goodtobebad | open post;

[ 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.]

[ Every single one of Aziraphale’s kisses and touches has Crowley falling deeper and deeper in love. By now he ought to be used to it, since it’s been happening for so long - all his smiles and his coy looks and his hedonistic tendencies have always done that to him, but now it’s even worse, and Crowley wouldn’t stop it even if he could. ]

Keep doing that and I’ll never let you open the shop again...

[ Obviously that’s a lie - when Aziraphale wants to do something Crowley will always make it happen and they both know it. He’s just drifting in this cocoon of love and happiness and pleasure and right now never wants it to end. ]

[ Well, don't tell him, but Aziraphale is quite happy to be drifting along with him. ]

Well...that's quite the problem, isn't it? [ Murmured tenderly and quiet, followed by a kiss under Crowley's eye, thumb still petting at the side of his jaw.

Oh, whatever shall the angel do?]

Hm. [ He kisses Aziraphale’s lips again, gently. ]

I dunno, difficult to think of it as a problem from right here...

[ He skims a hand down, finding a ticklish spot and teasing a bit. ]

Oh- [ That makes him jump, and he harmlessly taps a hand on the demon's shoulder. ]

Crowley. [ Fresh! Oh, but how amused does he look. ]

[ Crowley smiles, only slightly wicked, and even as the angel continues to squirm, catches his mouth again. His lips are still parted, on a laugh, on his name, whatever, and Crowley experimentally takes advantage of the situation, swiping his tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth, needing a better taste.

He’s definitely getting a bit fresh. ]

[ He makes a quiet sound of surprise, muffled, eyes opening, hitching a breath, but he doesn't...quite...pull away.

He only blinks, taking a moment to flutter his eyes closed and and gently grips on Crowley's arms. Whatever temptation the demon's putting on, he's apparently chosen to reciprocate. ]

[ When Aziraphale holds him instead of pulling away, Crowley makes a somewhat helpless noise in the back of his throat, and lets a hand tangle in the angel’s hair. He’s not taking any more liberties - at least not yet - but he’s going to take full advantage of the liberty he’s already taken, because he can’t imagine how kissing the angel could get any better, and yet it just did. ]

[ He's full of surprises, isn't he?

The hand in his hair makes his chest flutter in ways he doesn't remember feeling. One of his hands comes up to the back of Crowley's neck, not quite gripping, gentle, but there, while the other brushes up his arm and against his side, right under his ribs.

He's very soft too, for what it's worth. Warm and familiar. Oh, he could get lost in this, and never come back. ]

[ He can’t help the moan he lets out as they kiss and hold each other and kiss some more - it’s needy, almost, and aroused, and this is so much more than he ever thought would be possible with the angel.

Eventually, he has to stop, has to break the kiss, if only because he needs to get control of himself again. But all he can do is stare into Aziraphale’s eyes, stroking his hair, love and desire and everything just - there, between them. ]

[ That sound coming from Crowley does more than he could probably admit, at least now. But he knows, oh, he knows he's going to be thinking about it for a while.

He's breathing a bit heavier - but still soft, always, quiet - catching his breath and not breaking his gaze. So much that's going to go unsaid, as if it could break this moment at any time, but it hangs there and won't go ignored. His hand is still on his side, another behind his neck, Crowley's hand is still in his hair, and he just wants to pull him in again.

It's maybe too much. But he doesn't want to let go. Maybe he's too selfish. Maybe he shouldn't bother with these questions at all.

Despite his own body not being more than a construct and a choice, he doesn't catch himself before he says it again- ]

I love you.

[ He makes another sound, because frankly? It’s much more than the physical going on here. The words ring so true and earnest from his angel that they send a shiver through his body and he holds on tighter. ]

Say it again?

[ He almost hates himself for how much he needs to hear it, all the time, over and over. ]

[ In that moment, Aziraphale realizes he could say it over and over and over, if that's what Crowley wanted.

The hand behind the demons neck pulls him closer, and the angel presses a kiss to his brow and looks him close.]

I love you...

[ Quieter, more private. Only and forever for them. ]

I love you, too.

[ Oh, it's good. It's so good to say it. He simultaneously wants to shout it from the sky so that everyone can hear, and also keep it just between them, but he could do this forever. ]

Suppose we could keep saying it back and forth for a bit. [ He jokes, because he knows he'd have to stop to kiss the angel again. ]

[ Of course, that's only natural.

Aziraphale smiles almost giddily, in that way he does every time he thinks of something funny. ]

For all of eternity?

[ One mountain he wouldn't mind climbing over and over and over and over. ]

We could give it a shot.

[ Crowley pets Aziraphale's hair affectionately. ]

Or we could just kiss, instead...

I like that one.

[ A little less coy. Just a little bit. He still looks down and smiles almost shyly, but he doesn't hesitate. He brushes his finger thought the hair on the back of Crowley's neck.

They're really not going to talk about the tongue business. ]

[ They're not going to talk about it, perhaps, but Crowley is going to do it again - right now. Kiss him again, gently coax his lips apart, perhaps less intense than earlier - more leisurely, more exploring, if Aziraphale will allow it, anyway. ]

[ Oh, and he does. There's a very faint sound to him, very quiet, as he parts his lips slightly and tilts his head, and the hand on the back of Crowley's head digs into his hair.

His other hand brushes down to his shoulder, his collar, his chest - just gently brushing against the skin, feeling the warmth, the softness. Down to his ribs and landing sweetly on his side, resting there where it feels like it belongs.

The voices, the doubts, they're getting quieter, farther away. Maybe he can't match the speed, but he can meet him there. ]

[ Aziraphale's touches are so incredible, as far as Crowley is concerned. He finds himself shivering again as that hand skips over his ribs, and he has to laugh into his mouth. ]

Angel... you're already so good at this...

[ He hums curiously, vaguely. Though he can't help but feel flushed. If he looks at him too much, he might hesitate, and that would be the whole effort gone. ]

Only for you, my love...

[ Does that even make sense? He doesn't even know if that makes sense.

But he'll avoid thinking about it by taking the time to press a few kisses on the corner of his mouth, on his cheek, down on his neck, right under his jaw. Very soft, tender kisses. Not quite digging in there, all very careful, but each one of them a message and a promise. ]

[ Crowley sighs, more than happy to let Aziraphale do as he pleases. In fact, he shifts, rolling onto his back and tugging the angel along with, to give Aziraphale a better chance to do so. ]

Well, don't stop.

[ Now he does falter, finding himself on top of the demon, albeit still hidden away in their comfortable bed. It snaps him out of his...daze? Focus? Or any other word you might like to call it, and he takes a moment just looking down at him.

And he doesn't quite say anything. Perhaps he lingers a few seconds too long, looking like he has something to say, but never quite getting there. There is...oh, there is a lot to this. Don't mind if he spares a glance to what parts of Crowley's body he can see this way. His eyes, his mouth, his chest...

He swallows dryly, but he doesn't clear his throat. Finally leans down to press his lips against the demon's neck and closes his eyes, resuming his trail of well devoted kisses. Nothing that'll leave a mark, but careful all the same, all important, all considered. One hand on the opposite crook of his neck, the other finding its place on his side, right where there's the slightest hint of a curve, somewhere where it can hold onto nicely.

There's barely any pressure to his movements. Some uncertainty. But that can certainly be worked on.]

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thirst snake thirst snake

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