Crowley had been entertaining himself with ideas of just what he was going to do to his lover that night, as he busied himself with various things in the club above their residence; the patrons themselves were providing plenty inspiration, and he was half-tempted to stay and party with a few of them, let the Angel sweat things out a little longer.
Still, the vague notion of what he saw when the Angel reached for him was enough to pique his interest, and he slithered (really, there was no better word for the slightly-awkward walk the demon made, when inebriated and highly aroused) down to the room, stopping at the door for just a second to brace himself, before pushing inside.
The sight had him swallowing reflexively (damn, the Angel was good when he was trying to be bad). He recovered quickly, though, not wanting the Angel too smug in himself, too soon. That could come later- and so could Zira, if he was lucky.
"Would you look at that, dearest... all laid out for me." He slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Moving up to the side of the bed, a hand reached down to fondle the leather straps at his chest, sighing contently. "And you wonder why I frustrate you so... it makes for such a gorgeous picture..." His hand drifted down, dangerously close to the metal-encased cock, before starting back up along the other side.