"Freddie Mercury," Crowley says. "That's Queen. It's a classic band, and it's not bebop, so don't---don't even try that."

He can't imagine being the one to make something fly. Without his wings, Crowley can't even making himself fly most days. Seems a bit too heavenly. He's the one who fell---even though he didn't mean to---and before that he was only sort of good at flying. Now, well, now he's got Aziraphale if flying is utterly necessary.

Aziraphale pulls back a little, and Crowley looks up at him. Oh, but he does love Aziraphale. It's impossible not to, and mostly really annoying, especially when he can't do simple things like run away from a fight because of him.