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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Sun, Nov 3, 20249m
Crowley growled, leaning back onto the desk, taking the angel with him. "I want to come inside you." He nodded all too eagerly. "Please let me come inside you." He purred until, "Angel." He narrowed his eyes. "You're...you took charge again!" Aziraphale scrunched his nose. "Oh, darling, it's not my fault you are so obedient." ------ Crowley likes what he likes and had never occurred to him, maybe Aziraphale would do all the work just to please the demon. He could always try.
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"Aziraphale debated internally a bit, but curling his arm up around Crowley's shoulder really was more comfortable. He knew he was being silly. He knew a dance was nothing and if it made Crowley happy after his feelings had apparently been hurt it wasn't much to ask, but-it was the demon. He had the literally infernal talent to make even the simplest, least dubious things feel like a temptation. Aziraphale knew it was Crowley's nature, and not strictly saying his fault, but it did sometimes make things feel *complicated*." Biarritz, South of France, 1921. Aziraphale stumbles on Crowley apparently working the hotels and casinos as a gigolo. At least, that's where it begins.

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