Crowley's eyebrow bobbed at the suggestion Aziraphale might have to walk around in nothing but a sheet as it was not the worst suggestion he'd ever heard before. But as much as he had craved that warm affection, being able to bask for a brief moment in the angel's glow, as soon as he had earned the praise he felt the need to escape from it.

If only he were up to something nefarious and not having the equivalent of a demonic existential crisis...

"Don't mention it."

No really, don't. The closet door was left open as he stalked away, first to the washer then to the bath. He wouldn't be returning until he was nice and clean... and hopefully some of his senses would have returned to him by then too.