The bed is indeed huge, not entirely because they loved indulgence but also for plain physical comfort. Beelzebub would be able to lay in this one with comfortably half opened wings and not have them twist as they spilled over the side.

He takes to sitting on the bed to remove his boots, fumbling a little because of the drinking. Though mostly because his gaze is admiring Galahad as he starts to undress and he isn't paying attention to what he is doing. He manages boots and shrugs off his sword harness and hangs them on the post of the bed.

"It's good when we're having light but it's not always." He stays sitting on the edge of the bed and pours Galahad a small glass of wine just in case he wants one before returning to drinking from the bottle.

"Your family." The angel corrects with a slur.