"He's not forbidding much these days," Gabriel quipped without missing a beat, and trailed after the other angel with his hands in his pockets. Anyone looking would've been struck by the contrast--Aziraphale, upright and proper, and Gabriel, not slumped but casual and ambling.

He watched the streets, slotting them into his mental map with an equally mental grumble. "Soooo apparently you're a drinker."

It was a prod and a question and an amusement all at once. Not many angels espoused not getting drunk as 'missing out on things'.