Crowley doesn't comment in it, can't comment on it, not when Aziraphale is looking at him like that, with all that want, as if he's the sort of thing that an angel could ever want. His heart aches with the knowledge that it isn't real, that this is the best he'll ever get. Something fake, something that's practically hurting Aziraphale with how unnatural it is.]
I know, I know. [It's quiet, almost plaintive, and he can't help the soft sound of surprise he makes at the sight of Aziraphale's wings. It takes every ounce of his own self control not to touch them, but he manages it, shifting enough to disappear his glass into the ether and then get his arms around the angel's shoulders. He's so focused on not touching feathers that he doesn't think much about curling a hand around the back of Aziraphale's head, holding him carefully in place.] S'alright, I've got you.
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Crowley doesn't comment in it, can't comment on it, not when Aziraphale is looking at him like that, with all that want, as if he's the sort of thing that an angel could ever want. His heart aches with the knowledge that it isn't real, that this is the best he'll ever get. Something fake, something that's practically hurting Aziraphale with how unnatural it is.]
I know, I know. [It's quiet, almost plaintive, and he can't help the soft sound of surprise he makes at the sight of Aziraphale's wings. It takes every ounce of his own self control not to touch them, but he manages it, shifting enough to disappear his glass into the ether and then get his arms around the angel's shoulders. He's so focused on not touching feathers that he doesn't think much about curling a hand around the back of Aziraphale's head, holding him carefully in place.] S'alright, I've got you.