Aziraphale felt a little guilty at that - he had brought plenty of wine with him from Soho and it really seemed unfair that he should abuse Belial's hospitality as such. He did a mental inventory of what he had brought with him and smiled cheerfully.

"Actually Mr. Belial, now I propose a trade - I have a 1792 Blandy's Madeira upstairs that I would be happy to give to you in exchange for vintage port, if you have any, now. Or, really, any wine that would go well with the mousse."

It would be trading down in terms of wines, he knew, and he had been saving the bottle for a special occasion, but really, those had been few and far between for awhile now, and Belial was already doing so much for him, it seemed like a fair trade in the end. Besides, Aziraphale really needed some alcohol in him at the moment.

The angel sighed and frowned at the thought. Crowley would likely be too paranoid to get drunk for awhile yet. In fact, the poor thing was more worried about Aziraphale's theoretical impending doom than Aziraphale was, maybe he should go back upstairs and check on him, maybe comfort him a bit? But Crowley was taking a nap and there was chocolate mousse down here and...

Aziraphale stared at Belial's hands resting on the beer taps as he internally debated.