'You could've told me, you know, if this was some kind of thing of yours,' Crowley remarks as he slowly, soooo slowly draws his tail tighter around Aziraphale, now definitely touching.

Given the sex-and-sex drive-less-ness of angels, it's a matter of some debate whether either of them can technically be said to have things at all, but, well. Over the course of 6,000 years, they've both gone native in a variety of ways. Crowley can't actually remember which one of them it was who first suggested making the Effort for this sort of thing.

'Not that I object.' He grins evilly. 'It's always the stuffy, priggish ones, isn't it? All that repression.'