I guess we are.

[ Still feels very nice, even if it's not a belly rub. Incubus is heroically fighting the urge to curl up on Kay's lap and purr like a happy kitten.

Big bad demons don't do that. At least not at work where citizens in need of help could walk in on them.

He gives Kay a lingering look. ]

You should massage my wing muscles once we get home. They ache from flying patrol. I'll cook dinner for us, too. Try to keep some semblance of our normal life.