There wouldn't be judgement from me if you did, Crowley. People like what they like. But I don't get any pleasure from giving or receiving pain, either. There's a lot I -- that we haven't explored yet, together, but I already know that much.

[It feels a bit strange to say such things aloud for Aziraphale, too, but only because he's never had reason to share such thoughts before.

A bit of ribbon -- black -- appears in his hand and he uses it to tie off the end of the braid with a little flourish.]

I think I understand what you mean, though. It's the same when you nibble my skin, or I bare my throat to you. I know you'd never take advantage.

[He runs a finger along the braid, admiring his handiwork, before tugging it with the precise amount of pressure that Crowley likes. With his head now tilted back, it's easy for the angel to steal a kiss.]

There, all done. Would you like a mirror, or do you trust me when I say you're an absolute vision?