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[goodtobebad]

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[goodtobebad]

For now.

[ Grumble grumble. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[Oh, bother.]

Well, perhaps there's some room for improvement. I... can't really think of any at the moment, admittedly, but....

[He's not quite sure how to finish that sentence, so he doesn't, pressing another kiss to his forehead, maybe two, maybe one to his cheek. What? Kissing is nice.]

[goodtobebad]

You might not be able to think of any, but I can.

[ None of the improvements Crowley has in mind involve cheap parlor tricks, though. Most of them, in fact, involve the angel kissing him. Possibly in various states of undress. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Then by all means, enlighten me.

[He kisses him again, once, twice, gleaming a bit, knowing exactly what he means: do him on a bed of roses. In fact, the roses are optional.]

[goodtobebad]

[ If he wants roses, Crowley will give him roses. The fresh-picked sort, even. Just... probably not tonight, since he knows Aziraphale prefers the non-miracled sort. ]

The first improvement would be to get your clothes off. And mine, too. There are just too many clothes in this bed right now.

[goodoldfashioned]

Right, yes, we wouldn't want them to wrinkle too much.

[He could just miracle them off, he knows, but he's the sort who buys his own clothes in the first place, so he's going to undo the buttons and ties himself, if he can. Of course, it's also a little more difficult than usual because he keeps reaching out to Crowley instead of his clothing, so perhaps some miracle assistance wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all.]

[goodtobebad]

Yeah... wrinkles.

[ That's exactly what he's concerned about here. Not anything to do with getting the angel naked. Nope.

Given their positions, it's probably best that he performs a demonic miracle at this point. So - snap. Aziraphale's jacket, waistcoat, shirt, tie - all instantly removed from his person and folded neatly over the back of a chair across the room. ]

Better. C'mere.

[ Crowley is going to pull him into a kiss now. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Much, I think.

[Aziraphale feels flush from his head to his toes, going where he's bid. Kissing: still very nice. Especially if he tilts his head like so, so more of them end up pressed into his neck or his throat, those are even better. And Aziraphale is quite keen to return the favor, one hand pressed softly to Crowley's jaw, helpful to reel him in, the other somewhere along Crowley's arm, helpful to anchor himself to him.]

[goodtobebad]

[ This is much, much better than silly magic tricks. At least, Crowley thinks so. Even if all they do is some heavy petting, he's more than happy to oblige the angel.

Still, he lets his hands wander a bit, one of them sliding to Aziraphale's hip, then around to grope his ass, Crowley humming against his skin. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

[Aziraphale loses track of where Crowley's hands are going until he feels a squeeze. He can't quite help his soft laugh.]

You wily thing, you. [Fondly, as always. Aziraphale, for his part, drops a hand to Crowley's back, luxuriating in the knobs of his spine and the warmth of his skin, as if it were possible to urge him closer that way.]

[goodtobebad]

I don't know what you're talking about. You're the one who's a walking temptation.

[ Honestly! Being so soft, and cushy, and - just generally very attractive! ]

[goodoldfashioned]

You're hardly one to talk, being the same.

[Honestly! Being so bendy, and angular, and - just generally very attractive!]

[goodtobebad]

Yeah, but that’s just my job. I mean - I’ve never... you know. Tried to... seduce you, or... I’m not that kind of demon!

[ He does not know how to deal with compliments. Please give him more. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

You're the very best kind of demon, I'll have you know. [Kiss.] In a class of your own. [Kiss.] Full marks. [Kiss.]

[Why certainly, he'd be glad to.]

[goodtobebad]

Hngh. You just say that because... [ He tangles his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair. ] Because I feed you a lot. Oh, don’t stop...

[goodoldfashioned]

Wouldn't dream of it. [He continues, peppering in kisses as he speaks.] And I just say that because it happens to be true. You mean so much more to me than just... a delivery device for lunch. I-- I could go without, for a time, but not you, not-- not ever again, I'm afraid.

[He sighs, happy.] Oh, Crowley.

[goodtobebad]

Well...

[ Aziraphale is definitely saying things that Crowley both loves to hear and also doesn’t know how to respond to. ]

I couldn’t do without you, either. Haven’t, for a long time.

[ As if that wasn’t obvious, by now. His almost puppy-like devotion to the angel over the centuries being the biggest giveaway. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

What a pair we are.

[He's running out of words, too, as it turns out, but luckily he seems to be remarkably fluent in applying mouth to neck, which he'll continue demonstrating.]

[goodtobebad]

What sort of pair is - is that?

[ Crowley smiles faintly, clutching at the angel, gripping his hips, tilting his head to give him more access. ]

Oh, that's good. The humans who invented this knew what they were about.

[goodoldfashioned]

Definitely one of their better ideas, I-- I have to agree.

[Aziraphale keeps a hand in the dip of Crowley's back. Not squeezing or gripping so much as fluttering. It's also a bit tricky to keep talking when he's gone a bit breathless with it all.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Angel, you don't need to breathe.

But Crowley can agree with the general sentiment. Even as he slides his leg between Aziraphale's so he can press even closer. ]

's a good one...

[goodoldfashioned]

[Excuse you, he forgot he doesn't need to breathe, he's a little overwhelmed at the moment!]

No, uh, no complaints from me.

[Now the hand at his back's gone grippy. With the other hand, he tries to push a lock of hair out of Crowley's eyes, so he can see them better, he wants to see this, he wants-- he wants so many things, a little tremble running through him as if he could vibrate out of his skin if it'd get him closer to Crowley.]

[goodtobebad]

Yeah? 's good?

[ Look, it's not his fault he wants to be told he's a good boy. Even as he trails his lips down Aziraphale's throat. ]

[goodoldfashioned]

Yes, very, oh, a little to the left---

[If he'd be so kind? In return, he smooths the hand on his back up and down, urging him on.]

[goodtobebad]

[ Crowley is very happy to oblige, moving exactly as the angel suggests and holding him even closer, that hand right around the base of his wing making his head spin a little. ]

Hngh, angel...