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Azrael grinned, feeling way better now that his job was over, in fact he was even a little 'playful', quite possibly. When his hand was swatted away, Azrael scowled at his friend and crawled onto the bed, his hands going towards Dritz's hips and sides, dragging his nails there in an attempt to tickle him, or just wake him up.
"Oh come on, I'm alive you idiot, you should be celebrating." Azrael said, clearly too amused to be serious.
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"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
~Ernest Gaines
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