Crowley smiles as the man before him excitedly points out his special someone, reminding him a bit of his own.

"Anthony Crowley," he nods, then, unable to help himself, points out another person across the room who until recently had been bound to his own set of several thousand rules, "My straight-laced one's over there."

It's fairly clear this is still a honeymoon phase by the way he smiles so fondly when he talks about him, but that's nobody's business but his own.