in the kiss that follows, although there is a squeak of acknowledgement when Crowley snaps away the rest of their clothing -- hopefully to somewhere close by. Those pants have his signature on them!
Of course, that's not a thought that lasts, not when Crowley's bare skin is pressed so deliciously against his. He squirms beneath his demon, his moans only partially muffled by their kissing, his hand tugging lightly at Crowley's hair.]
I -- oh, Heavens -- I'm rather fond of the idea of all those places you'd like to kiss me...
[ Crowley grins like the devil just got into him, which, fair enough. ]
Oh, there's all sorts of interesting places I'd like to get my mouth on you. Like here -
[ He catches Aziraphale's wrist, and kiss along the soft skin of his arm. ]
- or here -
[ Crowley slithers down the length of Aziraphale, his chest pressed up against the angel's erection and then clamps his teeth down on the soft flesh of his hip, lathing his tongue over the rapidly fading tooth marks. ]
- or perhaps here...?
[ He puts that clever tongue and those lips to work along the inside of Aziraphale's thigh, leaving a trail of love bites to his knee. ]
[Aziraphale watches, flushed and giddy, as Crowley makes a catalogue of his body via his mouth. Each kiss is a scorching reminder of the demon's love, and he can't help but whimper and whine at the variety. Those love bites in particular have him panting and gripping Crowley's hair in approval. He'll most definitely not miracle them away.]
All good choices so far. [He chuckles breathlessly.] Best to keep sampling so I can know for sure.
[ Crowley wonders if there's a bad choice - every inch of Aziraphale is delectable. He puts his mouth to work on the other thigh now, working his way up. He sways, serpentine as ever, as his gaze falls on Aziraphale's cock. It is, in Crowley's limited personal experience with such things, quite nice looking. Handsome, even. (Could you call a cock handsome? Crowley supposed there was a first for everything.) ]
Standing up so proud and proper - can hardly resist this delicacy.
[ He noses up against against it, letting his own scent mix with the heady musk of Aziraphale's arousal. He tickles the tip of his forked tongue at the base before dragging it up along Aziraphale's length. ]
[Aziraphale's cock twitches, as if flattered by the compliment. The scene before him is so intensely erotic -- Crowley staring at him like a feast, his gorgeous face flanked by the angel's marked-up thighs -- that when Crowley finally puts his tongue to work, Aziraphale has to shut his eyes, lest his arousal crest and push him over the edge too soon.]
Oh... oh, my stars. Crowley, your tongue, you -- !
[It's not much of a compliment in return, but the way he writhes underneath Crowley must easily let the demon know how much he enjoys it.]
[ Crowley might argue that the highest compliment ever would be those sounds Aziraphale makes, the way just raking his tongue over him got the angel writhing. There is no higher honour, he thinks, than being responsible for that flush in Aziraphale's cheeks. He licks over the crown, deepening the fork in his tongue so that it wraps around to the point where the two tips can almost touch.
He eases up on his teasing, pressing little kisses all down the underside as he strokes the inside of Aziraphale's thigh. ]
I can take you all the way in. Dying to, really - you taste incredible.
[ And to emphasize his point, he nuzzles into the crook between Aziraphale's groin and his thigh, breathing deeply. ]
[Aziraphale has nothing to compare it to, but surely this is the most glorious way to be rendered insensate. It is a good long moment before he can even comprehend Crowley's words, and it takes at least another to force himself to open his eyes and ease the sensations roiling through him enough to answer.]
I... I never...
[Crowley makes it so very damn hard, kissing him so softly and breathing him in. How can he decide what he wants when he wants everything? He runs his fingers through Crowley's hair, shaking a little, eyes filled with nothing but love and trust.]
Please, I -- I want this, I want so much, please don't stop.
[ Crowley stares up at Aziraphale in awe, feeling like his heart had just shattered and repaired itself a million times in a few seconds.
Once upon a time, God had spun him from the ether, made him manifest and poured Love into him. At the time he thought he'd know no greater ecstasy, only to be proven wrong when he met Aziraphale.
He thought he loved Aziraphale. For six millennia up until now, he was sure that's what it was. Now he's realizing that was absolutely nothing more than slight infatuation compared to how he feels now, in this moment, when Aziraphale looks at him like that, with his perfect manicured fingers carding through his hair. It was like comparing fireworks to a red giant - and Crowley knowS the difference very well. He's had a hand in both.
If I'm made for anything, he thinks to himself, let it be this. ]
Won't stop, angel. I promise. Anything you want from me, please, let me give it to you.
[ Here Crowley is, on his knees between Aziraphale's legs, praying to the angel. He'd give credit where it's due. Though glad he never met dear old Oscar, the tricky bastard had said it best; Love's a sacrament that should be taken kneeling.
He presses more reverent kisses to Aziraphale's cock until finally his lips rest on the very tip, part, and take him in one smooth motion. ]
[If Crowley is taking a sacrament, then Aziraphale's words are a benediction. All the love he has, his personal grace, he offers it to his beloved without condition or restriction. It pours from him like a river, shining in his eyes as he curves his hand to Crowley's cheek in a tender caress.
When Crowley takes him into his mouth, he cries out, eyes shutting and head falling back into the pillows. It is more intense than he ever could have imagined, because it's Crowley, Crowley, always Crowley. He brings his hand back into Crowley's hair, the other groping blindly for his shoulder, wanting to touch as much of him as he can.]
[ Always had me, Crowley thinks. Maybe not like this, but he had always Aziraphale's. He doesn't think there's much of anything that will change that going forward.
These are the last coherent thoughts Crowley has before being utterly overcome - Aziraphale's scent, his taste, the whole feel of him is everywhere. It's staggering, and yet he wants more. Needs more. He takes the hand on his shoulder in his own so that Aziraphale doesn't have to reach so far to touch him, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.
Crowley adjusts his jaw, the flat of his tongue flexing hard up against the underside of Aziraphale's cock, and then pulls upward, dragging the wet heat of his mouth over the length. And then, demon that he is, begins his torment in earnest, licking and sucking to vary the degrees of stimulus, occasionally pulling away to nip at his hipbone, or kiss his belly and thighs. ]
[Aziraphale threads his fingers with Crowley's and holds tight, needing that anchor as his corporation floods with pleasure, threatening to wash him away. The demon is both his tormentor and his salvation, alighting every nerve with his clever lips and tongue, only to pull off of him and leaving a desperate ache in his place. He tugs restlessly with his other hand, but does not try to direct Crowley, trusting that the demon will care for him as he always has.]
My darling, your mouth is a miracle... I'd be so lost without you...
[The stacks of books around him, he thinks heretically, are nothing but wasted paper, now that he knows what it's like to be with the one he loves.]
[ Crowley gazes up at him, certain the grin he's sporting makes him look rather dazed and dumb. ]
Could stay down here forever, angel. Take care of this any time you want - never tasted anything better.
[ As if for emphasis, he licks a bead of pre from the tip, before engulfing the entire length of Aziraphale's cock in his mouth once more. There's no more teasing, tortuous medley of sensations, but now the demon is sucking greedily in earnest, tongue stroking up and down the shaft. ]
[Aziraphale must look nearly as dazed, blinking at Crowley as if his words are coming from a great distance. All that registers is that pleased grin and so he smiles in return, so full of affection that he nearly glows from it.]
I love you.
[He says it again on the tail of whimper while he watches Crowley lick the tip of his cock, he says it again with a groan when Crowley swallows him down. He says it over and over, gasps it like a mantra, as Crowley brings him to the peak of ecstasy. When it nearly gets to be too much, he pulls at Crowley's hair with a little more intent, heels digging into the mattress as if bracing himself for his climax.]
[ Crowley's heart aches every time Aziraphale repeats his love, spurring him to more insistently propel the angel to his climax. His throat bobs as he takes him as deep as possible, the pressure of his mouth growing tighter, and he rubs Aziraphale's thighs encouragingly so that he doesn't have to pull away to let him know it's alright to let go.
Between that, and the firm grip on his hair makes it very hard for him not to press his hips into the duvet and take his pleasure on the blanket. Six thousand years of pining and watching the sheer eroticism of Aziraphale's dining indulgences, however, has left Crowley with a will of tempered steel and he keeps his hips firmly elevated. ]
[Aziraphale's entire universe shrinks to Crowley's mouth and the touch of his hands, before expanding suddenly in a metaphorical big bang of ecstasy. He cries out as he climaxes, as helpless as a saint caught up in divine rapture, his corporation merely a vessel for all the love he feels for Crowley, once locked up tight against prying eyes, now called out to the heavens.
He lays there in the aftermath, panting, his hand not tucked into Crowley's hair pulling gently but insistently on the demon's arm, urging him back up for a proper kiss.]
[ Crowley lingers despite the insistent tugging, just to make sure he'd got every last drop, before slithering his way back up to Aziraphale and leaving a trail of warm, sticky kisses in his wake. When he finally stretches out at Aziraphale's side, he reaches up to cradle his cheeks in his hands. ]
Look at you; utterly gorgeous.
[ And how can he resist kissing? After all, there's no place on Aziraphale he doesn't want to put his mouth, and he hungrily presses their lips together. ]
[There's a soft, pleased sound for every kiss that brings Crowley closer, close enough to look right into his eyes and smile blissfully. His cheeks flush at the compliment and he turns his head to press a kiss to one of Crowley's palms before his lips are captured in that kiss he'd been craving.]
Look who's talking, my dear.
[He places a hand on Crowley's shoulder and strokes him all along his side, down to his hip, his thumb rubbing that tantalizing crease between hip and groin.]
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It's only as he's being pinned into the cushy mattress with a wickedly grinning Crowley that he's starting to think otherwise.
He returns the kiss eagerly, relaxing into this new and very much wanted state of being, having Crowley lie atop him with very few clothes in between.]
I was wondering where you were intending to go with your tirade about not being nice. [A glint appears in his own eyes and he adds:] Of course, if you truly had me pinned, I wouldn't be able to do this.
[His hands slide down to Crowley's rear and squeeze playfully.]
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Instead, Crowley makes a sound deep in his throat, both arching his back and trying his damnedest to push whatever passes for a rear on him right into Aziraphale's hands.
It's a conversation for another day. Right now, Crowley wants to show Aziraphale how much he loves him. ]
...Been wanting to do that a while, eh?
[ Crowley's attempt at smooth composure is rather ruined by how breathless he sounds. ]
Bet there's loads you've been wanting, yeah? ...Well, we can now. Anything. Every single thing.
[ Panting, he grinds their erections together once again. It had felt wonderful standing, but now, in this position, it felt beyond marvelous. ]
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[And whatever he had allowed himself to imagine, it pales in comparison to the real thing.. Whatever passes for Crowley's rear, Aziraphale loves the feel of it, the way Crowley groans and pushes it back into his hands. He gives it another squeeze, because he can, and smiles at Crowley's breathless response.
Then Crowley grinds against him, and all his thoughts leave him in a rush of ecstatic sparks. He groans and grinds back instinctively, his corporation knowing what to do even if his mind is caught up in a state of relentless bliss.]
Oh! Oh, my -- my dear b-boy --
[He pushes a bit with his hands, not so much to cop another feel as to slow things down a notch, enough to get used to the sensation and savor it properly.]
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Y-yeah - m'feeling it too.
[ Crowley forces himself to relax the pace, but his hips still rock involuntarily up against Aziraphale's. ]
...How can just this feel so good?
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It's -- oh -- it's because it's you --
[That's the only conclusion he can come to. He's kissed humans in the past, on occasion, and it was barely a spark of what it's like kissing Crowley. And speaking of kissing, he seeks out Crowley's lips with his own, hands wandering up and down his back restlessly, as if trying to disperse that white-hot energy between them.]
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It's incredible that I can do this with you - that we can have this.
[ As if to emphasize his point, he runs his hands down Aziraphale's torso and cups his soft chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. ]
It's you as well - no one else could ever feel this right.
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At a loss for words, he slides a hand into Crowley's hair and tugs him down for another kiss. He lingers on this one, chasing the pleasure it brings.]
I'm all yours, dearest. However you want me.
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[ Crowley echoes it so softly, so reverently it may as well have been a prayer. He kisses Aziraphale more fervently this time, the hand in his hair spurring him on. He makes a mental note to grow it out, really give Aziraphale something to grab onto next time.
Thumbing the nipple to firmness, Crowley debates the merits of getting their pants off - though there's no way to do that without parting and oh, he has no desire to do that at all. So with a snap of his fingers, he banishes every remaining stitch between them to... well, hopefully somewhere in the flat. His mind is a bit occupied at the moment, but some distant part of him would rather their underthings don't wind up with some stranger. ]
I want you every way you want be together. Every single one. As long as it's you.
[ Crowley breathes, only briefly parting from Aziraphale's lips to answer him, before returning in for another kiss, relishing the full-body skin-to-skin contact. If 'heavenly' actually meant what the humans thought it did, Crowley might have described it as such. As it is, he feels like he's coming up short on words (though Beethoven's 9th might be a somewhat adequate summation of the feelings coursing through him). ]
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Of course, that's not a thought that lasts, not when Crowley's bare skin is pressed so deliciously against his. He squirms beneath his demon, his moans only partially muffled by their kissing, his hand tugging lightly at Crowley's hair.]
I -- oh, Heavens -- I'm rather fond of the idea of all those places you'd like to kiss me...
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Oh, there's all sorts of interesting places I'd like to get my mouth on you. Like here -
[ He catches Aziraphale's wrist, and kiss along the soft skin of his arm. ]
- or here -
[ Crowley slithers down the length of Aziraphale, his chest pressed up against the angel's erection and then clamps his teeth down on the soft flesh of his hip, lathing his tongue over the rapidly fading tooth marks. ]
- or perhaps here...?
[ He puts that clever tongue and those lips to work along the inside of Aziraphale's thigh, leaving a trail of love bites to his knee. ]
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All good choices so far. [He chuckles breathlessly.] Best to keep sampling so I can know for sure.
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Standing up so proud and proper - can hardly resist this delicacy.
[ He noses up against against it, letting his own scent mix with the heady musk of Aziraphale's arousal. He tickles the tip of his forked tongue at the base before dragging it up along Aziraphale's length. ]
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Oh... oh, my stars. Crowley, your tongue, you -- !
[It's not much of a compliment in return, but the way he writhes underneath Crowley must easily let the demon know how much he enjoys it.]
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He eases up on his teasing, pressing little kisses all down the underside as he strokes the inside of Aziraphale's thigh. ]
I can take you all the way in. Dying to, really - you taste incredible.
[ And to emphasize his point, he nuzzles into the crook between Aziraphale's groin and his thigh, breathing deeply. ]
...Unless you'd like to try something else...?
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I... I never...
[Crowley makes it so very damn hard, kissing him so softly and breathing him in. How can he decide what he wants when he wants everything? He runs his fingers through Crowley's hair, shaking a little, eyes filled with nothing but love and trust.]
Please, I -- I want this, I want so much, please don't stop.
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Once upon a time, God had spun him from the ether, made him manifest and poured Love into him. At the time he thought he'd know no greater ecstasy, only to be proven wrong when he met Aziraphale.
He thought he loved Aziraphale. For six millennia up until now, he was sure that's what it was. Now he's realizing that was absolutely nothing more than slight infatuation compared to how he feels now, in this moment, when Aziraphale looks at him like that, with his perfect manicured fingers carding through his hair. It was like comparing fireworks to a red giant - and Crowley knowS the difference very well. He's had a hand in both.
If I'm made for anything, he thinks to himself, let it be this. ]
Won't stop, angel. I promise. Anything you want from me, please, let me give it to you.
[ Here Crowley is, on his knees between Aziraphale's legs, praying to the angel. He'd give credit where it's due. Though glad he never met dear old Oscar, the tricky bastard had said it best; Love's a sacrament that should be taken kneeling.
He presses more reverent kisses to Aziraphale's cock until finally his lips rest on the very tip, part, and take him in one smooth motion. ]
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[If Crowley is taking a sacrament, then Aziraphale's words are a benediction. All the love he has, his personal grace, he offers it to his beloved without condition or restriction. It pours from him like a river, shining in his eyes as he curves his hand to Crowley's cheek in a tender caress.
When Crowley takes him into his mouth, he cries out, eyes shutting and head falling back into the pillows. It is more intense than he ever could have imagined, because it's Crowley, Crowley, always Crowley. He brings his hand back into Crowley's hair, the other groping blindly for his shoulder, wanting to touch as much of him as he can.]
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These are the last coherent thoughts Crowley has before being utterly overcome - Aziraphale's scent, his taste, the whole feel of him is everywhere. It's staggering, and yet he wants more. Needs more. He takes the hand on his shoulder in his own so that Aziraphale doesn't have to reach so far to touch him, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.
Crowley adjusts his jaw, the flat of his tongue flexing hard up against the underside of Aziraphale's cock, and then pulls upward, dragging the wet heat of his mouth over the length. And then, demon that he is, begins his torment in earnest, licking and sucking to vary the degrees of stimulus, occasionally pulling away to nip at his hipbone, or kiss his belly and thighs. ]
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My darling, your mouth is a miracle... I'd be so lost without you...
[The stacks of books around him, he thinks heretically, are nothing but wasted paper, now that he knows what it's like to be with the one he loves.]
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Could stay down here forever, angel. Take care of this any time you want - never tasted anything better.
[ As if for emphasis, he licks a bead of pre from the tip, before engulfing the entire length of Aziraphale's cock in his mouth once more. There's no more teasing, tortuous medley of sensations, but now the demon is sucking greedily in earnest, tongue stroking up and down the shaft. ]
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I love you.
[He says it again on the tail of whimper while he watches Crowley lick the tip of his cock, he says it again with a groan when Crowley swallows him down. He says it over and over, gasps it like a mantra, as Crowley brings him to the peak of ecstasy. When it nearly gets to be too much, he pulls at Crowley's hair with a little more intent, heels digging into the mattress as if bracing himself for his climax.]
Oh... my dear... I'm so close -- !
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Between that, and the firm grip on his hair makes it very hard for him not to press his hips into the duvet and take his pleasure on the blanket. Six thousand years of pining and watching the sheer eroticism of Aziraphale's dining indulgences, however, has left Crowley with a will of tempered steel and he keeps his hips firmly elevated. ]
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He lays there in the aftermath, panting, his hand not tucked into Crowley's hair pulling gently but insistently on the demon's arm, urging him back up for a proper kiss.]
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Look at you; utterly gorgeous.
[ And how can he resist kissing? After all, there's no place on Aziraphale he doesn't want to put his mouth, and he hungrily presses their lips together. ]
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Look who's talking, my dear.
[He places a hand on Crowley's shoulder and strokes him all along his side, down to his hip, his thumb rubbing that tantalizing crease between hip and groin.]
You're glorious.
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