[ 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. ]
Oh, Crowley, dearest. You-- you must know that you, you're always you.
[That doesn't seem to make much sense, but Aziraphale is a little too busy to worry about things like sense or grammar right now.
Of course, all the (very lovely!) attention to the wings has an effect, which is that on the next pass, they FLOMPH outward like champagne when it's been uncorked or a parachute unchuted.]
[His feathers are more than a bit ruffled -- he never quite got into the habit of keeping them as neat and clean as Policy encouraged. He doesn't even bother trying to stifle his giggling as Crowley explores. If he was a bit ticklish before, well, his wings are another story.
He presses a kiss to Crowley's forehead, not as frenzied and rushed as before, rather calm and soft, a sort of thank you.
In between the laughing, of course.]
In fact, you could say there's no contest, my dear boy.
Allow me to return the favor? I love you very much, you see, and I... well, I wouldn't want you to forget that, either. Dreadfully important.
[He's lost track of his limbs somewhere down the line, and if pressed, would probably have difficulty remembering that they're even in a bed. He tracks down where one of Crowley's hands went and holds it in both of his, warm and sure.]
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[If he'd be so kind? In return, he smooths the hand on his back up and down, urging him on.]
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Hngh, angel...
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S-sorry, ticklish!
[And, oh, now that he's started laughing a little, he's having a bit of trouble stopping, his kisses turning more into gasps of air.]
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Good to know.
[ Not that he's going to use the knowledge right now... but eventually...
For the moment, he just keeps doing what he's doing, grinning at the angel. ]
shit lost the notif
[He doesn't know what Crowley might, in fact, dare to do, but he also knows the surest way to make that happen is to fuss a bit first.
Speaking of which, he's gone rather boneless and he can't seem to stop trembling.]
no worries~!
[ He's in fact simply continuing the current trend of stroking the wings and enjoying the sounds Aziraphale makes and all. ]
Anyway, if you didn't want me to start something, you shouldn't have been so... so... you.
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[That doesn't seem to make much sense, but Aziraphale is a little too busy to worry about things like sense or grammar right now.
Of course, all the (very lovely!) attention to the wings has an effect, which is that on the next pass, they FLOMPH outward like champagne when it's been uncorked or a parachute unchuted.]
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I'm always me? I'm assuming that's a good thing...
[ Aziraphale is so beautiful. He's entranced. ]
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[His feathers are more than a bit ruffled -- he never quite got into the habit of keeping them as neat and clean as Policy encouraged. He doesn't even bother trying to stifle his giggling as Crowley explores. If he was a bit ticklish before, well, his wings are another story.
He presses a kiss to Crowley's forehead, not as frenzied and rushed as before, rather calm and soft, a sort of thank you.
In between the laughing, of course.]
In fact, you could say there's no contest, my dear boy.
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You know I love you, right?
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I do, yes. And you know I feel the same? That I love you.
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[ He smiles faintly. ]
I mean, you've got one up on me: you can sense it, can't you? But it's pretty obvious, even without being able to sense it.
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[Sensing it feels a bit like cheating, sometimes. Not when he can hear it directly from the source.]
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[ How's that??? ]
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Allow me to return the favor? I love you very much, you see, and I... well, I wouldn't want you to forget that, either. Dreadfully important.
[He's lost track of his limbs somewhere down the line, and if pressed, would probably have difficulty remembering that they're even in a bed. He tracks down where one of Crowley's hands went and holds it in both of his, warm and sure.]
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[ Usually he'd make some sort of smart remark here, but... well. This is nice. Nice in the best way possible. ]