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His angel’s small dessert spoon clinks as it hits the now-empty porcelain plate.
What was he doing? He tenses and relaxes his body to figure out where he is and what exactly he was doing to get that reaction and quickly realises his foot is snugly pressed between Aziraphale’s plush thighs and poking at his intimates.
He also didn't realise he was looking into the table when he shoots his eyes up at a wince from Aziraphale and actually looks at his face.
Aziraphale is glistening with sweat, there are droplets on his upper lip and his gorgeous curls are wet and sticking to his now-pink forehead. The angel bites his lip nervously and they lock eyes.
He removes his shoed foot from Aziraphale's crotch and Aziraphale gasps, he bows his head down as he removes his shoe from under the table with deft fingers. Then he looks up at Aziraphale again, one eyebrow cocked up over his sunglasses.
Aziraphale takes a deep breath and gives a quick nod, wringing his hands and putting them slowly on the table.
Crowley grins and glides the foot over to Aziraphale again.
First by his shoe, then snaking up a few centimetres by his ankle, slipping under his trousers. He snakes out again and follows the inner leg, then inner thigh, all while drinking in Aziraphale's expressions and the way it looks as if he's going to bend the spoon from the grip he has on it.
Aziraphale’s Adam's apple bobs deliciously in his throat and his eyes are squeezed shut. Crowley removes his sunglasses and taps Aziraphale's leg with his foot to get his attention.
"Hm!" Aziraphale opens his eyes and looks at him, gaping when he meets his eyes.
Look at me, Crowley mouths, not making a single sound.
Another swallow from Aziraphale, then a lick of the lips, almost red from blood flow, but he doesn't let go, keeps looking, only closing his eyes to blink. Crowley curls and stretches his toes in such a way to envelop all of his girth, and Oh, Aziraphale was a wonder to look at. His eyes half lidded and mouth half agape, his breath hitching, Crowley can FEEL the lust radiating off of him, it's overwhelming, but he keeps going.
Aziraphale melts into his chair a little and Crowley takes the opportunity to trace his big toe from anus, Aziraphale bites his lip, to perineum, he breathes in sharply, he toys with the balls, and then goes back to stroking his cock idly.
Aziraphale’s fingers are itching to do something, he knows him well enough to know the angel's anxious wiggling fingers.
Crowley leans over the table, serpent that he is, and intertwines their fingers, he nods and smiles and Aziraphale sighs into the touch.
Crowley finds the cockhead and rubs circles on it, the best he can while working his way through two layers of fabric. It doesn't seem to bother Aziraphale though, whose shoulders are raised and whose angelic strength is showing as he is, most likely absentmindedly, squishing Crowley's hands.
Aziraphale’s breath gets quicker and quicker and he grinds down on his teeth "Cr-Crowley-" he whimpers.
With the lean he already has over the table, it doesn't take much more, only for Aziraphale to- "kiss me" he whispers, and Aziraphale complies.
Crowley barely has time to open his mouth before Aziraphale's tongue is breaching him, licking under his tongue to feel the soft smooth skin under there, sucking Crowley's tongue into his mouth, absolutely devouring him.
When Aziraphale ate his food he was slow, well mannered and doing so with centuries old etiquette. When he eats Crowley however, it’s nothing of the sort, rather eager, depraved and debauched.
Crowley presses the full flat of his foot to Aziraphale’s cock, feeling the pulsating rhythm from it.
Aziraphale moans into his mouth, Crowley tries to swallow it down, they are at the Ritz for hell's sake.
He presses harder and curls his toes to rub the head again and Aziraphale cries into their mouths, he feels the wetness now, through Aziraphale's pants, trousers, and Crowley's sock. He gulps as he feels Aziraphale shake and jolt and squeeze his hands arrhythmically.
Aziraphale mouth goes slack and he kisses soft kisses to his mouth, cheeks, hands.
"Hey angel," he whispers.
"Mn?" Aziraphale's eyes are closed and his fingers have gone slack, no longer iron gripping Crowley's lithe hands.
"Let's go home, yeah?" and before Aziraphale can respond, he flicks his fingers.
They end up in Aziraphale's soft warm bed in their bookshop.
"Crowley! No, we didn't pay!" Aziraphale stresses and shakes his head, slow and still definitely tired from coming.
"Don't worry angel, I gave them a huge tip," Crowley responds and kisses Aziraphale’s perfect nose "Now let me take care of you."