[There's a hum from Crowley, still with that edge of amusement as he starts down the stairs, idly considering the cuffs as he goes.]

Something about pretty things. What's next, lingerie?

[He's trying very hard not to let this fluster him at all, and apparently turning it back on Martin is the way to do it.

By the time he's in the kitchen, his sleeves are pushed up and the set of cuffs he'd been holding are secured around his wrists. He holds them up for inspection.]

I'm not against florals in the right circumstances, what do you think? Suits me?

[This definitely has not backfired slightly on him already.]