Hades needed no further invitation. Prometheus opened a bit, and Hades moved in boldly. He hit upon the cracks, smoothing himself over him entirely, pressing himself into the crevices like glaze over a cake.

Now that the movements were lazy, Hades found himself moving in tandem. He put his hands on Prometheus’ back, gripping him closer. Oh, and he was hitting all the perfect spots, making electricity shoot up his spine and down his legs. He noted, idly, that he hadn’t bothered to morph out his prostate, so he was having quite a lot of enjoyment.

“Oh, that’s good,” he crooned into his ear. Having this set of genitals was entirely new to him, of course. Should he be doing something with it? He tried, but fluff himself just tightening involuntarily.