He pats the angel's hand gently before slipping his arm firmly around Aziraphale's waist. "They're not going anywhere yet, angel. Party's not gone on long enough yet for that." Miracling away a queue like that - at a wedding, of all things - would be terribly rude, even by demon standards.

Crowley hums his approval at being given free reign over the dessert table. Hmm, what shall they start with? The demon pauses them in front of platters covered with assorted fruit tarts and carefully plucks up one filled with apples. "Let's start here, and then try those cakes you've got your eye on," he offers. Seems the best of both worlds to him.

He takes a small nibble from the hand-sized tart, exhaling a content sigh as he savors the bite. More savory than sweet and with just the right amount of spices to compliment the flaky crust. "Try this," he says, holding the tart out for Aziraphale. Yes, they are most definitely to the point of the relationship where they feed each other in public. "You'll love it."