"There - " Crowley says, pressed against the curve of Aziraphael's neck.
He moves his hand, the one under Aziraphael's, just half a fraction up - just enough that the angel's fingers slip between his own, so he can twine them together.
(Aziraphael's grasp is as much a request as anything. Crowley answers with a faster stroke again; with another nonsense murmur, echoing against the angel's skin; with a fluid twist of his wrist.)
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-12-30 05:53 am (UTC)He moves his hand, the one under Aziraphael's, just half a fraction up - just enough that the angel's fingers slip between his own, so he can twine them together.
(Aziraphael's grasp is as much a request as anything. Crowley answers with a faster stroke again; with another nonsense murmur, echoing against the angel's skin; with a fluid twist of his wrist.)