The hairs on the back of his neck stand up when Crowley moans, and it prompts Aziraphale to kiss him deeper. Though, angelic as he is, that just means that he licks at the seam of Crowley's lips, barely delving into his mouth.

He hooks a hand around the back of Crowley's neck and cards it into his hair, shifts a little bit closer to him so that they're almost just up against each other.

Aziraphale finds that Crowley tastes sweet like wine with just the darkest undercurrent of spice, and he could easily drink from his lips the rest of the night.