[A teasing, sultry grin from a smug mouth, smudged and stained and thoroughly indecent. Crowley lets him help her up, swaying a little on her heels, then refastens her hair ornament and cleans herself up. They leave the cloakroom decorous enough for anyone's standards, provided that anyone didn't look too closely at Aziraphale's neck. Crowley silently vows that next time they dine here, she'll fuck him up against the wall. Or let him fuck her up against the wall. Either way. On a pile of coats. Something. A new dessert tradition.
They find a cab and break all the rules of seatbelts as Aziraphale keeps her snuggled in ridiculously close. Crowley doesn't argue. She nuzzles at his face and ear and squirms happily when his hand slides up her leg or under the hem of her skirt, or when the hand holding her side stretches a finger and teases along the curve of her breast. They talk low, teasing and flirting and reminiscing and laughing, above all laughing. Neither of them can stop laughing, or touching each other, or beaming like lovesick idiots, which they are.
It's the best night Crowley can ever remember having, and they aren't even at the show yet.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-12-17 09:26 pm (UTC)[A teasing, sultry grin from a smug mouth, smudged and stained and thoroughly indecent. Crowley lets him help her up, swaying a little on her heels, then refastens her hair ornament and cleans herself up. They leave the cloakroom decorous enough for anyone's standards, provided that anyone didn't look too closely at Aziraphale's neck. Crowley silently vows that next time they dine here, she'll fuck him up against the wall. Or let him fuck her up against the wall. Either way. On a pile of coats. Something. A new dessert tradition.
They find a cab and break all the rules of seatbelts as Aziraphale keeps her snuggled in ridiculously close. Crowley doesn't argue. She nuzzles at his face and ear and squirms happily when his hand slides up her leg or under the hem of her skirt, or when the hand holding her side stretches a finger and teases along the curve of her breast. They talk low, teasing and flirting and reminiscing and laughing, above all laughing. Neither of them can stop laughing, or touching each other, or beaming like lovesick idiots, which they are.
It's the best night Crowley can ever remember having, and they aren't even at the show yet.]