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[bookshopped]

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[goodtobebad]

[ There it is. Crowley stops looking at the ring on his finger long enough to roll his eyes at the angel affectionately. ]

Heaven forbid you get wrinkled trousers.

Yet.

[ He smirks a bit. ]

[bookshopped]

[There's the faintest lift of his eyebrows, the start of an amused spark in blue eyes.]

Yet?

[Good lord does he love that smirk. He's terrifically weak to it, and probably very obvious about that fact.]

That sounds suspiciously like a prelude to something.

[goodtobebad]

Only if you want it to, angel.

[ What a mess he’s gotten himself into. A wonderful mess. The things he’ll do for a pretty face. Or something. Whatever, he’s kissing Aziraphale again, because he can. ]

[bookshopped]

I'd have thought it obvious by now that I always want it to.

[He's not exactly subtle. Not now that they sorted themselves out into this delightful new shape. Being a couple, being together, well Aziraphale thinks it suits them perfectly.

And then there's kissing, and the angel is all too happy to melt right into that particular temptation.]