rafaelafranzen
16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead
(requested by @callmekate08 aka the super talented @dotstronaut via discord)
“No.”
“Crowley, dearest—”
“Not happening.”
Aziraphale dropped to his knees in front the couch, where Crowley was huddled under a nest of blankets. The spreading warmth of their fireplace was a pleasant contrast to the crisp winter air, and the crackle and pop of the burning logs underscored the muted whine of the wind blowing flurries of snow against their windows.
The angel leaned forward, bracing a hand on one of Crowley’s knees, and tugged off the blanket covering his head.
“Hey—” Crowley objected, glaring at him as the blanket slid off.
“Please?” Aziraphale opened his eyes very wide. “I’ve been practising.”
“You—hmph.” Crowley disentangled an arm from the layers of fabric and ran a hand through his hair. It was still rumpled from the blanket, sticking out in odd directions. “I’m not… it’s too cold.” The conviction in his voice was already faltering.
Aziraphale grinned, and reached up to smooth a palm over the bare skin of Crowley’s neck, accompanied by an effort of will. Crowley hummed, pressing closer as Aziraphale pushed gentle heat out from the point of contact. The demon’s eyes fluttered closed, and his hand drifted down to cover Aziraphale’s.
“Well?” Aziraphale asked innocently. “Problem solved?”
Crowley’s yellow eyes opened, brow furrowing. “You—” He shook his head, sitting up a little straighter and letting his hand fall into his lap. “Still not happening, angel.”
Aziraphale pulled back, bracing a hand on one hip as he eyed the demon critically. “You know, my dear, if you can’t dance you can just tell me.”
“Can’t—” Crowley lurched up, fighting against the blankets and unfolding his legs. “Can’t—course I can dance!”
Aziraphale got to his feet, smile beaming, and held out a hand in offer. He quirked one eyebrow.
r-you-kidding-me
amnhnyc
rem-ir
bethtothefuture
ethereal-menace
azira-crow
fishyfishyfishtimes
