Crowley feels that eagerness and rides alongside it, tracing his tongue back up the angel's shaft before wrapping his lips around it, bringing it into his mouth. He could be more careful, he thinks. He could move a little slower, kiss more of Aziraphale's body, take his time. But there's really only so much patience that he has, really. And they've been waiting a very long time.
He wants to share more with the angel. He can give him all of his love, all of the time he's wanted and waited, but that doesn't seem like enough. He wants to give him more, give him more of his emotions, slide things against him, share things the angel hasn't felt before. The thrill of driving down an open road 60 over the speed limit, the danger in meeting a lover one is not supposed to have.
But in a way, that last one, is that so far away from what they have now? A liaison between them, two lovers who are definitely not meant to be together but love each other despite it? There is a thrill to that, even if it comes with the heartbreak that they won't ever have the peace they want.
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He wants to share more with the angel. He can give him all of his love, all of the time he's wanted and waited, but that doesn't seem like enough. He wants to give him more, give him more of his emotions, slide things against him, share things the angel hasn't felt before. The thrill of driving down an open road 60 over the speed limit, the danger in meeting a lover one is not supposed to have.
But in a way, that last one, is that so far away from what they have now? A liaison between them, two lovers who are definitely not meant to be together but love each other despite it? There is a thrill to that, even if it comes with the heartbreak that they won't ever have the peace they want.