𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞

Crowley might not consider himself those things, but Aziraphale has known the sweetness there is to him for a very long time. The kindness and the gentleness that he, by what is said, should not have. Perhaps by virtue of how long they've known each other. Perhaps thanks to all those late night drinks in the bookshop, all those lunches, all those meetings in the park. Perhaps it was all the things they could never say, that bubbled right under the surface. Regardless, he's known it to be true.

The angel arches his back slightly, once again along with Crowley's hand, reacting, feeling the temptation to expose his wings, a true part of his essence, but...no. Not yet, anyway. He does consider it, but he waits. He asks him to wait.

A soft breath against Crowley's lips when he feels the teasing bite. Still so gentle, he thinks, fondly so. And he takes the moment to push down his trousers, which takes a bit more effort by just how closely they're hugging against his skin. A couple more sweet, small kisses are given, before he has to pull away to actually get rid of the last barrier between them.