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Human traditions we be following
“A spicy branch, you say?”
“No, it’s a mistletoe, Angel.”
“So, what does it mean exactly then, my dear? That it is, as you say, a mistletoe?”
“It means, my sweet Angel, that it’s a tradition which requires interaction with one another. The humans do it all the time.”
“What sort of interaction is required?”
Yeah, Aziraphale was really laying it in thick, pretending not to understand what was happening and what exactly Crowley was meaning. Then again, he was having fun and guess so was the Demon too.
“This kind of interaction, my dear Angel.”
Crowley leaned in while grabbing Aziraphale by the lapels. Drawing his Angel in so very close they were sharing air.
Their lips touching ever so gently at first, so very soft it was, but soon enough, both of them becoming more and more responsive to each other as the interaction moved along.
Finally though, having to let go, for now at least.
“So.” Aziraphale corrected his jacket, his stance. Dusting off the non-existent specs.“That kind of interaction.” He pretended to be taken aback.
“Yes love, a kiss. As it is writ.” Crowley was smiling though, widely so too.
“So, you say it’s tradition then. Something the humans do regularly.”
“I say it is. And at least, they do it during this season, the wintery times. But guess lovers kiss each other more frequently than that.”
“Perhaps, since it is tradition, we should do it again?”
“I’m game if you are, Angel.”
Aziraphale did not wait though, for Crowley to make the move as it was him the one grabbing Crowley, drawing the Demon in for the most heated kiss so far, giving back as good as he had gotten moments ago. Vowing on never letting go ever again.