[Aziraphale's wings twitch from the gentle aftershocks of Crowley's soothing touch, the contented rumble in his chest suspiciously like a purr. His earlier anxieties of having their souls touch is but a faded memory. How could anything that feels this right pose a threat to either of them? It's only a matter of easing into it at this point.

He laughs softly when Crowley's words echo his thoughts, miracle-ing away the mess between them with a lazy wave of his hand.]

Would you call it cliché if I say that I think it's because of our love for one another?

[He returns the kiss, his hands wandering over Crowley's wings without any intention other than to feel the soft feathers under his fingers. The look Crowley gives him, paired with the compliment, make him blush and smile like the demon has hung the moon and stars just for him.]

Only because you deserve it, darling.

[His hands return to Crowley's hair.]

Shall I braid your hair? Surely it's dry enough by now.