Crowley grins against Aziraphale's skin, loving the sounds Aziraphale makes. "Thought you'd like that," he murmurs, kissing Aziraphale's shoulder again. He keeps his wings firmly cocooned, a steady cage around Aziraphale's, not trapping but offering support. His fingers stroke the prostate again, a third time, then press down a little harder. "Still good, angel?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-02-27 04:55 pm (UTC)