What a mess, what a mess. But they know messes, they know scrambling to make sense of something, but at least this time the motivators are quite positive and pleasant.

He huffs and tries not to break their kisses as he pulls his hands back tries to squirm out of his coat, causing it to fall at their feet. But in proper Aziraphale fashion, his wonderful, old, well beloved coat falling to the floor, discarded haphazardly causes him to stop and glance down at it, with the urge to pick it up, dust it off, and properly put it away. But he looks up at Crowley again and, oh, he can't just stop this.

Be a dear and fix that for him, won't you?