[ Crowley is awed, watching Aziraphale roll his hips leaves him with that strange hunger. Still, he'd save the angel cake for dessert. There was still the main course to tackle. ]

No need, not when I can make you do that. Though...

[ Burying his fingers in the downy coverts, Crowley leans forward and murmurs into Aziraphale's ear. ]

...We just might have to explore that in greater detail later.

[ He flicks his tongue against the lobe of Aziraphale's ear and, dizzy with love and pride, he gets to work in earnest in sorting out those feathers, just as careful and meticulous as he was before. ]