Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

[questionablewit]

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Brilliant ideas and clueless flailing all welcome.
AUs and cross-canon, drama and comedy and shipping.
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Comments

I think they'll be in denial for a while, but it'll probably come back to haunt them later

[salutosinedelectat]

He's light and warmth and caring and protection, here and Somewhere else. For as much as he's always been meant to be, never before as he found himself so fitting to his purpose. But perhaps even the thought is pointless, remnants of the ideas of Meant To Be, Made To Be. Concepts they've both broken through a long time ago, but the shards lay to remind him and to pull him back into things that no longer hold any value. To worry about filling a part. But he's here now, they're here now, and they're something entirely new and unique, not because they have to be, but because they want to. And the only creature that's ever understood him never demanded him to be anything beyond who he is.

( He still feels weak, and sore, and hurt, fear biting at the edges of his wings. Darkness creeping at the edges of his light, and he's afraid, so afraid, that this might not be real. He's so afraid that this is all but a moment in his own thoughts, a way to save him from a much bleaker reality. But, if that's true, he doesn't know if he's strong enough to test it, for fear of the truth.

So he'll live here, for now. For however long. For how long he can make all of this last.)

His lips part, tongue brushing against the serpentine one, welcoming him in, gently. One of his hands pull away from Crowley's cheek to stroke up the outside of his thigh, and back down with an encouraging squeeze, his hips pressing down and returning the demon's movement.

He still remembers the first times, when Crowley encouraged him through the new, the vulnerability, the things they had yet learned about each other and about being with each other, their bodies, what makes them warm, what makes them shiver. Every little detail, since then, he holds at the back of his mind, for times like this. The way he knows Crowley appreciates the long strokes of his hands over his skin. How he likes when he angel presses his weight down on him like so. The soft touches, cheek, neck, skin, that give the angel the time to appreciate both the sharpest and the softest parts of his corporation, and he knows Crowley will be patient. And he knows just how to reward him so.