The world stopped and Crowley crumpled. A distant part of his mind was thinking about the last time he'd been injured there and how easily one forgets how much it really hurts. It couldn't have been Aziraphale. For all that he fought dirty, he either didn't know or was too compassionate to aim for such a sensitive area, despite the fact that the angel was well aware that Crowley had never gone for the androgynous look. Maybe he hadn't wanted it damaged for reasons he refused to tell himself...

The greater part of him was howling in pain, whether vocally or internally, he couldn't tell. His focus was exceedingly narrow and nothing else mattered at the moment: kitten, angel, revenge, whatever, he most severely didn't care.