Aziraphale asks Crowley to look at him because he can see, plain as anything, all the things where no one else gets the privilege: he beholds vulnerability, desire, and a love more infinite than all the stars in the sky. He doesn't wonder anymore how he had ever doubted, or how Crowley had ever sought to hide this from him, seeking instead just to look at him and regard him in the awe he reserves for all natural phenomenons.

And though he has only been treated to the sight of Crowley finishing only twice before, he welcomes it with his arms and his hips like an old friend. He is struck silent with how beautiful Crowley is in this moment, his body and face overcome by orgasm, and does all he can to extend this and eke out every last drop of pleasure from him.

It barely takes Crowley's plea for the telltale wave that surges through Aziraphale and floods him with release. He comes with the latter half of Crowley's name breathlessly caught on his tongue, eyes shuttered spilling hot over his stomach and leaving wet spots all over his shirt. It's strong and seems to him both endless and that it's over far too soon as thoughts start to form again and he's made to be cognizant of how loud and ragged his breathing is.

Soul settling in return to his body, he reaches for the back of Crowley's neck and pulls him forward to rest their foreheads together. After a long moment, he huffs out a laugh and in a deep voice he confesses, "I feel as if I should be thanking you again for that."