Smoothing his hand up the front of Emet-Selch's shirt, he returns the kiss with a sigh. How nice it is that they can simply enjoy each other whenever the fancy takes them. He moves his free hand to his own buttons, undoing them slowly, as his other hand traces fingers over his love's stomach.

And when the kiss breaks, he's quick to shrug off his shirt, dumping it off to the side. "Perhaps you should move your work, lest it become a crumpled mess." Not that Hades couldn't simply fix it, of course. But if he wanted to save himself the trouble...