For wingsandtea

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Olympus follows day and night like any point on the mortals' Earth, and at the moment the sun has set just enough to light the white marble pillars shades of pink and orange. Chaises and cushions are scattered everywhere in the airy space and lush carpets and tapestries cover every inch of the hard marble floor. When Eros appears in the center, red

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[wingsandtea]

Aziraphale has traveled many different ways, but this is the first time anyone's transported him. His arms remain around Eros' waist as he looks around the temple. It does occur to him, briefly, that this was a place he shouldn't be. An Angel of Heaven in the temple of on Olympian. And yet, he can't bring himself to really care.

It's a moment before he does pull away, moving so he can look around the temple.

"It's beautiful."

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Eros releases him easily, watching with a faint, affectionate smile as the curious angel examines the interior of his temple. It's very likely this is the first time he's been to Olympus, though he is not the first of Heaven's Host Eros has hosted here.

"It is," he agrees. "And peaceful. I'm not here often, my discipline keeps me in the world."

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[wingsandtea]

Aziraphale closes his eyes and with a small shift in his stance, his own wings materialize. Living among humans as he does, it's not often that he has the opportunity to spread his wings. And he has to admit, it feels so good to stretch them out.

"It's almost like Heaven." He turns and gives Eros a smile. It doesn't feel as blasphemous to say that as he thought it might.

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Oh, his wings. The admiration is clear on his face as Eros crosses the carpeted floor. "Lovely," he breathes and raises a hand to very gently brush his fingers against soft feathers, wondering how sensitive the angel's wings are to touch.

Some he's encountered have no feeling in their wings at all; for others, stroking their feathers is akin to stroking their hair; for a few - himself included - running a long primary between his fingers prompts a much stronger, sharper reaction.

[wingsandtea]

The touch to his wings sends a shiver along Aziraphale's spine. There's a soft sound, close to a purr. There weren't many occasions where someone would touch the soft feathers of his wings. And certainly not in the way Eros was touching them now.

"I think I rather like what you're doing there." Actually, yes, he's fairly certain he does. "And I won't object if you wish to keep doing it."

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Eros laughs softly as his fingers trace along another primary feather. "Thank you for the assessment," he murmurs. "I'm glad you won't object, because I was looking forward to doing this." He trails his fingers over the line of the wing as he walks to Aziraphale's back, then leans forward to press a slow, deliberate kiss to Aziraphale's wing, just at the joint.

[wingsandtea]

Aziraphale's eyes flutter shut and he makes a soft sound that he's sure he's never made before. But it does seem very appropriate for the current situation. He sways a little bit, thinking that now would be a lovely time to lay down.

"Yes. That's very nice. Very nice indeed."

He shifts and turns to face Eros, reaching out to brush his fingers over his skin. He leans in then, kissing the young god with more ferocity than he would have thought possible for himself.

Aziraphale is learning quite a few things about himself today.

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The fierce intensity of the kiss takes Eros by surprise, something he'd never expected - wasn't he going to be leading the angel? - and his gasp of surprise is lost in Aziraphale's lips. The kiss sends a wave of heat washing through him and his knees are unexpectedly weak for a moment.

Long fingers tunnel into Aziraphale's hair as he steps forward and drapes himself against the angel, leaning into the kiss with a low, heated moan.

[wingsandtea]

Aziraphale still needs to be guided because he doesn't really know what he's doing here. Just going on instinct and that will only get him so far. The angel wrapped his arms around Eros' waist, his fingers brushing over the feathers of Eros' wings. Just as Eros had done with him.

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Eros' breath catches at the tentative touch and he shifts his wings into Aziraphale's hands, gently guiding him toward the sensitive smaller feathers. His hands settle at the angel's waist and he takes a step backward, toward a sea of cushions.