Crowley is a little reluctant for either of them to just wave away the evidence, this first time. But it is rather a mess. So he nods.

Once they're free if all the stickiness, he's quick to pull Aziraphale back down into his embrace, roll them back over so he can be on top, his slighter weight pinning the angel to the mattress as Crowley attempts to kiss him breathless. "That was--" Another kiss. "Perfect. You're perfect. Fuck, I love you." And another, and another. "Can't believe I get to say that now. Can't believe I get to do this. If this is a dream, angel, don't wake me up, 'kay? Don't wanna wake up." And more kisses. He'll never have enough of them, not if they're in this bed for another thousand years.