"Mmmm!" Though he was anticipating it and even braced for the inevitability, the surprise touch of his tongue, the movement-- There was wine in his mouth, good quality and Aziraphale felt heady with it; the slick heat felt so decadent. This was a sin. He knew it was. Especially since that hand clutching at the back of his shirt just spurred him on, made him want to sin more. To move closer. To touch and explore.

But was it selfish to have so tempted a demon and then to pull back? Or perhaps, his purpose here was to seduce Crowley to the light? Could he do that? Could he try? He would still have to leave without him but--! Surely this world could use an angel or two.

No, that was absolutely ridiculous. There was justification and then there was desperation. There was inspiration and then there was this. And this was far more than simple inspiring.

With a soft groan he pulled back, but only to disengage. Their faces were still close, though his eyes were still closed and he ran his hand back to settle on Crowley's waist then, accidentally slipping against skin that had been exposed when his shirt had apparently ridden up a little and that too was tempting to sample.

"Tell me how this is good," he murmured. "Tell me how I can do this for the benefit of Heaven. Please." He was good with words. He had imagination, which was something Heaven was severely lacking, including himself. It was looked down on actually. One didn't need to imagine, one just had to do. Follow orders. No creating something whole cloth out of God's perfection.

But Crowley could, and right now he needed those words more than anything.