It's not bad—the shift in position. A small, or large if he were to be honest, thought that Crowley might try to apply some distance between them if he was getting a little grabby. He knows that he should be much more mindful about it, but right now, he can only feel the urge to keep him close pulsing through his veins.

"Tell me then," he starts, shifting his own face to rub his whiskers gently against Crowley's face. He's close enough for his words to be felt just as clearly as they are heard. "What would you imagine yourself to be?"

He did never answer, after all.