Crowley makes a disappointed noise when Aziraphale moves out of close reach, even if it's temporary, even if they're walking upstairs to his bedroom, an idea his mind is barely able to wrap itself around. So much time waiting, and wondering, and being more than half-convinced what's happening now was never, ever going to be a possibility, much less a reality...
Crowley's more than a little dazed, and the fact that he and Aziraphale have been rolling on the ground snogging each other senseless is only part of why.
He perks up a little upon seeing the room, though, natural curiosity coming into play. Looks unused, and unused by the sort of mind that thinks every available flat surface is a bookshelf. Crowley finds it amusing. He usually hates clutter--Hell was cluttered, crowded, dirty and dark and no space to breathe anywhere--but Aziraphale's clutter feels...well. Homey. Comfortable.
...bless it, he really is smitten. The way his heart flutters when Aziraphale sits on the bed and pats it for him to sit just confirms it, as though the question were in any doubt whatsoever. "You're in it, angel," Crowley says, smiling and taking Aziraphale's hand. "S'already the best bed ever."
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Crowley's more than a little dazed, and the fact that he and Aziraphale have been rolling on the ground snogging each other senseless is only part of why.
He perks up a little upon seeing the room, though, natural curiosity coming into play. Looks unused, and unused by the sort of mind that thinks every available flat surface is a bookshelf. Crowley finds it amusing. He usually hates clutter--Hell was cluttered, crowded, dirty and dark and no space to breathe anywhere--but Aziraphale's clutter feels...well. Homey. Comfortable.
...bless it, he really is smitten. The way his heart flutters when Aziraphale sits on the bed and pats it for him to sit just confirms it, as though the question were in any doubt whatsoever. "You're in it, angel," Crowley says, smiling and taking Aziraphale's hand. "S'already the best bed ever."