[It's not Crowley's style to pout and plead, although he can be very persuasive in his own way. The suggestion alone makes Aziraphale feel all warm inside over the possibility.]

I'd be delighted to, you know, every time. We could start every morning with a good brushing, at the very least.

[He hums a little tune as he continues to wash Crowley's hair, unaware of what he just implied, that Crowley spend every night at Aziraphale's so that he can care for that lustrous hair in the morning. After a longer-than-necessary massage, he tilts Crowley's head back again and reaches for the cup.]

Last rinse, dear.