"Crowley," Aziraphale gasped when the demon's clever mouth took him in. Something so pleasurable surely had to be a sin. There was no other word for it, as hot and sweet as it felt, how beautiful Crowley looked kneeling there before him, so that he felt himself blushing violently but too lost in the sensations to care. He stroked through Crowley's hair with trembling fingers, guiltily encouraging him. Even if some archaic part of him believed that it must be sinful for an angel to receive this, the rest of him was too subsumed by love and gratitude to pay any attention.
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