Work Text:
Aziraphale buries his face between Crowley’s thighs, deep into the heat of him. His fingers ghost feather-light over Crowley’s sides as Aziraphale wraps his mouth around his cock. Crowley moans, and Aziraphale can feel how tense the demon’s body is, how hard it must be for him to hold himself back from moving; but he does as Aziraphale says, and Aziraphale rewards good behavior. He presses his tongue along the underside of Crowley’s cock as he goes down, nearly to the base. Dark hair tickles at his nose. He repeats himself as Crowley tenses and moans and grips the sheets.