Another Year, Another Open RP Post

[duckshaveears]

Currently offering: Crowley, angel!Crowley, Haleth. Will update this if that changes. If you want one of those three, have at it.

Comments

bow ties would also have been welcomed, but this is better for this

[duckshaveears]

Crowley's never imagined kissing like this. It's slow and sure, deliberate, eager but gentle. Aziraphale strokes down his back in a way that makes him arch into a bow, then enfolds him in an embrace again, all without breaking the kiss. Crowley in return tangles fingers in his hair, tugging gently, then runs a hand down his shoulder and arm, his flank and hip, pulling his thigh to wrap a leg around his own.

And all the while there are soft, pleased noises of exploration, small gasps, easy sighs.

Lovemaking, Crowley realizes. That's what this is. Not any of the more playful or frantic things he's dreamed about, not sex or fucking. He's being made love to, he's making love to Aziraphale. That's why it's different.

Oh.

He holds Aziraphale hard and close for a minute, breaking the kiss in order to bury his face in his angel's neck.

put a pin in bow ties for later, though.

[confoundthemighty]

Crowley breaks off the kiss, pushes his face into Aziraphale’s neck, and he can’t help but be reminded once again of the scalding loneliness of tears on his skin. While he’d been reveling in the knowledge that he was loved, Crowley had been certain that what they’d just done could never truly be real—a certainty that had only been shattered a few minutes ago. This is new for both of them, but newer for Crowley, if only by the space of a dream.

Gently he strokes fingers through his demon’s hair, silently reassuring. He can take this at whatever pace Crowley needs. Even without feeling them directly, Aziraphale can tell the deep tides of want and hurt are still there; he may not be able to banish them, but he can be an anchor to cling to, a sanctuary.

The hand still on Crowley’s back gentles too; his arms tighten just a little around the thin body twined with his own. Though he brushes a kiss across the slope of Crowley’s bare shoulder, it’s more soothing than anything else. Not an invitation, but a comfort, given freely and intentionally.

Aziraphale holds him. Just holds him.

Stay with me; I promise I’ll stay with you.

hell to the yes. Though maybe it should be Aziraphale tying up Crowley instead. (maybe = definitely)

[duckshaveears]

It's not pain this time, nothing grieving or anguished. He just...needs a moment. Turns out that getting what you've always wanted can be a bit overwhelming.

It's not a terribly long moment, all told. Not when his nose is right up against Aziraphale's neck, where the scent of him is strong and intoxicating (and real, real, real) and his skin is warm, begging to be nuzzled and licked and worshipped. It's all irresistible and for once Crowley isn't even trying to fight it. He surrenders whole-heartedly, tongue flicking out to taste the skin before his mouth presses to it, first in a kiss and then a series of light nibbles, tasting and teasing.