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[questionablewit]

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[duckshaveears]

[Blue eyes meeting gold. It's easy to fall into Aziraphale's eyes from this close up, that soft blue dream of sky. Crowley shivers a little as fingers drift down the back of his neck, but doesn't look away.

Not until those fingers are in his hair, teasing the short strands, then his eyes drift closed at that and he bites back a moan. He can't help it. They both learned last night how he reacts to having his hair played with. He's already vowed to grow it out again, already fantasized about those possibilities. He swallows, and his voice is husky when he answers.]

We better test it, then. Make sure it's fit for purpose. [He chuckles, opening his eyes again and grinning, seizing one of Aziraphale's wrists and bringing it to his mouth to kiss.] Wouldn't want to bring a substandard bed with me as my dowry.

[confoundthemighty]

[A faint shiver of joy runs up the inside of his arm when Crowley's lips press to the inside of his wrist, following the sweep of his breath. Six thousand years, and he's just now learning firsthand the spectrum of pleasures that his skin can understand. And it's still incredible, to him, how much they can communicate to one another through touch alone--he feels as if last night they said a thousand things to each other that they have yet to put into words, that he may well spend the rest of his life sorting out.

The grin is nothing if not catching, though, and Aziraphale beams back at him, and it's probably something of a miracle they're not both glowing.]

You are yourself a dowry, [he murmurs, and leans up to kiss Crowley quick and warm before he can protest quoting one of the gloomy plays again.] But now that you mention it, it could use a little more testing. See if it's up to all the exercise we'll be putting it through.

[duckshaveears]

[Crowley laughs, a little breathless.]

I'm no Cordelia, angel.

[He could make an argument for the Almighty as Lear, maybe, comparisons of various abuses of power and power's responsibilities, but that's a subject for another day when they're both more drunk and less naked in a bed. Aziraphale naked in a bed definitely deserves more attention right now.

Crowley returns the kiss for the moment but then goes back down to Aziraphale's hand, sucks a little bit at the delicate skin of his wrist, grazes his teeth over it, then kisses his way slowly and deliberately up the arm. The inside of the elbow gets the same treatment the wrist did. The whole time he keeps his eyes on Aziraphale's face as much as possible, wanting to see every single reaction.]