"Do what?" Ordinarily he'd ask the question as part of some coy little facade, a playful way to go fishing for what he wanted. Not so much the case now; Divorce responded thoughtlessly, reflexively, not bothering to look for an angle. He was too distracted to even think of it, too caught up in trying to memorize every detail about the woman in front of him. She was almost overwhelming. Desmond looked at Lust and found himself at odds, centuries' worth of bad behavior broken down and washed away with but a touch. It was a touch which shook him, her perfect hands skimming over his shirt, his jaw, as though none of this had ever happened before.
When she went on and sang his own praises, he understood. The words were kind. They meant the world to him. And despite them, he went from that strange mix of comfort and adrenaline contact with her sent rocketing through him, to... to what, exactly? A kind of startlement, a tension that stiffened his body and furrowed his brow until he looked worried. He wanted what she'd said to be true, more than he'd ever wanted anything before. But they were both masters at this little game, weren't they?
"I'm sorry," Desmond said abruptly. He plucked Lust's glass out of her hand, performing a quick about-face to stalk back down the hall and into the living room. Depositing their drinks down on the nearest available surface, he tried his damnedest to fight unfamiliar nerves. A few deep breaths and the New God was walking back from whence he came, faster than he wanted, slower than he could bear and utterly convinced that they'd both be able to hear his heart pounding loud enough to beat the band.
Divorce stopped dead in front of her. "I'm sorry," he said again, back at his normal speed and in Lust's personal space before he could let himself think too hard. "I get it." He stood close enough to feel the heat radiating off of the Sin, laid his hands on her shoulders gently, as though she might break. "I want you." There was a reason Desmond moved erratically, talked fast, refused to think hard. This was why. "I need you." Pressing a feather-light kiss to Lust's temple, he pulled away only to cup her face in his hands and look at her with a sincerity no one else had ever been allowed to see.
"Let me show you." A moment, an open struggle he didn't bother to hide while Desmond looked for the right words. "Please." And then he dipped his head and kissed her, putting the force of what he was feeling into his lips to hers.