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Who: UK!George, Lust
What: Post sex-marathon
When: ...let's say Friday?
Where: George's house in London
Warnings: Talk of sexytimes, at the least

George did not take saintly expectations of chastity as seriously as his brother. Obviously. George still remembered, with guilty fondness, the days when part of the qualification for sainthood had seemingly involved killing large amounts of your enemies. Sainthood was not nearly the moral high ground that people these days made it out to be, was the general point of his meandering thoughts.

All of that being said, however, he was feeling distinctly guilty as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and tried to figure out if he could still walk.

"I've done a bad thing," he muttered, to no one in particular. Lust was probably around. Somewhere.

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Lust shook out her hair with a hand as she walked back into the bedroom naked as the day she was created. She had no qualms about her body and as anybody looking could see, she had been right when she said her breasts were just one of many things fantastic about her. "Yes, several times." she gave a devilish smile and walked over to him, "Wanna do it again?" It was gross fucking a Saint but knowing it was wrong and the guilt he felt and all that fun stuff.. well, it was worth it.

George glanced downward and then went back to staring at the ceiling.

"I'm 90 percent sure that I physically can't right now, so no," George said.

Lust pouted, "Boo, you have such little stamina." even though they'd gone at it harder and more than a normal human coupling could have handled. "And the question wasn't if you can, it was if you wanted to." she touched her middle finger to his toes as she stayed near the foot of the bed, "So. Do you."

"I think maybe you understand less about male anatomy than you think." George twitched his toe away. If his cock could have spoken, it would have been pleading for an hour or two of rest. "You're going to kill me, woman."

Lust raised a brow and then put a knee on the mattress in between his legs at the calves. "So? You're immortal." she failed to see the problem. "And you'd like it."

"Being immortal doesn't make dying any less painful." He should probably have sat up, to make the conversation a little more forceful. But the bed was so comfortable and he was so lazy right now. "Especially death by exploded cock. Don't you need sleep?"

"I've killed a couple of men that way, died with smiles on their faces." she flourished a hand under her chin as she gave a big smile. She could be joking but she was a Sin.

She put her other knee on the bed, "I slept. The only thing I don't skip are meals. You think exploded cock is bad, try being starved to death."

"I've come close to starving more than once," George said idly. He rolled his head to look at her. "How did it happen to you? You don't seem like the type to frequent warzones and famine-stricken areas."

She slid down the bed to lay on her stomach next to him. She turned her head looking up at him with eyes that were almost innocent, "Satan locked me in a box and left me there till I died." her tone was casual, just par for the course in their family.

George blinked, startled. "That's terrible. Why would he do something like that to a Sin?"

George knew why Satan would do something like that in general (he was a monster and also a huge dick), but he'd always been under the impression that the Sins and the Kings of Hell generally worked together.

Lust looked at him strangely, "What exactly do you think goes on with us and our psuedo parents? They buy us mcdondals and tuck us in sweetly at night?"

"No, I assume you do horrible things together," George said. "Just not to each other."

Lust laughed, "They're horrible people they do horrible things to everyone. Satan tends to treat us like his naughty children," her voice turned dark, "Lucifer treats us like we're things that he owns."

"I'm sorry your bosses are the Devil," George said. His tone was glib, but he was actually sincere. His encounters with Satan and Lucifer had been brief and incredibly unpleasant. He couldn't imagine dealing with them on a daily basis.

Lust gave him another odd look and then shrugged, "Lucifer is a pot full of piss. Satan.. has his moments." she smiled wickedly at him, "He did give me your address. You should send him a thank you muffin basket to have with his tea."

"Yeah, the American mentioned that Satan was the one who pointed you towards me," George said, laughing and rubbing his eyes. "I didn't actually know he had my address. Suppose it makes sense, though. I've had this house since the 1800s."

"Saints are pretty set in their ways.." she reached out trailing a fingernail down his chest, "It makes them predictable."

"Humans are set in their ways, and we still think like humans," George said. He stretched out, letting his back crack. "Living forever doesn't change that."

"And yet you somehow thought you could deny yourself a basic human desire. In fact, the basic human desire." she raised a brow.

"I haven't been denying myself anything," George said. "I just haven't sought anyone out. I was not expecting an extremely persistent Sin."

"You denied me at first." she pointed out, "And I think you'd have been very very pouty if I hadn't been persistent."

"I think you don't know me as well as you'd like to think you do," George said, lips quirking. "Have you enjoyed yourself, then?"

Lust scoffed, "Really? Do surprise me." her eyes closed and she folded her arms under her head. She knew they'd end up here, didn't they? She shrugged when he asked if she'd enjoyed herself, eyes still closed. "Meh."

"That isn't very nice," George said. "You were nicer when you were seducing me."

Lust's eyes opened a sliver, snake green looking at him as she asked incredulously, "You want me to be nice?"