Work Text:
’twas the dawn of times.
The Angel and Demon there, in Eden, feeling ever so fine.
Sitting by the small lake, under the tree, for no one else to see, not that there were many around, but they were careful, hiding from prying eyes.
The touch gentle, barely there.
On the cheek, the neck, back to the lips again, as the finger tracing patterns, familiarising the many planes.
A pause, a moment of doubt.
Another touch, this time bolder, hand behind the neck, drawing the other in.
Lips finding lips, the kiss so soft, alas, nothing soon to be forgot.