[ Crowley finds that he's trembling too, as he catches his breath over Aziraphale, still resonating with the forces of need and desire and shattering pleasure that moved between them. Aziraphale in his release was such a beautiful thing, he can't imagine that he'll ever forget the feeling of it, even if he should live a hundred thousand years. He licks his lips, tasting the angel's come, looking up when Aziraphale says his name--captivated by the utterance of it, how much love there is in the depths of Aziraphale's voice. His eyes widen, going dark and desperately impassioned, and it feels to him as though the angel is strong beyond measure as he pulls Crowley up to him and kisses him, love poured into the gesture, love that feels breathtakingly eternal, love that could shatter him at his core and make him something new.
Crowley is drowning in it, grasping Aziraphale with hands that hold onto him as though he is the only thing keeping him whole. His wings move with a restless, enormous rustling like the branches of a tree tossed in a thunderstorm, tangling with Aziraphale's.
At last he must break away, before he's completely overcome, burying his face against Aziraphale's shoulder as he struggles for breath. For so long he's wanted to feel this, and it's better than he could ever have imagined. He'd not conceived of how an angel's love could set his soul alight. He kisses his shoulder, filled with an unaccountable gratitude. ]
Aziraphale. Angel. I won't--I won't ever forget this.
[ Aziraphale's great white wings flutter to catch shelter and nest themselves underneath Crowley's, easing into his embrace so that they are truly and wholly cut off from the entire rest of the world. He's lost track of the time, unable to tell it by the little light filtering in through the top, casting a little halo in Crowley's hair, painting a faint celestial glimmer on his cheek and nose. If only it were possible, Aziraphale could kiss Crowley holy again, fingertips leaving exaltation, and arms to draw him away from downfall. ]
The goal, Crowley, is to remind you periodically so I will never have to worry about the possibility.
[ He says it so easily despite all his worries, because he knows there's an underlaying fear upon them; it's one that has no chance of reaching either one so long as Aziraphale feels that if he should flap, there's a fair chance it may be black wings that carry him into the sky. He holds Crowley to his shoulder, skin laid out against his skin. And he caresses the ink by his temple, and kisses the crown that once was filled with the plans of the whole universe, now made only to bear the burden of one angel's love overflowing.
He hooks one leg around one of Crowley's, entangling them together as if he would need any other obstacle to keep him from leaving. ]
If there were a way, I'd stay like this with you indefinitely.
[ He has no doubt as to how he would choose to wile away all his days, if they were his to decide. ]
[ He can feel the drag of white wings against his, and it makes him shiver with pleasure and longing. Crowley can’t help reaching out a hand to trail along the edge of one of those great wings, smoothing the feathers, feeling the warmth and the faint bite of holiness underneath. And he too wishes, at that moment, that Aziraphale had the power to drag him back into the light—not for the want of Heaven or the love of God, but so that nothing would ever keep them apart again, nothing would come between them and the love he yearns for with all his damned soul.
He lays quietly beneath the stroke of Aziraphale’s fingers to his cheek, caressing the skin still flushed and hot from their lovemaking, but lifts his head when Aziraphale says that he’d like to stay like this indefinitely, echoing Crowley’s thoughts. And he smiles ruefully, saying aloud what he was just telling himself. ]
Don’t think of it, angel. You’ll still have me when I’m not there. You won’t forget, either.
[ It’s a bit like a prayer. Crowley kisses him as though to offer all his heart, and then lays his head back down against his shoulder, closing his eyes to rest. ]
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Crowley is drowning in it, grasping Aziraphale with hands that hold onto him as though he is the only thing keeping him whole. His wings move with a restless, enormous rustling like the branches of a tree tossed in a thunderstorm, tangling with Aziraphale's.
At last he must break away, before he's completely overcome, burying his face against Aziraphale's shoulder as he struggles for breath. For so long he's wanted to feel this, and it's better than he could ever have imagined. He'd not conceived of how an angel's love could set his soul alight. He kisses his shoulder, filled with an unaccountable gratitude. ]
Aziraphale. Angel. I won't--I won't ever forget this.
no subject
The goal, Crowley, is to remind you periodically so I will never have to worry about the possibility.
[ He says it so easily despite all his worries, because he knows there's an underlaying fear upon them; it's one that has no chance of reaching either one so long as Aziraphale feels that if he should flap, there's a fair chance it may be black wings that carry him into the sky. He holds Crowley to his shoulder, skin laid out against his skin. And he caresses the ink by his temple, and kisses the crown that once was filled with the plans of the whole universe, now made only to bear the burden of one angel's love overflowing.
He hooks one leg around one of Crowley's, entangling them together as if he would need any other obstacle to keep him from leaving. ]
If there were a way, I'd stay like this with you indefinitely.
[ He has no doubt as to how he would choose to wile away all his days, if they were his to decide. ]
no subject
He lays quietly beneath the stroke of Aziraphale’s fingers to his cheek, caressing the skin still flushed and hot from their lovemaking, but lifts his head when Aziraphale says that he’d like to stay like this indefinitely, echoing Crowley’s thoughts. And he smiles ruefully, saying aloud what he was just telling himself. ]
Don’t think of it, angel. You’ll still have me when I’m not there. You won’t forget, either.
[ It’s a bit like a prayer. Crowley kisses him as though to offer all his heart, and then lays his head back down against his shoulder, closing his eyes to rest. ]