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[goodtobebad]

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[goodtobebad]

Crowley is also getting a little distracted by the angel’s skin, but eventually the question comes out, and he’s able to parse it. He pulls back, forcing that look now.

“What, you want to move in together?” He pauses a beat, then shrugs. “Sure, sounds like a great idea. I don’t care about the flat all that much. We could set up the flat above your shop if you want.”

[theniceone]

Oh. Well, that was much easier than Aziraphale expected, and he beams. Congrats, Crowley, you have one very happy angel on your hands. Or rather, under them. "We could do, yes. Though...I was also thinking it might be nice to spend a little time outside of London. I rather feel we've both earned a holiday. And that flat would be a little crowded for us both."

[goodtobebad]

That does surprise him a little. “You want to leave London? Really? I mean, sure, we can go wherever you want. But you love London.”

[theniceone]

"Very much," Aziraphale admits. "And I wouldn't want to go too far away, not so far that we couldn't nip into town for dinner, for example, when we were in the mood. But..." He reaches up and strokes Crowley's hair, curls fingers behind his ear. His expression is soft, even by his usual standards. "I would rather like to...to have you all to myself, for a while, somewhere new. Someplace with no memories for either of us except the ones we make together. Somewhere that's just ours."

[goodtobebad]

Why does Aziraphale have to be so... so... good, all the time? So sweet and... and angelic? It's more than enough to make Crowley melt all over him. Well, that, and the petting. He's a sucker for the petting. He's growing his hair back out, he likes it so much.

"Yeah, that... that sounds great," he admits, closing his eyes in pleasure at the touches. "We could, uh, do this, all the time."

[theniceone]

"That was part of the appeal, rather," Aziraphale murmurs, with more than a hint of a smirk. He enjoys the petting very much, and enjoys Crowley's evident enjoyment of it even more. "We could get a larger bed, for one thing."

[goodtobebad]

"Oh yeah?" Crowley snickers at the thought. "And what would you do with a bigger bed, hm? You don't sleep..."

He pokes the angel gently in the side, nipping at his shoulder playfully.

[theniceone]

Aziraphale's smirk grows as he scrapes his nails down Crowley's spine, from neck all the way down to buttocks. "I daresay I could keep myself occupied."

[goodtobebad]

Crowley hums happily. So what if they've already had a go tonight? They can do whatever they like, as often as they like.

"Occupied... reading a good book?" he suggests, insinuating his leg between Aziraphale's thighs.

[theniceone]

Aziraphale has always believed that if you're going to enjoy a thing, enjoy it thoroughly. And he does so enjoy Crowley. He makes space willingly for Crowley's leg, squeezes his thighs around it, lets his hand wander lower and cup the demon's arse. "Of course," he says primly, the very image of a prissy angel--if one ignores the light of bastardry in his eyes. And the way his hair is tousled in a way that strongly suggests I was thoroughly debauched and debauched earlier, and I quite liked it. "What else would one do in a bed, if one doesn't sleep?"

[goodtobebad]

"Hm," Crowley hums thoughtfully, between kisses. "I'm thinking of a few things right now, actually..."

The angel is just so soft and warm and also enthusiastic, it's rather intoxicating when you get right down to it, and Crowley is definitely getting down to it, licking into the angel's mouth eagerly as they kiss, pressed close as they can get.

[theniceone]

"Are you really?" Aziraphale breathes, somewhere between swiping his tongue across the roof of Crowley's mouth and tugging at his lower lip. Crowley's eagerness is heady, and the way he's so physically affectionate these days a source of constant delight. Aziraphale has always been a little too hedonistic, and oh, how he indulges himself now... "Do enlighten me, my dear."

[goodtobebad]

Crowley grins, keeping him close. He's never been the touchy-feely sort, but with the angel, he can't get enough.

"Well, with a nice big bed, I could massage your wings," he points out, letting his voice drop a bit to a more seductive tenor. "Rub you down all over."

[theniceone]

"Oh--" Aziraphale's lips part at that idea, his eyes darkening, his fingers suddenly curling harder into Crowley's skin. Somehow that's an idea that hadn't yet occurred to him. The fact that it's said in that downright sinful voice only makes it more appealing. "I...would like that. Very much."

He trails his hands back up on Crowley's back, brushing his fingertips along the line where Crowley's wings would appear, if they were manifest. "I should like to do the same to you. Such light, teasing touches of fingers, soft brushes of thumb, suggestive. "Stroke all your feathers and kiss my way down your spine at the same time. Bite the back of your neck--"

He suits action to word in part, his mouth moving down to Crowley's neck, scraping teeth over his pulse-point. "Press you face down into the mattress and take you from behind, with my teeth in your neck and your wings spread under me--"

His hands are moving more urgently now, clutching at Crowley's skin to get him closer.

[goodtobebad]

Aziraphale has such a perfect combination of imagination and a way with words, it’s a wonder Crowley doesn’t just discorporate on the spot. His cock gives an eager sort of twitch at the thought, and he shivers under the touches.

“Please,” he groans, fingers sliding lower, seeking Aziraphale’s cock.

[theniceone]

"Hmm?" Aziraphale leans back enough to look Crowley in the face, his expression a little too innocent, his eyes shining with mirth. "Did you want something, dearest?"

As though he can't feel Crowley's cock hard and twitching against his leg, as though he doesn't hiss breath in a little as long, clever fingers wrap around him.

[goodtobebad]

“Ngh,” is Crowley’s response, because as Aziraphale gets more articulate, he tends to get less so. Not that he’s ever especially articulate.

He strokes the angel’s cock, pressing kisses to his neck.

“You,” he finally manages. “Want you.”

[theniceone]

Aziraphale feels a thrill of pride every time he manages this, and suspects he always will. "Are you saying," he murmurs, his mouth somewhere near Crowley's ear, hot breath stirring his hair. "That I've tempted you?" He moves his hips slowly, stroking into Crowley's hand, but not too fast, not yet. Some things deserve to be savoured.

[goodtobebad]

Oh. Oooooh, he loves it when the angel gets like this. He’s putty in Aziraphale’s hands. It just can’t be helped!

“Mm-hm,” he affirms, giving his cock a squeeze. “You always do, angel.”

[theniceone]

"You don't seem--ah--to be trying to thwart my wiles--" Aziraphale's head falls back. Between the twin sensations of Crowley's mouth and Crowley's hand, coherency is growing difficult. Clever mouth, clever fingers...

[goodtobebad]

Crowley licks at Aziraphale's neck, humming. "Can't thwart you," he murmurs. "Not like this. Can't resist."

He turns, meeting the angel's gaze for a moment. It's almost a pleading sort of look. He wants to be tempted.

[theniceone]

Aziraphale's smile is confident, even smug, but also deeply loving. Oh, he knows what his demon wants, what his demon desires..."How shall I take you, my dearest?" he murmurs, reaching down in turn and running a fingertip along Crowley's own cock, from base to tip and back, then fondling his balls oh-so-gently. "Like this, with each of us in hand? With both our hands holding both our cocks, so they slide against each other?" He teases at that point, shifting his hips so that whisper becomes truth for a moment. Just a moment. "Or--"

He lets go, grabs Crowley's hips in a bruising grip, turns his head so he can bite at Crowley's ear, his breath hot. "Or shall I let you penetrate me, have you call my name with every thrust? Or shall I do as I just foretold, and push you down and claim you as mine?" Another bite, a flick of tongue. "Tell me, love. Whatever you want--"

[goodtobebad]

It's almost unfair, how good he is at this. Isn't he supposed to be an angel? And yet, here they are. Crowley is practically a mewling mess underneath him, squirming and clutching at him with every sly word that passes his lips.

They all sound perfect.

"Ngk," he mutters, unable to say anything else for a moment. "I love your dirty mind, angel... I want you to fuck me. Claim me."

[theniceone]

It's all a language of love, is the thing. And Aziraphale is an expert when it comes to love, and particularly when it comes to loving Crowley. The fact that he's also a sensualist and has read more books than anyone else on Earth, including quite a lot of less than polite ones (really, any number of the classics are positively filthy)? Those are just bonuses.

Aziraphale chuckles and rolls them over, pins Crowley's wrists to the mattress. His kisses are edged with teeth, and he sucks hard at Crowley's neck, then kisses the spot lightly as though in apology afterwards. It's not an apology; it's a promise. "Say it again for me, dearest. What you want." Aziraphale's eyes glint with bit of a bastardness.

[goodtobebad]

That bit of bastardy is exactly what Crowley loves about the angel. Well... one of the things. Right now, it’s forefront in his mind, though, as he wiggles and rolls his hips.

“Fuck me,” he says again, voice pleading. “Remind me who I belong to.”