Hades continued his left-handed ministrations as he began to brace himself against Prometheus' large head with the right. He began his slow, rhythmic thrusting against his tongue, his own breath catching as he hardened fully. He spread and lifted his leg to give him enough space. He was too confident in his mending abilities to be too put off by all the teeth. It would just be a momentary inconvenience.

Hades began to enlarge the phantom hand on Prometheus' cock, the purple aether swirling until it grew more solid. A bystander would be absolutely baffled by what exactly might be going on. Unless that bystander was Elidibus, and then he would just be irritated.

He squeezed the leathery horn, deciding to be cheeky and press the flat of his tongue against it, then curling the tip up to drag against it. He'd said they were sensitive, hadn't he? He pressed his mouth against the horn fully again, doing the sort of things he might with a cock to inspire him.