Maybe worse, yes. But certainly not something that John was new to. He'd damned plenty of people for a lot of reasons. At least this one might end up being fun.
Then again, Duma was already in charge of Hell back home anyway -- so what really would the difference be?
He grinned when Duma stole his smoke and glanced over at that stupid little phone. The angel really needed to change up the voice on that thing. "It can be for before too. Or during. Really depends how much of a challenge you wanna make it." Constantine took his smoking habit rather seriously.
He took the thing back anyway, let it hang low and out of the way when he moved closer to Duma, free hand coming up to trace at his pronounced cheekbone and jaw. "This," he said, smooth and silky, "isn't about who gets to it first, or how much tongue you jam down someone's throat. Not initially anyway." And then to prove his point, he kissed the angel -- no pushing involved, only a constant even pressure of his (somewhat dry) lips until he could get the angel to open up for him somewhat.