Crowley sinks down, leaning his body against Aziraphale, feeling both electrified and spent all at the same time. Crowley is hardly a blushing virgin, but that was unlike anything he's ever experienced and he feels vulnerable, and all too new to it.

He releases one of Aziraphale's hands to reach up and cup the angel's cheek, to touch him softly, carefully. All of this touching, all of this contact. He loves it. He loves Aziraphale, and Aziraphale loves him. And here they are, together.

What the hell do they do next?