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He smiled gayly up at the ceiling, hands pliant next to his head. Eyes shut, body floating. In layman's terms he was blissed out. If Aziraphale so much as brushed him he shuddered both in sensitivity and the possibility of his Angel lacing their fingers together and taking him again.
Aziraphale lay next to him on their bed. Propped up so he could gaze down at his husband with fondness. Sometimes his eyes would shift to a more carnal direction, watching like a hawk as Crowley's face changed from its blissed out state to gasp as he felt stocky hands rub expertly between his legs.
For the upteenth time he uncoupled his knees and opened up. If Crowley hadn't had a hoarse throat he would have been louder, but all he could muster were soft groans, pliant gasps and hums of appreciation as he was rubbed slowly to completion. His oversensitivity made this round a short one and he shuddered. Quietly moaning as Aziraphale kissed him. Crowley felt so loved, his whole world felt pink and yellow, laying here with his husband in their cottage, a haven away from the world
His face returned to its blissed out position. Sometimes his arms stretching up like a cat as he felt akin to jelly, pliant, melting into the bed, or he pulled Aziraphale in for a kiss. Slowly. Taking their time. Parting with matching smiles.
After a long while of embraces and longing looks, Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyes flash again. They weren't humans but even supernatural beings had limits and Crowley had nearly reached his limit for a lifetime. But Aziraphale was unrelenting and insatiable, and Crowley loved it.
Aziraphale gazed at him with a resurgant hunger, dipping down to have a taste. He worshipped Crowley. Placing chaste kisses from Crowley's neck to his stomach. He knew all the places that made Crowley keen and giggle and abused them on his path.
Crowley felt a soft bite on his hip and he knew it would join the crown of flower-like bruises that crossed his stomach like a belt. He groaned low in his throat and felt Azi kiss and lick where he had just bitten in a show of comfort.
The rough was behind them and they had slowed their tempo to a lazy pace. After what felt like hours of his Angel worshipping his body they locked eyes, sharing a look of such profound fondness it could kill a duck. Aziraphale took one of Crowley's hands in his and descended.
The pace was unhurried and comforting. There was no destination they were hurring for. It was just a slow and dedicated form of love and worship that they both indulged in.
Crowley was the loveliest thing Aziraphale had tasted in all his six thousand years. Happily lapping up what he was given while Crowley lay back and adored the attention. He knew this could go on for hours.
Earlier in the week when eating out his dear husband he would sometimes break out of the trance and wickedly suck somewhere sensitive (seeing as he is a bit of a bastard) and feel Crowley almost snap in half underneath him as he came again.
But this time was different. The build was slow, all consuming and wonderful. Crowley saw stars and he let out blissed sounds from his core. His husband continued.
Hours later Aziraphale lazily finished him off for a final time. He came up to lay next to Crowley with their hands still entwined, softly kissing his forehead before they both dozed off.