Angels didn't taste of fire and sin. Their light burned but in a much more holy way. The light of the sun so intense it seared away all the darkness around it. Crowley found himself momentarily lost in that light. Not caring that a sad child wailed as his promised ice cream landed on the ground instead of making it's way to his mouth or that an ice cream vendor fanned herself as she watched... but really as a demon he wouldn't have been bothered by that to begin with.

He snarled low and approvingly as Azriaphale moved against him, favoring the angel's lip with an impassioned nip of his own. His free hand searched down the angel's back to his hip, clawing at it in an effort to draw him closer. Dark wings began to tuck and fold, enveloping both of them in a cozy veil, selfishly trying to capture all of that light for himself. He wouldn't share, wouldn't regret, he reveled in this sin taking delight from every little noise, every little touch Azriaphale blessed him with.

And then suddenly there was glass, as demon pressed angel back against the large picture window of the weapon's shop. He hadn't realized they had still been so close to it, but even that didn't matter. On full display he spoke the name that was to become his new prayer between greedy kisses.

"Azriaphale."