[Crowley's honest statement is oddly comforting, even if it's merely admitting that he's as lost as Aziraphale is. He smiles softly and takes another sip of wine.]

Well, that makes two of us, then. I... I know we had a lot to drink last night, and I don't entirely remember the circumstances around signing your undergarments, but...

[He tries his best to keep his eyes focused on Crowley's sunglasses, as little as they tell him.]

It's the sentiment behind it. I-if I were to have you sign mine. That we... you know. Belonged to one another. Especially after everything we've been through together.