Honestly, Cain wasn't worried about being dead, he was worried about still being alive, worried that he'd fuck himself over. Being dead... sort of let him off the hook in a weird, kind of depressing way.

Cain tilted his head as Kavinsky leaned in, lips parting instinctually even as he also leaned back, just far enough to keep their lips from brushing.

The corner of his mouth curls a little at Kavinsky's insistent teasing.

"If we're dead, there's really no reason not to. I wonder if that technically makes this necrophilia..." Definitely a terrible joke, but Cain's smirk widened as he made it. With his last reason to be reluctant gone, he pushed his suit down a little further, tugging at it to open the front more and free himself.