"Let's not focus on the negatives," Prometheus said quickly, waving his hand as if to dismiss the topic entirely, "Expecting something to go wrong does affect the crafting process of any spell. So!"

He clapped his hands together and pressed his knee against the edge of the bed. There was a higher chance of success if he was touching the wound but, uh, yeah, he wasn't doing that. So, he awkwardly leaned over Hades's lap, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the bleeding dick. He had a feeling the expression would be... misunderstood.

"Okay, so a bit of this, that and..." Prometheus muttered under his breath, stirring his aether into the correct frequency and fluctuation. Healing something outside of your body always was a little tricky, since you had to adjust your aether to match the subject's, otherwise their aether would fight against you. But, stars, he knew Hades's aether just as well as his own, so it was easily enough to 'hook' his aether into Hades's, scramble a few vital things here and there, a dash of cheekily asking the Lifestream for a bit of juice, and viola!

"Hah!" Prometheus crowed, sitting up with a flourish of his hands, his eyes glittering with a faint glow of sea-green. The air smelled faintly of ozone, and Hades's dick had stopped bleeding, the wound scabbed over, "I'm a genius! It's healed! Er, ish."