Honestly though, imagine being the angel who Fell for asking questions. You were just curious, you wanted to know more, and depending on how literally we take 'I just asked questions' either you eventually got fed up with being brushed off and turned to Lucifer for answers, or you straight up pissed the other angels off enough that they kicked you out of Heaven.
Either way, you then end up in Hell, which to me at least doesn't look like the kind of open and nurturing workplace environment that would welcome the questions of a curious demon. Certainly the likes of Hastur and Ligur openly discourage innovation, preferring traditional 'craftsmanship', which doesn't speak well for their acceptance of curiousity.
And then you get assigned to Eden, do the whole apple thing (aka the thing where you have to cause someone to fall from grace through their natural curiousity by tempting them with knowledge— and yeah, God's really rubbing it in by this point) and end up making smalltalk with an angel while watching the two humans walk off across the desert.
And you notice that the angel's flaming sword is missing and you decide to ask about it. "Didn't you used to have a flaming sword?" Because you're the one who asks questions, you can't help it. "What, lost it already have you?"
And. He. Fucking. Answers. You.
Like seriously, imagine that. Chances are last time you asked an angel anything you ended up being catapulted into a pit full of burning sulphur, now this one's openly telling you that he gave away his flaming sword.
And this is not something he should be telling you. Aziraphale will later lie to God about this, and even if we're assuming that he was counting on his word being taken over a demon's should it ever get back to Heaven, he's still announcing to a member of the Other Side that he's currently unarmed.
But no, Crowley asked and Aziraphale answered, and that's a pattern that ends up being repeated.
When they meet up again, a thousand years later, Crowley asks about the sword again, and Aziraphale not only answers but goes on to answer even more questions about the Flood. Like, this is basically treason now. If Crowley actually wanted to interfere with Aziraphale's business then this would be brilliant for him, because the angel is perfectly fine with spilling the beans about the entire divine plan.
Again, at Golgotha, "come to gloat, have you?", a rhetorical question that Aziraphale nonetheless answers. And answers by admitting that he's "not consulted on policy", openly implying that he disapproves of this. Crowley even gets to ask more questions: "what did he say that got everyone so upset?"
In the book Aziraphale takes the time to answer Crowley's questions in the middle ages about how exactly humans get to Heaven or Hell (and how the class system factors into this).
In the series, he gets him to admit to travelling across the channel dressed as an aristocrat during the French revolution because he wanted some crepes.
On the way back from the nunnery— book again— Crowley even gets him to tell him which world leaders are working for Heaven. (I cannot stress enough how easy it would be for Crowley if he actually wanted to work against Aziraphale.)
It gets to the stage where their break up in episode three is triggered by Aziraphale's decision to stop answering Crowley's questions. First he avoids them— "have you got the antichrist's name, address and shoe size yet?" "Shoe size? Why would I have his shoe size?"— and then he openly states that he won't tell Crowley where the antichrist is, because they're on opposite sides.
And then when they make up again Aziraphale answers his question, by telling him where the antichrist is.
Crowley is the angel who Fell for asking questions, and Aziraphale is the angel who regularly risks Falling to answer them, and this is why they are perfect for each other.