Crowley's well aware; it makes it hard to slither up the bed with quite as much grace as he'd have liked. He gets there, though, and even manages to avoid bumping his head against the headboard in his distraction.

The pillows are - had he noticed how downy they were, before falling asleep? They're so comfortable (he sinks back against them with a blissful grin), and he loves the feel of the cotton against his shoulders - cool and comfortably rumpled, and with a most obscenely high threadcount.