"Mm, yes please," Prometheus murmured, nuzzling into Hades's hand, "The glamour's feeling a bit... tight."

He wanted to stretch out and laze about to digest his meal - the leftovers still politely waiting in the corner for him to return to once he got hungry again - and maybe curl around Hades. It was probably because of the pregnancy, but since his week long heat, he found himself becoming increasingly tactile, wanting to curl up, or snuggle with, or just touch Hades more and more.