[Crowley knows that look, that tone. His hands drop down to Aziraphale's chest, curling gently around the lapels of his coat, a mirror of the way they'd been standing earlier and something of an anchoring point.]

You'll get there, once we're done with this bloody place, you'll go home and catch up to me. [They'll have to do this all over again, at some point, but Crowley doesn't mind that thought as much as he expected to. That thought gives him an idea for a distraction, to try to pull Aziraphale out of his thoughts.] I was planning to properly court you, you know. Once it was all over. Would've been real romantic.