'Angel,' Crowley groans at the terrible pun, and gives him a sharp little flick with the tip of his tail.

The delicate touch at his stomach, though, makes him twitch. The sensitive skin under his navel, where ordinarily a sharp vee of muscle would lead down to his cock, now there's only the gradual transition from soft, warm human skin to sleek dry scales. It's weird, inhabiting this form-between-forms; the signals are all getting a bit mixed.

He coughs, one hand going out of habit to rub at the back of his neck. Body-shame is a human thing that Crowley has never gone in for, so it's not that, it's just-- it feels oddly intimate, he supposes, in an awkward sort of way, even though the snake is no more his true form than the human body he usually wears is. 'It's, um, sort of two-pronged?' he offers eventually, his tail still shifting, constant motion more distracted than purposeful now. 'And they're a bit... spiney-looking. Or feathery, I suppose. But, you know, fleshy.'

Bless it, he's blushing. That won't do, and he tightens himself a little further around Aziraphale, tail-tip going to stroke up the angel's neck. 'D'you want to ssssee?' He does his best to sound wicked and tempting rather than awkward.