Well, nature of the beast indeed. A kind beast. A good one. The best of them all, and Aziraphale learned that a long time ago, against all odds. Against all warnings. And, for all his flaws and missteps, he's still so glad he at least saw that. He wouldn't have survived otherwise.

There's a quiet faint sound in the kiss, but not a protest. He doesn't object to being pulled in, it is just, as stated, new. A little bit overwhelming. He brings a hand up to Crowley's arm, then up to his shoulder, while the other stays on his cheek. Soft, gentle hands, polite, but not hesitant.

All of existance is so vast. A concept not meant to be grasped, but a concept he's familiar with all the same. But, right now, it seems laser focused on this moment, and he's never felt so safe.