"Not stepping over the bounds of modesty," Crowley says, leaning back to preen under Aziraphale's gaze, just for a moment. He's always rather liked his own form. So lanky and interesting, easily made male or female depending on his whim or whatever he needed at the time. He settled into the male form as preference some time back, just because it meant his trousers always had pockets. It's nice to see Aziraphale approves. Crowley certainly approves of the angel, though he doesn't approve of the fact that he still has any clothing on whatsoever.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to the angel's sternum, and then a little lower, just above his stomach as he lowers the angel's pants down, undressing them both.