[ Crowley doesn't miss the implication. He is nothing short of delighted by it as he tilts his head back, gazing adoringly up at Aziraphale.

Maybe they're still struggling with being direct, and maybe they would for a long time coming. Six thousand years is a long time for habits to get ingrained, but he wants Aziraphale to know he's seen. ]

Every morning, eh? I like the sound of that.

[ His fingers had returned to trailing up and down Aziraphale's thigh. ]

I'll bring my toiletries over then? ...Maybe a few other things from the flat too...?

[ Give him an inch... ]