The boat yaws as Aziraphale inches his careful way into Crowley's lap-- but only a little, and Crowley's attention stays on the angel, expression hovering somewhere between amusement and arousal and curiosity. For an entity of divine grace, Aziraphale moves with absolutely no grace at all.

The quick little peck of a kiss is equally graceless, and Crowley grins a liquid grin up at him. 'Oh, go on,' he goads, drawing his tail up behind Aziraphale, the thick trunk of it braced behind him like the back of a chair while the rest loops around to brush over Aziraphale's stomach. 'You can do better than that, I know this for a fact.'

Curling a hand around the back of Aziraphale's neck, he pulls him down into a proper kiss, lewd and deep without any preamble. For his part, Crowley's always rather liked kissing; it's when you get into sex proper that things have the potential to get a little weird, but kissing, kissing is a snap. They've never snogged in a boat before, but Crowley knows the best angle to keep noses from knocking. He exhales a satisfied little hum into Aziraphale's mouth, drawing his tongue out and sucking hard on it for a moment in frankly blatant suggestion.

Though neither of them needs to break for breath, Crowley pulls away after a moment anyway, forked tongue flickering in appreciation. 'That'ssss more like it.'