[Crowley's smirk fades into a groan accompanied by an eyeroll.]
I meant out of your clothes, you lech. The ones our favourite scourge of the world coloured on, remember?
[But he lets Aziraphale pull his shirt over his head, shimmering out of it to reveal a lean chest lightly dusted with freckles. As soon as it's off, however, he reaches for Aziraphale's buttons.]
Ohhhh yes. "It's free love!" "It's hedonism!" "Great, we both win. Let's do Woodstock."
I meant out of your clothes, you lech. The ones our favourite scourge of the world coloured on, remember?
[But he lets Aziraphale pull his shirt over his head, shimmering out of it to reveal a lean chest lightly dusted with freckles. As soon as it's off, however, he reaches for Aziraphale's buttons.]