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When Adamas kisses him, Beelzebub expects it to be rough. Biting. Full of teeth and a lingering metallic aftertaste. What the former God of Conquest gives him instead, is a timid little graze of lips that’s over far too soon.
When Adamas pulls away, he doesn’t meet Beelzebub’s eyes. Instead, his gaze stays planted on the ground below as a red blush overtakes his face.
Beelzebub snorts. For all of his brashness, it seems that Adamas is shy when it comes to romance.
The brief contact doesn’t satisfy him, and Beelzebub wants more.
So he takes it.
He cups Adamas’ face, forcing the god to look at him before bringing their lips together once more. It’s longer this time. More intimate. Unlike the timid peck from before, Beelzebub devours Adamas’ affections like a starving man.
Satan had forced him to keep everyone at arm's length for eons, and now that his curse was gone, Beelzebub was determined not to let this small bit of happiness slip through his fingers.
He presses his body against Adamas’ own, curving against the metal plating as his arms reach up to loop around his neck.
Adamas tastes...sweeter than Beelzebub thought he would. Like fruits. But there’s the slightest bitter twinge, too. Beelzebub smirks against the other god’s lips. Did Adamas have to resort to liquid courage to do this?
He makes a small sound in the back of his throat when he feels hands on his hips. Beelzebub tilts his head, giving Adamas more access and deepening the kiss. Their bodies are warmth and cold, coming together in an intoxicating combination that lights Beelzebub’s senses on fire.
He wants to stay that way. To continue being close to Adamas. But eventually, Beelzebub has to force himself to pull away. Because as much as he needs Adamas, he also needs to breathe.
He pulls away with a gasp, panting in the aftermath of their kiss. Beelzebub can feel his face warm as he stares into golden eyes.
Adamas is more or less in the same state. The gaudy purple lipstick he usually wears is smeared out of place. When Beelzebub licks his own lips, Adamas’ unique taste stands out among the wax remnants.
For a moment, neither of them speak.
“I-“ Adamas tries to fill the silence, but doesn’t make it far before his thought fizzles out. He tries once more with similar results. Eventually, he gives up on words altogether.
Beelzebub has gotten his point across. Adamas comes in for another kiss.