Up until this instant, Devero has had the best of intentions. He's going to take it slow with Koumyou, introduce him to things at a gentle pace. He knows that he can be-- intense-- and Koumyou's comfort is important to him.

Then Koumyou pulls his hair.

He's always had a thing for that, and the effect it has on him is immediate and only exacerbated when the priest uses that grip on his hair to separate them. His pupils are blown wide with desire, his chest heaving for air as they separate. "We should--" he agrees, disjointedly, then just groans again as Koumyou closes with him once more.

"Nng-- yes," he pants when they break apart again. He's the one who separates them bodily, but only so he can swoop Koumyou up into his arms. "Where to?" he growls.