goodtobebad | open post;

[ He has his arms around the demon, holding him gently, trying to not be too distracted by the kisses that he can't keep up the conversation. Manners and all.

He pets his his thumb against Crowley's back. ]

Yes...[ A bit too vague-sounding. ] Perhaps Nice.

Would you actually wear swim trunks?

[ Crowley glances up at Aziraphale with a smirk. ]

Show off that angelic physique?

[ He’s not mocking, he would in fact love that. ]

[ He goes to answer but falters with a quiet, slightly embarrassed huff.

It should be literally no one's surprised that he isn't great at keeping up with modern fashion these days. ]

That is the fashion, isn't it... [ He doesn't really seem very warmed up to the idea. But the demon's probably well aware where the angel will be fussy or not. ]

You can wear a shirt, it’s no big deal.

[ Though, Crowley’s fingers might be working a few buttons loose on the angel’s pajama shirt, so he can slide in and touch skin. ]

[ He feels that. Doesn't bring attention to it and how it flusters him, but he feels it.

He does picture himself in swimming trunks and a shirt and it makes him twist his nose.]

Well, I suppose it's only appropriate.

[ He idly rubs a hand on Crowley's arm. ]

We’ll get you one of those Hawaiian ones with big flowers on it.

[ Crowley honestly thinks that would be delectable, and leans up to kiss Aziraphale’s mouth again. ]

Oh- [ But his protest is interrupted, as Crowley now, apparently, has way too much power to simply shut him up when he starts kicking up a fuss or rambling.

It's Aziraphale's own fault for putting that arrow on his quiver, really. ]

[ Crowley hums happily into the kiss, hands still wandering a bit. If he’s being too forward, Aziraphale can tell him to stop. But he’s never let his hands go below the waist. Just skims them over the angel’s tummy, his sides. ]

You’d look fantastic in it.

[ Feeling his arms and soft touches do make the angel's insides flutter, but it looks like he hasn't quite gotten to the part of asking him to stop, yet. He knows Crowley would, immediately, should he ever ask.

He looks him in the eye, close as they are, half distracted, mighty flustered, and ever so slightly pouting.]

Oh, alright. [ He's not blushing. It's too dark to prove otherwise, anyway. Probably. ]

[ Crowley smiles, rests his chin on Aziraphale’s chest. ]

D’you enjoy this? What we’ve been doing?

[ Aziraphale looks down at him, curiously, then smiles tenderly, bringing up a hand to gently brush on Crowley's hair.]

Of course, my dear. How could I not?

Edited 2019-07-17 21:10 (UTC)

Well, I dunno. If you didn't, that would be okay.

[ He drops his eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the petting. ]

Just... let me know, I guess. If you want me to stop or do something else, or...

[ He absolutely takes that cue to gently dig his fingers through his hair. Might even take a moment to try and straighten it. He finds the way Crowley relaxes just too adorable not to. ]

I know, dear. [ The angel brings his hands down to cup the sides of his face, thumbs gently petting at his cheeks. Just smiling at him in complete and utter adoration.

Quietly,]

I trust you.

Well... that's good. I'd hope you trust me, after all this time.

[ That smile is just so... so gorgeous. It makes Crowley's heart skip a beat (not that it needs to beat in the first place). He'd like to bask in it for a while. ]

So you'll tell me if you want something? I mean, anything. Anything at all.

[ He idly tilts his head a moment, just looking at Crowley's eyes. Just appreciating their color, just loving having him here, close, with him, after everything they've been through. After all this time. After his own faults.

If patience is a virtue, Crowley's had it in spades, if only for the angel. And he feels the love pouring out of him - all he can hope is that Crowley can sense his.

He thinks, before he speaks again. ]

It's difficult to think of anything better than...this.

[ He almost feels silly over the way he says it, but the feeling is as genuine as it can be.

He considers it, then gently pulls at him, to bring the demon up until their faces are barely an inch from each other, brushing. He's never been quite as fast as Crowley, and he's unsure about any steps he should take these days, in about most aspects, but what he is sure about is that he wants to keep him close.

Not that he's ever had to try particularly hard to do so, he realizes.

Even quieter, still cupping the demon's face, in their bed, in their home, away from it all,]

All I need is you, my love.

[ Having all that love directed at him is nearly overwhelming. Crowley doesn't feel it the way the angel does, of course, but he doesn't need to, not when Aziraphale is looking at him like that.

This is all he wants, too. Just to be close - as close as possible, to crawl into his skin if he can. (They sort of did that, but this is more intimate, in a way.)

He turns his head slightly, so he can brush his lips over Aziraphale's palm. Sighs, all anxiety leaving him. ]

All right, but also, if you wanted me to feed you sushi in bed, I'd do that, too.

[ That catches him, and the angel almost laughs. But that would be impolite, so all he really does is sound surprised. He just chuckles it out. ]

What?

[ ...I mean. Well. He probably wouldn't oppose it. Which is to say he pictures it for a moment, but it feels so hedonistic, that he feels like maybe he should shake off the thought.

Doesn't mean they can't revisit that idea later. ]

What? I said anything you want!

[ That was just the most absurdly Aziraphale thing he could think of, so he tossed it out there.

Though, now that he's thinking about it, feeding the angel in bed does sound very nice. Though he might go for something a bit more traditional, like strawberries and whipped cream.

He kisses the tip of Aziraphale's nose. ]

I mean it. Though if you want me to recite poetry I'll need a bit of time - all I know are dirty limericks.

[ An idea to consider more purposely at a point, to be sure. Because, really, who's watching anymore? There's no list of Good Angel Behaviors he has to keep with anymore. Not that he ever did a particularly good job at following the pattern to begin with.

He twitches his nose for just a moment, just amused by the small, sweet kiss. He then spares himself a another moment to imagine Crowley reciting poetry to him, and he can feel his heart fluttering pleasantly. ]

Oh, I- I wouldn't oppose. [ Clearly. Just look at him. All a flutter by the idea of classic romantic wooing.

Though the dirty limericks would probably be good for a laugh and thinly veiled amusement from the angel as he would probably be rolling his eyes at Crowley.]

[ Oh, there we go. Aziraphale really is transparent. But all right. If that’s the sort of thing he wants, Crowley will happily provide it. He’ll give him flowers and chocolates and recite the sappiest love poetry he can find. ]

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body....

I can’t remember all the rest of it right now.

[ He's going to spoil the angel rotten that way. And it might be magnificent.

And, oh, he sure just launches into it. Aziraphale listens, takes a pause when he's done.

Then, calmly. ]

...i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss

[ An almost coy expression, another one of his soft smiles.

Crowley's definitely won points with that one. ]

[ Crowley would never admit to any particular affinity for poetry, but he’s heard a few over the centuries that struck him. This is one of them, and hearing Aziraphale recite it... it rather does things to his insides. ]

That one always makes me think of you.

[ He says that honestly, with no snark. Since the first time he read it? Heard it? He can’t quite remember which was first, but he’s always thought of Aziraphale and his lovely body. He leans down, kisses him again. And again. ]

[ That old thing? Why, most people would never think twice about it. He doesn't, he usually spares more thought of what he puts on it than anything.

He can feel his face flush, more than happy with a kiss to hide it. Or to feed it, really. A hand comes up to cup the back of Crowley's head, fingers brushing gently into his hair. The other one comes up to the side of his neck, thumb resting gently against his jaw.

Hard to think that, despite it all, there's still some very human experiences he hadn't quite left himself dive into. Not at length, anyway.

Hard to think at all in these moments, really. Far too much and too much better to focus on.]

[ Crowley, on the other hand, thinks about it rather a lot. Thinks about all the ways he might touch Aziraphale’s body, to give the angel pleasure. All the ways they could hold each other and fit together. It’s less about lust, often simply a desire to touch and be touched, hold and be held.

Like this, really.

He still can’t quite believe he’s even allowed to do this, even as he kisses the angel again, runs his hands down his sides, leans down to nuzzle at his neck. He shouldn’t be allowed, but he is. ]

[ So much they shouldn't be allowed to do. Aziraphale had ran away from far, far less. One could ask if he regrets it, but the circumstances were far too different, far too dire and dangerous to make any case of it now.

It doesn't matter anymore.

It's not that the thought isn't at the back of his head still. It's quite difficult to simply undo millennia of existence, but something grater has finally been able to push through and drown it out. It's been getting louder, too. And he's been letting it be.

He feels an immense urge to hold the demon, his companion, the apple of his eye, affectionately, protectively, and just not let go. Whether it is out of love or out of fear or even out of guilt is a discussion he'd rather never have, will probably never have, but the answer will always be that it's a combination of all three, but love wins in an overwhelming manner.

So, he holds him. He holds him and he kisses him, on his lips, on his face, in his hair, just letting himself fall into that feeling of love that so naturally covers them both. Protects him and loves him and holds him close against him.

He couldn't be more thankful for Crowley's patience and devotion. He rather not even think of where he'd be without him.]

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damn you, now I need to draw that outfit

do it

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