The angel pulls in his breath in a gasp, arching his shoulders and holding Crowley tighter, closer. For all that this is, he's still somewhat reserved in his movements, his sounds, biting his lip, shaking with the effort of trying to keep mostly still. But his mind moves differently, reaching and pulling and swimming, almost dancing, almost music, taking in all the emotions and wordless thoughts Crowley can give him.

A quiet, needy sound, and he pulls on him. Opens his eyes just barely, meeting Crowley's, beckoning him.