Aziraphale scoffs, but it's only for show. "So long as you don't expect me to sing... ah..." It's hard to name a musical group in Crowley's preferred genre when he barely knows any of the names. "...Velvet Underground!"

He smiles triumphantly, pleased to have come up with a 'bebop' group on the fly... and then Crowley kisses him. On the forehead, but it stuns him to silence, anyway. He looks up at Crowley with big eyes before dropping his gaze and smiling shyly, nudging his shoulder into Crowley's. "Thought you wanted to wait until we were somewhere more private."

Not that he's complaining. That kiss to his forehead caused more of a stir within him than all those Gavotte kisses ever did.