[ 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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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. ]