He kept licking and kissing, moving gently, still buried deep inside Nihilism, seemingly incapable of getting off. Gluttony lived in moods, shifting from one to the next quickly and abruptly. Where at first he was lewd, and then during their fuck he had been violent, now he was nothing short of a pushy, nuzzling kitten vying for touch and contact.
"Mmm," he mumbled at Nils' request, resting fully against him and pleased by the other's endearing words. Pride would have liked this kid, he knew. But for now he was focused intently on the other, giving the younger God his full attention, every light nibble and slow caress. His palm glided up along the other's side, insistently soothing, as if to silently apologize for the rough treatment earlier. (He wasn't, though. It was merely natural for him to curl up near to a lover after an incredible orgasm and indulge in the sight and taste of their skin once again.)
"Take your time," he mumbled smugly, then bent down and kissed Nils. When he pulled back again, he couldn't help but smirk. "Sorry about the bedsheets," he stated, but the tone of his voice indicated he wasn't sorry at all.