Belial ran his fingernail through his eyebrow, catching out the specks of glitter deftly.

"I hardly think I have a way with angels. More, they have a way with me. I'm not particularly cut out for this demon thing, I think." He waggled his spoon at Aziraphale, punctuating his sentences.

"I suppose you have a point with the ice cream," he said, tapping the rim of his own tub. "I hate all this business between demons and angels. Good and evil. No one's allowed to be even the slightest shade of grey." A swallow, hard. "Don't understand why humans are allowed to love, but I was condemned for it."

He inhaled sharply at Aziraphale's question, turning his eyes down. "You should know, really," he whispered. "Gabriel is so very beautiful."