"Much better," he pronounces, crawling up to join Crowley with more-than-usual speed and less-than-usual grace, which means that he nearly succeeds in kicking over a table lamp.

"Where was I," he muses, but he stops moving up before he reaches quite the same position he was in previously. "Here, I believe," and he tucks the fingers of both hands beneath Crowley's waistband and gives his trousers a gentle tug.