"I do," says Aziraphale pointedly, frowning not at Crowley, but at the wine. Mostly just as a placeholder for frowning at Crowley. "I like it immensely. Look at me, drinking up all this gloriousness. From the nice, dry boat." To punctuate, he drinks up the rest of the wine. This wine is not to be sipped. And he has a feeling, distantly, that they haven't been drunk together in a while.