Crowley moves back from his ministrations on Aziraphale's collar enough to let Aziraphale pull off his shirt. Where Aziraphale is soft curves, Crowley is harsh angles and sharp bones. He's not got an unattractive form, it's one of the reasons he selected it when he picked this body back when Earth was first created. Still, under Aziraphale's gaze, it's enough to make him feel a shot of nervousness down his spine.

He takes a hand and slides it down Aziraphale's torso, from his shoulder down to his hip, just looking at the skin as he touches it, head tilted somewhat as he does. Would there be many nights like this, he wonders? Would they come together like this, now that they knew they loved each other? Or was tonight different and unique? It was certainly special.