Date: 2019-09-25 12:21 am (UTC)
salutosinedelectat: (Default)
I just want you is the fuzzy sounding answer that comes back.

He gently grips his fingers in Crowley's hair, seemingly still caring to not grip too hard, not in any way that would hurt or sting. Because of course he wouldn't. And his over hand, still over his mouth, doesn't serve to cover too much as the fingers as slightly splayed, and the angels breathes in a shaky gasp and makes quiet, restrained sounds.

Oh, Aziraphale could easily understand the anatomical aspect of it. In fact, if he was asked, he most probably could recite every detail of what a body does. A normal one, however, and theirs exist with far different limitations. But it's nice to simplify, at times.

Desire is a bit of an overwhelming feeling for him. In the usual sense, it's somewhat still alien to him. Pleasure, however, is familiar in many forms, and there are many forms at play in this moment alone. But he still tries to reach Crowley with more than that, something a bit clearer - unnecessary, to be sure, but he is who he is -, and music is what comes of it. Music, not a particular one, much like the stories. Feeling. Emotion. Losing yourself into something beautiful.

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𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞

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