Crowley moans against Aziraphale's mouth at the reply. He wants that, too. He wants to claim the angel, to be inside of him, to hold him and to love him. He tumbles into Aziraphale's eagerness, mirroring it with his own. He has wanted this, longed for it, for so long.
He slides his hand back down, tracing it over the curve of the angel's arse. So much time wasted, and he doesn't want another to go by, but he also wants to take his time. One moment at a time, one sensation at a time. He traces his hand over his arse, then back over the back of his thigh, before moving up between his legs, carefully.
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timeasmymeasure
Tops That Cry: The Anthony J Crowley Story
Date: 2019-09-26 12:35 am (UTC)He slides his hand back down, tracing it over the curve of the angel's arse. So much time wasted, and he doesn't want another to go by, but he also wants to take his time. One moment at a time, one sensation at a time. He traces his hand over his arse, then back over the back of his thigh, before moving up between his legs, carefully.