There is something really rather charming about the expression present on Crowley's face right now. He looks so out of sorts, but still interested despite whatever thoughts might be populating in his head. Aziraphale thinks about kissing him, thinks about closing the little distance between them, and he nearly does.

Nearly, nearly, nearly.

The only thing that stops him is the fact that he doesn't want the order of events to play out like this. He needs Crowley to pick up where they left off last time before he can act. He has been waiting all of this time and now he needs Crowley to follow through. He needs to be asked. He needs to be asked so that he can say 'yes' and take the next move forward.

Gingerly, he strokes his thumb along the sharp line of Crowley's cheekbone.

"I believe . . . there's a question I have been waiting for you to ask me," he reminds him.