Crowley likely didn't even remember when it had started. It just became a thing. And from there it devolved into a habit. Really, he had no clue it touched the angel the way it did. It was just a matter of fact: Aziraphale was special, so there were few if any pretences left that he upheld around him.

"It just so happens that I've a little brilliant plan for ensuring we adhere to that little order." Not that they really needed any sortof plan for it. They'd been doing just fine behaving in the last six months, but he felt like he needed a sales pitch if he was going to convince Aziraphale.

Crowley plucked one of the strawberries from the bowl, but didn't eat it yet. He used it to gesture absentmindedly as he spoke. "Hear me out before you turn me down," he began. "We go on holiday. I was thinking tropical, but I'd be willing to settle for wherever you're comfort niche would be--here does not count. It would keep us out of trouble and off the radar while spending quality time together that we never afforded ourselves when we were being hounded by our respective bosses."

There might just be a hopeful looking those serpent's eyes of his. You wouldn't want to crush that hope, would you, Angel?