Crowley doesn't want to let go, not if he can help it, but unfortunately he has to for a moment. He kicks his shoes under the bed and clambers up onto it, moves further up instead of sitting on the edge and props himself against the headboard.

"Grab yourself a book, then," he encourages softly, and pulls his legs up toward himself. It'll be more comfortable for Aziraphale to read like this, sat up properly, and Crowley doesn't have the energy to be delicate right now. He just wants to tuck up against his side and relax for a while, for as long as he's allowed to indulge. Maybe even read the book alongside Aziraphale, if it seems interesting.