devotion.

     He has no need to breathe and yet a panted one escapes his lips. His mouth is bloody, chin coated with the thick liquid that acts as the ichor in his veins. The taste is metallic, like the rest of him, and his red gaze peeks open, stares hard at the demon holding him. Nostrils flare for a moment, a mockery as the machine catches fake breath and his gloved fingers dig hard against Belial’s biceps. The pressure makes a wheezed sound escape Eve, sharp teeth grinding against each other and cutting his lip further as he attempts to snap at the primal.

     Sadly, it gets him nowhere but the fallen moving away and the machine notes the closeness. The hands on his waist, and the way Belial’s voice sounds like music.

     It takes him a moment to gather himself, claws dragging hard down the primal’s arms. Almost as if he were attempting to pull him closer, to keep their bodies flush against one another. The praise only fuels him further, red eyes widening for a split second before narrowing once more. A gurgled sound is made from the machine at the viscous fluid in his mouth and throat, lips pulling in a frown that he can’t quite voice what he wants, what exactly the demon can do for him. What can he do? It’s something that the machine thinks on, knowing well what they’ve done before.

     What the fallen has shown him.

     It makes his core flutter at the thought and the current situation. At the way Belial is rendering him and it’s still such a new sensation. To be broken asunder, to dish out the same kind of pain unto the man before him and be praised for the durability he holds and the damage he can do. It makes the humming of his body become louder, the already present heat rising further and Eve thinks he knows what he wants.

     He pushes the blood from his throat into his cheeks, holds it back before spitting it in the demon’s face. A laugh escapes him, a breathy noise before his hands leave the primal’s arms and reach up, cupping the sides of now bloody face. Claws grab against Belial’s jaw, yanks him close as Eve bares his teeth, a low hiss escaping him while his lips pull in a grotesque smile.

     It’s a small gesture, gentle and sweet and Eve cannot help the way his lips curl. He smiles, genuine and giggles like a child at the affection the android gives to him. It’s just a small kiss, to his palm no less, but still it makes his core flutter, the hum of his body growing louder. His fingers curl just a bit, to further cup Percy’s cheek with his hand and enjoy the moment a little longer. Cute is the thought that crosses Eve’s mind, face staying relatively bright as he just admires the diver and his face rested against the middle of his hand.

     Truthfully, he never expected a kiss to be pressed against his lips. No, in all honesty, Eve expected water splashed in his face, squirted at him or perhaps even being dragged into the water itself ( as much as he would fight against that idea. he’d sink! ). Red eyes stare wide, unblinking as he stares at the android, keeping himself perched on the rubble of the sunken building. His fingers tighten on the concrete, lips parting in his surprise and he just continues staring.

     Why?

     What was that for?

     Should he kiss him back?

     So many questions find themselves running through Eve’s mind. He’s not sure of where he wants to begin, or even if he wants to ask any of the questions at all. So he keeps staring in his silence, running over the questions in that plague him as well as the reminiscence of the sensation, the feeling of Percy’s lips on his. His balance is steady and the machine isn’t sure when he lifted on hand to let gloved fingers trail over his mouth, tracing the shape of it as he remembers the kiss he had been given.

     It’s his first one.

     His lips break into a smile.

     There’s no words from the machine still but he leans forward. Forward, forward, forward till he’s leaning dangerously close to the water. He could fall in. He could get trapped in the deep, dark depths but he shows no sign of flipping over, sliding into the murky ocean. No, he’s steady with his weight, balanced still on the concrete edge of the dilapidated building as he lets his lips touch feather light against the android’s, body humming slightly as well as himself in his contentment.

typically, eve bein a machine, doesnt really have a concept of gender but if it had to be labeled itd be ( masc ) agender and therefore hed respond to he / they but eve doesnt really mind being called ‘it’ either.

Forehead smooch