As much as Aziraphale loves kissing Crowley, he does have a sense of propriety when they're out in public. He doubts that the other guests would appreciate a pair of man-shaped beings enthusiastically snogging by the buffet table. (If anything, they'd be blocking the stack of honey cakes.)

Not that he doesn't occasionally push a boundary or two. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm feeling dangerous," he purrs, sotto voce, before placing a delicate kiss on the blush of Crowley's cheek. After several centuries of Crowley making him blush, turnabout is truly the most delicious thing on the menu.

He could stare at that lovely look on his beloved's face all day, but Crowley is right, there are other delicacies to sample. "How about the petit fours? Much more manageable than the honey cakes."