Aziraphale gave him a Look which he hoped conveyed his amused annoyance: yes, I'm sure you drew such lovely little phalluses my dear, but now is not the time or place.

He had won, he knew he had, but that grumble was Aziraphale's victory fanfare. He gave Anthony another chaste kiss just for indulging him. Then, reassured the apron would fit, and that he hadn't rumpled Anthony too much (a little straightening of his collar helped), he draped the apron over his arm.

"I think we can manage that. Here, allow me," he added, offering help with the jacket.