As Crowley takes advantage of Aziraphale's open mouth, the angel realizes helplessly that he was wrong before. This kiss is better than anything, and the one after that, and the one after that... he loses count, swept up in the slick tenderness of Crowley's lips and tongue, the hands that chase the shivers that run rampant up and down his back.
And then Crowley says that he loves him, and the doves in his heart are all a-flutter, a wild beating of wings against his chest. He feels like he might discorporate, and leans into Crowley that much more, chasing each kiss as if it might be the last.
When they take another break, he's flushed and disheveled, like he's just gotten out of Crowley's Bentley after another harrowing speed race through downtown. Excepting he's smiling, practically glowing. Scratch that, he may actually be glowing a little. "I know you do. It's wonderful to hear. And to say. I love you, darling."
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And then Crowley says that he loves him, and the doves in his heart are all a-flutter, a wild beating of wings against his chest. He feels like he might discorporate, and leans into Crowley that much more, chasing each kiss as if it might be the last.
When they take another break, he's flushed and disheveled, like he's just gotten out of Crowley's Bentley after another harrowing speed race through downtown. Excepting he's smiling, practically glowing. Scratch that, he may actually be glowing a little. "I know you do. It's wonderful to hear. And to say. I love you, darling."