"Oh, well, I'll keep you at arms length," he teased, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to. Crowley didn't bother to avert his gaze, knowing full well she wouldn't either. He wasn't hiding any aspect of himself, knowing she wasn't doing the same for herself. He liked Aphrodite, knowing he could put every aspect of himself on display for her and he'd receive absolutely no judgement. If there had been someone like that before he'd been in Preya, he would have been happier. He would have never sacrificed his life for someone like Dean Winchester. But this was his lot.
Crowley's vessel was simple, the New Yorker wasn't the most athletic and fit of vessels but it had sentimental value to him, and the dragon tattoos that adorned his forearms and chest held deep symbolical meaning to him. He'd had other vessels, an Irish dark haired handsome vessel, dark eyed, dark haired, he'd charmed Lilith back in the day and originally worked the crossroads, before meeting up with Naomi in Mesopotamia, and of course there was the female vessel, the French beauty that held a history of great love and great pain. But the New Yorker was the most dominant vessel, and that was the way it remained.
"All the better now that you're here, my darling," Crowley said sweetly, kissing her back just as tenderly, his hand moving up to cup her cheek and brush lightly through her hair, "Tell me everything that happened and spare no detail. I'm not the candy coated archangel but I can still snap up some party favours if you'd like?" He smiled, twinkling his eyes warmly at her.