He should ask the angel. He might might like the answer.
His wings flex and softly hit against the bed as he arches his back. He holds on tight, the music their share growing louder and louder and clearer. There's somewhere to go, of course, and he wants to reach it with him, but there are some things he don't want to end, such as the brand new connection they're sharing.
But there's no need to get ahead of themselves. His breathing gets more ragged and eager - of all the times he's bound to forget he doesn't need it, clearly this is one the thought is miles away -, and every time Crowley moves, every movement they make together is another note on this crescendo, growing louder and closer to the climax, and Aziraphale hears him, hears his voice, hears his soul, and he could swear they could become one right then.
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His wings flex and softly hit against the bed as he arches his back. He holds on tight, the music their share growing louder and louder and clearer. There's somewhere to go, of course, and he wants to reach it with him, but there are some things he don't want to end, such as the brand new connection they're sharing.
But there's no need to get ahead of themselves. His breathing gets more ragged and eager - of all the times he's bound to forget he doesn't need it, clearly this is one the thought is miles away -, and every time Crowley moves, every movement they make together is another note on this crescendo, growing louder and closer to the climax, and Aziraphale hears him, hears his voice, hears his soul, and he could swear they could become one right then.