Work Text:
“Got you in my clutches now, angel.” Crowley squeezes, suiting action to word. He sinks onto the sofa, pulling Aziraphale with him. “You’re trapped.”
Aziraphale’s own arms tighten in response, subtly nudging Crowley’s embrace into a more secure hold. “So I am. My, how dreadful.”
“You’ll never escape.”
“No,” Aziraphale agrees cheerfully. “This is my fault. I should have known not to trust you. Wily, tempting serpent that you are.”
“Mhm.”
“Whatever will I do.”
“Stay in my clutches?” Crowley suggests.
“Hm.” Aziraphale pretends to consider. “Not a bad idea.”
“Terrific.”
“I’ll thwart your wiles,” Aziraphale promises, cuddling in. “Later.”