Crowley smiles against Aziraphale's gentle kisses. The sheer sweetness of the angel, of his gestures, of his love. Should've expected it, really. Aziraphale is an angel, after all. Sure, he's a bit of a bastard, but he's definitely got too much good in him to be anything but totally gentle and loving in a moment like this. That gives Crowley the responsibility to lead the way into temptation, into the more debauched of the ways to share in romance.

It is a responsibility he takes on gladly.

He moves his hand down as Aziraphale spreads his legs, and presses a finger against Aziraphale's opening. A thought makes it instantly just a little slick, and he gives it a gentle push inside. He moves slow, careful, cautious, taking in Aziraphale's every response before moving forward.