[ Crowley's teasing gentles as the demon seeks out Aziraphale's hand once more, closing his fingers around it. He also thought he'd be bothered by the mess - he certainly wasn't fond of such things. Tolerant, perhaps, but one either learns that kind of tolerance in Hell or goes mad. But no, Crowley is quite keen to get his mouth and tongue in all the moist and sticky parts of Aziraphale's corporation once again - maybe after they've had a bit of a lie-in. Maybe breakfast. Apparently, he's perfectly fine with bodily fluids if they taste of his beloved.

That was something he should probably unpack later. Much, much later. ]

Well, I'd be happy to put you through the pleasure again. Any time you like.

[ He nuzzles into his cheek, and despite his persistent erection (what is the opposite of erectile dysfunction, he wonders) Crowley is feeling soft around the edges, like there's a sort of grey area between where he ends and Aziraphale begins.

It could be the haziness of sleep creeping up on him, but it feels more important than that, and he's not particularly tired. ]

Oh, angel - I do wonder at the possibilities now.