Crowley sighs a little in acknowledgement at that yes. Yes, yes, yes, this...deliberately he undoes every button, then strokes up Aziraphale's chest, palms his way back down, long caresses that leave no part that's uncovered untouched. After another kiss to Aziraphale's neck he leans back, putting just enough distance between them that he can pull the open nightshirt off completely, reaches with one hand to tug his own over his head with less care.

Then he returns to the embrace and they're skin to skin, warmth to warmth. No feathers or scales here, just their bodies, assumed but still wonderfully part of them. Crowley sighs again and resumes his stroking, hands sliding over shoulders and arms and chest, again and again.