Hades glanced down at Prometheus. Even from this angle he could tell what he was doing and toyed with both options. If he let him come with his cock in his mouth, well that would just be hot, wouldn’t it? It would be over quickly... but they still had the test to think about.

He cursed himself. He really knew how to get distracted while he was trying to enjoy something, didn’t he? He pushed thoughts of academia, his career, his boyfriend’s very troubled career... all aside. If he kept up with this, he’d end up limp in Prometheus’ mouth. Which had happened too much for his liking lately already.

And now he was down a different mental rabbit hole. He felt himself flag somewhat.

Back then, Hades hadn’t known what to expect. He had certainly had expectations, but they had been of something else: a fierce environmentalist, a man with righteous fury, a rogue academic. Not... some drunk slut.

The officer told him that he’d best intended to take him right home and let him sober up. Honestly, Hades had imagined taking him out for a drink. Christ, what had he gotten himself into. He sighed, pulled a card from a dedicated metal case, and handed it to him. “...Devil, hm? You can call me Hades. You’re not to be alone until you’re sober, so I suppose you’re coming with me.”