Crowley sprawls out on the blanketed rock, stretching his long limbs every which way, like some manner of scaly scarecrow, before patting his lap invitingly. How convenient that there is a light chill in the air and his love might need keeping warm while he snacks on cake.
"Sounds tempting. Come here, love, let me rub your shoulders. You baked that cake and then did so well today in the water."
And how can he resist? Aziraphale is such a warm and comfortable weight spooned in his lap. He gives Aziraphale's hand a squeeze before getting to work at kneading the tension from between his shoulderblades.
"I always thought that kelp could get tall, but trees are really something else. Must be great to just run in here and hide from predators, nothing would be able to find you."
"Oh no," Aziraphale responds. "The predators in the woods can smell you. And I'm a terrible runner, can't imagine trying to get away from anyone in the woods." He shakes his head, and then pauses to moan a little as Crowley gets a particularly nice spot.
"It's hardly an issue anymore, though, predators stay out where there are large groups of humans present. I suppose we are the predator."
When Aziraphale moans, Crowley presses an appreciative kiss to the back of his neck, humming with approval. Deft and clever fingers continue to carefully unravel the tension in Aziraphale's back.
"You're the predators? I thought you said you didn't hunt...?"
"Yes, well, I don't hunt. Some humans do. We got very good at it, and then we started farms with animals that we... grow." He doesn't think he's explaining this very well. "We found some that like being kept, you see, and so, there's honestly no need to hunt anymore. But people still do it, of course. For the sport."
"Those with animals on farms sometimes have so much meat, they sell the rest to those of us who don't have animals and who don't hunt."
Crowley is trying to picture a farm, with what vague idea he had of land animals 'growing' on it like forests of kelp.
He suspects that he probably doesn't have that entirely right.
"I see, so you barter other skills for food. Yes, we do that too. Some are also too weak, too sick or too old to hunt, and they're also taken care of."
Has hands have moved to Aziraphale's mid-back, and he bumps his nose occasionally into the crook of his neck as he works away his tension.
"Do you know where a farm is? It'd be interesting to see one."
"Of course! I can take you to one nearby. The old couple who run it are very nice, they might let us come see the animals. No hunting, though, we won't be eating them. Just... petting them, maybe."
They've got goats and sheep and a cow and pigs and some chickens.
"I will warn you, the smell is quite awful."
But they are soft, and Crowley appears to like soft.
Crowley thinks it's a rather odd thing to get emotionally attached to animals you're going to eat, but it does sound like a wonderful trip. He'll learn so much about the way humans live, which sounds very different from the kind of hunting and gathering merfolk do.
When Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, Crowley beams.
"What do sheep look like?" he asks eagerly, resting his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Are they soft like seals?"
Aziraphale laughs at the idea. "Hmm, yes I suppose so. They've got eyes like seals. But long noses. And they're completely covered in curly white fur."
He takes Crowley's hands and he puts it in his hair.
Stroking his long fingers through Aziraphale's curls, Crowley gives him an incredulous look.
"You're having me on. You're soft as - as clouds. Or that cake you made!" He nuzzles into Aziraphale's neck, flicking his tongue over Aziraphale's pulse. "...And just as sweet."
"If you think sheep are softer, I'll get an hour teaching you how to read. And if you think I am softer, we can spend an hour figuring out how to swim."
Honestly it's a win/win, there's no losing here, except for Aziraphale who feels like he is losing every time Crowley is so near and so seductive and he does nothing about it.
There's a low, soft chuckle from Crowley as he ceases his teasing kisses and settles his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. It's not only a win-win situation, it's all things they intend to do anyway.
"I like this wager. Alright then, I accept."
His eyes droop a bit as he watches the last fading rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves.
"It's so peaceful on land," he drawls lazily. "S'a nice change of pace, not having to worry if something big is going to spring out the muck."
"We built cities too," Crowley says, eyes now shut, and his body going slack. "S'not like this though. Always something trying to make you into dinner."
As if to emphasize his point, he gives Aziraphale's ear a little nibble.
He laughs a little and leans into it. "Are you going to eat me?" he asks, perhaps a little flirtatiously. He bares his neck, making it look good enough to nibble as well. After all, Crowley might be a little bit uninterested in the food he's packed for their picnic.
Crowley has never been a big eater. Not that he doesn't like food - he is, in fact, quite delighted by human delicacies thus far - but Aziraphale is far more pleasing to nibble on.
He takes the bared neck as an invitation to plant tender little kisses down his throat, though he keeps them relatively chaste.
"Oh definitely," he murmurs, arms around Aziraphale giving him a squeeze, "whenever you feel ready for that. There's no rush - just a little taste of you is divine."
He feels a blush creep up onto his face. "Ah... my dear," he says, now feeling it furiously. "I do love the way you talk."
He's never really been desired before, and this is all very new for him. He finds he quite likes it, particularly since he finds Crowley so very desirable himself. He doesn't know how to articulate such a thing, so instead he leans his head against Crowley's shoulder and hopes he gets the message.
He does, indeed, get the picture, adjusting his position so Aziraphale is encircled by his arms and nestled between his legs, the merman lavishing kisses into the nest of curls.
"I love when your cheeks go all pink, like coral," he says, reaching up to brush his knuckles over said cheeks. "And your eyes, sparkling like stars - ! Full of wit and wisdom, my clever and brave love."
"When my cheeks go all read, it means... the blood is rushing towards them, making them hot." He lifts one of Crowley's hands, to rest it on one said cheek.
"It means my heart is beating fast," he adds, moving Crowley's hand to his chest.
Crowley's fingers press gently into the soft flesh, feeling the thrum of Aziraphale's heart through the palm of his hand. It's a wonderful feeling, filling him with warmth and even more affection for this wonderful man.
As the first stars of the evening wink into existence, Crowley shower's Aziraphale with more kisses.
"You do feel very warm," Crowley agrees, and tugs a bit at the collar of his lover's shirt, teasing lightly. "Might be all these layers and it's not even chilly out."
But then, that is rather subjective. Crowley has spent nearly the entirety of his life swimming the cool depths of the ocean. The air on the surface is positively balmy.
"S'a funny feeling though, isn't it? My heart feels like it's trying to do backflips, but I don't feel anxious or worried at all."
no subject
"Sounds tempting. Come here, love, let me rub your shoulders. You baked that cake and then did so well today in the water."
no subject
"You really don't need to, but..." He looks on coyly. "If you want, it is a little bit tense between my shoulderblades..."
He gives Crowley a soft smile.
no subject
"I always thought that kelp could get tall, but trees are really something else. Must be great to just run in here and hide from predators, nothing would be able to find you."
no subject
"It's hardly an issue anymore, though, predators stay out where there are large groups of humans present. I suppose we are the predator."
no subject
"You're the predators? I thought you said you didn't hunt...?"
Crowley is a little bewildered by this.
no subject
"Those with animals on farms sometimes have so much meat, they sell the rest to those of us who don't have animals and who don't hunt."
no subject
He suspects that he probably doesn't have that entirely right.
"I see, so you barter other skills for food. Yes, we do that too. Some are also too weak, too sick or too old to hunt, and they're also taken care of."
Has hands have moved to Aziraphale's mid-back, and he bumps his nose occasionally into the crook of his neck as he works away his tension.
"Do you know where a farm is? It'd be interesting to see one."
no subject
They've got goats and sheep and a cow and pigs and some chickens.
"I will warn you, the smell is quite awful."
But they are soft, and Crowley appears to like soft.
no subject
"Nah, I'm used to bad smells. Can't be worse than decaying whale carcass."
Because having that float by his den one day had been an absolute nightmare.
His arms settle around Aziraphale's middle, and he nuzzles up against his cheek. He does, indeed, like soft.
no subject
"Then I will take you to see all the animals." Well maybe not all of them.
"I think you'll like the sheep." He turns his face to catch Crowley's eyes and try to imagine him lifting up and petting a huge, wooly sheep.
no subject
When Aziraphale peeks over his shoulder, Crowley beams.
"What do sheep look like?" he asks eagerly, resting his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Are they soft like seals?"
no subject
He takes Crowley's hands and he puts it in his hair.
"Sort of like this, but longer, and thicker."
A pause.
"And much softer!"
If he can believe it.
no subject
Stroking his long fingers through Aziraphale's curls, Crowley gives him an incredulous look.
"You're having me on. You're soft as - as clouds. Or that cake you made!" He nuzzles into Aziraphale's neck, flicking his tongue over Aziraphale's pulse. "...And just as sweet."
no subject
But his pulse quickens, racing underneath Crowley's tongue, and his breath staggers and struggles in his lungs.
"Why don't we make it a bet?"
no subject
"Alright," he affirms, lips brushing gently over the nape of Aziraphale's neck. "What'll we wager?"
Crowley's lips hover just beside the rim of Aziraphale's ear, his breath warm as he awaits his answer.
no subject
Honestly it's a win/win, there's no losing here, except for Aziraphale who feels like he is losing every time Crowley is so near and so seductive and he does nothing about it.
no subject
"I like this wager. Alright then, I accept."
His eyes droop a bit as he watches the last fading rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves.
"It's so peaceful on land," he drawls lazily. "S'a nice change of pace, not having to worry if something big is going to spring out the muck."
no subject
Generally it is idyllic, isn't it? Out here on the seaside, just working day to day, getting to come home.
no subject
As if to emphasize his point, he gives Aziraphale's ear a little nibble.
no subject
no subject
He takes the bared neck as an invitation to plant tender little kisses down his throat, though he keeps them relatively chaste.
"Oh definitely," he murmurs, arms around Aziraphale giving him a squeeze, "whenever you feel ready for that. There's no rush - just a little taste of you is divine."
no subject
He's never really been desired before, and this is all very new for him. He finds he quite likes it, particularly since he finds Crowley so very desirable himself. He doesn't know how to articulate such a thing, so instead he leans his head against Crowley's shoulder and hopes he gets the message.
no subject
"I love when your cheeks go all pink, like coral," he says, reaching up to brush his knuckles over said cheeks. "And your eyes, sparkling like stars - ! Full of wit and wisdom, my clever and brave love."
no subject
"It means my heart is beating fast," he adds, moving Crowley's hand to his chest.
no subject
As the first stars of the evening wink into existence, Crowley shower's Aziraphale with more kisses.
"You do feel very warm," Crowley agrees, and tugs a bit at the collar of his lover's shirt, teasing lightly. "Might be all these layers and it's not even chilly out."
But then, that is rather subjective. Crowley has spent nearly the entirety of his life swimming the cool depths of the ocean. The air on the surface is positively balmy.
"S'a funny feeling though, isn't it? My heart feels like it's trying to do backflips, but I don't feel anxious or worried at all."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)