Crowley draws in another ragged breath, closes his eyes. Aziraphale's mouth is warm on his skin, and the smell of his breath somehow shoots down Crowley's spine, pooling in the small of his back, hot and hungry. He shudders with anticipation. "How d'you want me, then?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-03-15 12:55 am (UTC)