[Aziraphale has never been great about talking about what he wants. That has nothing to do with Crowley, who has been patient beyond measure, but unfortunately the poor demon has borne the brunt of it, forced to guess the angel's desires based on the look in his eyes or the slant of his mouth.

He doesn't want it to be a guessing game for Crowley anymore. Especially not here. With a slow exhale, he props himself up on an elbow so that he can make eye contact with Crowley, his smile warm and a touch nervous.]

Yes, I mean other than your fingers. But I'd like your fingers first, obviously. I know you'll take good care of me, you always have.