Oh Hell. Crowley hisses at the sound of his name on Aziraphale's lips. The angel is so incredibly fucking sexy right now, so overwhelmed and tempted and in pleasure. Crowley moves his fingers, spreads them, pumps them gently in and out of the angel to prepare him.

He can feel the angel reaching, and he can do nothing but reach back to him.

"I want you," he whispers back to him. He wants him, he loves him. There has never been anyone but Aziraphale in his heart. Never.