Aziraphale made a noise of surprise as he was pulled down onto the bedspread, Crowley's mouth hot against his. He kissed Crowley thoroughly, lips sealed together, and opened his mouth and slipped his tongue into Crowley's.
He was sure, at one point, that he made a noise like "Ngk" as Crowley returned the favour, their tongues tangling against each other, hot and wet and so fierce.
Aziraphale, in his most secret of dreams, had never begun to think that Crowley would be as bold as this (although the tongue was not entirely unexpected, but he wouldn't admit that unless he was extraordinarily intoxicated). He wasn't at all put out by Crowley's enthusiasm. Rather the opposite, actually.
The ice began to melt in Aziraphale's hand, and trickle down between them.
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He was sure, at one point, that he made a noise like "Ngk" as Crowley returned the favour, their tongues tangling against each other, hot and wet and so fierce.
Aziraphale, in his most secret of dreams, had never begun to think that Crowley would be as bold as this (although the tongue was not entirely unexpected, but he wouldn't admit that unless he was extraordinarily intoxicated). He wasn't at all put out by Crowley's enthusiasm. Rather the opposite, actually.
The ice began to melt in Aziraphale's hand, and trickle down between them.