His back was only against the wall for a second, before he surged forward, spinning them around to reverse their positions. Hands tore and fabric, pulling and ripping, needing the physical exertion of removing the clothes, to expend some of the energy; he didn't want to harm his Love, when it came down to it. He couldn't lose him, too.
Despite the worry, the sheer level of emotion had him slamming Zeke against the wall, pulling his leg up roughly and lining himself up, thrusting into the other demon without thinking of the pain the harsh action would cause. He needed the connection, the grounding that the uncomfortable joining would offer him.