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Summary
Crowley didn’t usually give much thought to his body. It was a glorified meat vessel at the end of the day, something to schlep his big head and demon-y essence from place to place. Whatever external stimuli his corporation happened to be subjected to was none of his business or bother.
When Aziraphale touched him, he was bothered.
[Crowley and Aziraphale discover that keeping their clothes on might just be better than taking them off.]
