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+---- Thread: i've always liked to play with fire (/showthread.php?tid=9606)
i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
The Butcher is late.
Later than he was supposed to be coming home. And with no letter sent and his own anxieties eating away at him, having promised Danta that he’d return the following day after getting better thanks to the Remedy’s help, well… He’d taken that day to collect gifts, to have a nice little tea party with Isla on the bone beach, and effectively do his damnedest to clear his head.
It had taken that entire day, not that he’s complaining, but gods if the sinking pit of stress doesn’t yawn open the second that he steps into the warmth of the Last Whisper, a trek aimed directly for home. It’s a new shirt he wears, given that the other one had to be cut off, and the stitches are quite visible as he opens the door to the Dusklight, having shed his coat already in expectation, stuffing it into the bag he brings along with.
The heady warmth of the Dusklight should soothe him – and it does to an extent, but with no cane to announce his arrival it’s his tall stature and the shadow he casts as he shuts the door behind him and glances around the tables first, as if wholly expecting Danta to be indulging amongst better company than he had been as of late.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
The Butcher is late.
And Danta is fine. If, you know, fine is lurking around the Dusklight as though it's his job, causing trouble, starting fights and being a general menace, to the point where some of the more level headed bartenders - and Kiada, let's not mince words - have banished him to the Backrooms for a bit. The Maverick might not have had the minor mental breakdown that Astaroth had to contend with, but the other man is, for all intents and purposes, missing.
Whether Danta likes it or not, that is obviously playing on his mind, especially considering the state he'd left the taller Ancient in when he'd flown home to the Hollowed Grounds. All of that is to say that, when Asta enters the Dusklight, it's surprisingly quiet and calm, and if anything, the sense of relief that accompanies his entry is less because of his role as security, and more just because it's good to have him back.
For his part, Danta is now tucked behind the bar, slouched over one of the ledgers Kiada has let him keep and pretending he gives a fuck about the contents. (He's slowly in the process of ripping one of the pages out, not that even he's aware of the fact).
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
It’s calm and he isn’t sure entirely how to feel about that. He isn’t sure whether it’s an ego boost or more anxiety inducing to realize that how he’d left, and how long he’d left, that things have simply been on a ruthless balancing act, swinging between too much and not at all. Catching eyes with the bartender at the relief he spies in the loosening of their shoulders, Astaroth drifts further in, past anyone currently being tended to as he seeks out only one person in particular.
One that’s thankfully behind the bar with a page slowly getting torn out. And he’s unnoticed so far, so he shifts the bag to settle on the forearm of his not stitched up arm, adjusting the collar briefly of the new shirt (it’s a fine, dark green one this time), and he slips behind the bar for perhaps one of the first times since being here. “[say]Hello, Danta, darling.[/say]” He hums in a quiet greeting, firelight flickering against his skin as his dark eyes take in the Maverick, waiting with baited breath for anything.
A punch, a hug, a get out, a thank the gods you’re home.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
Too engrossed in pretending to read to notice the way the Dusklight seems to sigh out a breath, Danta runs his tongue across his teeth and continues to slowly tear out the ledger page. The soft crrrrrkk of the paper is just chaotic enough to soothe nerves he refuses to believe are frayed, and he sets it gently to one side before starting on the next. And long fingers have just found a nice edge to start ripping when a shadow falls across the words, one so familiar that it has him instinctively glancing up, expecting to see the butcher sitting across from him in his usual spot.
And there's a flash of disappointment on his face to see that no one is there, until a rich and accented voice rumbles out over his shoulder. Whipping around to see the other man, surprise and anger fight for dominance in the Maverick's expression, before finally settling on neither. Huffing out a laugh, he reaches out to shove at the other man's (good) shoulder, free hand clenching over the ledger to stop himself from beating Astaroth with the book.
[say]"And what time do you call this?"[/say] he demands, as if the other man is just late for a drink. The truth, of course, is something only shared between the two of them, and certainly not out here at the bar.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
To say that it seemed like Danta perks up like a canine with the shadow that Astaroth casts, well, it wouldn’t be entirely wrong. But none of those teasing words leave him when the Maverick whips around and the Butcher isn’t sure if he’s even fucking slept, adding to the stress that pools in his stomach. The shove is warranted and Astaroth hums a laugh, letting his sharp toothed smile flash toward the blonde, even if the words cut a bit deeper than he expects them to.
But they’re in public, and he knows how to play the game they’re dancing around, and he steps forward to close a good amount of the distance between them. “[say]I required a new shirt.[/say]” He says as if it were obvious. “[say]It took longer than anticipated. I am sorry.[/say]” He says on an air of an apology, as if it were nothing more than being late for a drink. But they both know better – and so with the words on the tip of his tongue, he swallows them down and an easier smile graces his face as he reaches out with his stitched up arm toward Danta, unsure if he’s going to simply get smacked away like a cat might that doesn’t wish to be touched.
“[say]My cane is in my room and I have a few things to unpack. Would you like to join me?[/say]” Can we talk privately?
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
Danta has slept, thank you very much. Like, once. A nap, maybe, between a pair of very nice breasts. Anyway, shut up Asta. [say]"A new shirt,"[/say] he drawls with a wolfish smile, shaking his head. [say]"Only you could get caught up for two days looking for a new shirt. At least you seem to have picked a decent one."[/say] Gesturing at said shirt, Danta is either too frazzled or too relieved to see the other man to smack away his hand, because his fuss is accepted without comment.
Indeed, he's already rising to his feet and nodding, gesturing for Asta to lead the way. [say]"I had better. There are a few things I need to catch you up on,"[/say] he agrees. Popping the torn page back into the ledger and shutting it, he slides the book towards the long-suffering bartender, who accepts it with a nod.
Given that things in the Dusklight are liable to finally go back to normal now that the butcher has made his reappearance, it's likely best that they batten down the hatches for it. Danta, meanwhile, steps out from behind the bar and waits to follow after Astaroth to his room.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
“[say]The shirt was the main object. I did, however, get other things.[/say]” He pauses, because he doesn’t want to give away the gift too quickly. “[say]I checked in with Isla before I left to ensure all was perfectly fine.[/say]” It hadn’t really been a check in, but he’s sure had he not been keeping up with everything that she would have likely smacked him for it and fixed whatever had gone wrong. And that hadn’t happened – instead, they had a wonderful day sharing tea with her brand new tea set.
Something he doesn’t add, either, because judging by how much Danta is not himself, Asta isn’t sure that he’d handle that particular subject well.
Either way, flashing a grin in a belated response to the compliment of the shirt, Astaroth takes Danta’s hand and guides him toward his room, unlocking it to slip inside and shut it behind Danta, locking it immediately before his shoulders sag a small amount and he turns to set the bag down on the floor before letting his dark gaze focus on the Maverick. “[say]I truly am sorry.[/say]” He offers quieter, more honest now that they can talk freely.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
[say]"A shopping trip and a check-up? How astute of you,"[/say] Danta drawls, following dutifully after the other man with all of his usual carefree swagger, even if it's dampened significantly by, you know, being a bit of a hot mess right now. Regardless, like Asta, it's only once they're behind closed doors that the Maverick can let his guard down, and unlike the other man, he seems to grow more tense if anything, his eyes darkening considerably.
[say]"I thought you were dead,"[/say] he hisses, shoving again at Asta's uninjured shoulder, though this time he seems to mean it a great deal more. [say]"I thought you'd fucked yourself up again and died out on the beach, or in the Oerwoud. Or maybe that the weird void trash thing had come back, or that your skyship had crashed, or-- or whatever."[/say]
With high points of colour in his cheeks and a fury that feels impotent now that the other man is standing in front of him, Danta is nonetheless all wound up with nowhere to go. [say]"What the fuck, Asta."[/say]
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
The calm of the storm doesn’t last as the door closes and the anger comes back – well deserved, as far as Asta’s mind goes, but it isn’t until the next shove has him pressed against the wall that Astaroth reaches out finally, the butcher’s hands reaching for Danta as if to try to keep him from deciding to change his mind and perhaps shove at his not good shoulder.
“[say]I should have sent a letter.[/say]” He adds into the apology, a frown forming on a face that has barely ever harbored anything other than a smile, if the wrinkle lines have anything to say about it. “[say]I took a day to recover, and then went and saw Isla the day I was intending on leaving. I needed to thank her.[/say]” He says, as if it were the only thing he can say to try and make up for the fact that he’s fucked up.
It isn’t a good enough reason, though, and he knows this, and he doesn’t think that now is a good time to show the gift he’d gotten for the Maverick either, like he’s simply alleviating the issue of his lack of communication by bombarding with gifts. So instead, he tries to pull Danta into his chest, into a hug that he so desperately needs but too ashamed to admit it. “[say]I no longer needed to clear my head. The drugs Isla gave me did enough of that for me.[/say]” His nose wrinkles at the memory, the vulnerability. “[say]I am sorry for what I put you through.[/say]” He feels as if he’ll be apologizing for a long while, still.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
[say]"Yes, you fucking should have,"[/say] Danta snaps, and this time he does try to swat the other man's hands away, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron. [say]"I don't care,"[/say] he adds to whatever excuses Asta wants to make, and the heat of something close to shame flushes his cheeks further. This is why we shouldn't be friends, he almost blurts, the words locked and loaded behind his teeth. This is why I'm better off alone. This is why other people make me weak, this is why I shouldn't care--
Before he can get to grips with the things better left unsaid, though, the butcher is pulling him closer, and Danta fights him only for a moment before melting into the familiar warmth and scent of the other man, unashamedly wrinkling his new shirt as he holds onto him tightly. [say]"Shut up Astaroth,"[/say] he mutters, his voice tight as he tucks his chin against the other man's shoulder, a mix of guilt and relief burning in his throat.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
And he will, if it ever happens again – but given this response, the way Danta fights against the hands that approach, his jaw tightens a fraction to feel the soreness double down on the arm with the stitches. He fights through it, though, brows pinching and gaze focusing on the blonde a bit sharper – like a shark smelling blood in the water – because he certainly can already tell that’s what’s happened. Familiar enough with it that he’s done the same himself, Astaroth bites his own tongue in response instead of saying you do care.
Despite the initial fight, Danta does end up succumbing to his hug, and only when he feels the tension start to melt does Asta tuck his cheek against the side of the other man’s head from where he’s tucked into his shoulder, the butcher’s cheek resting on one of those diamond, rainbow hued horns that curve out of his head. He very much doesn’t shut up, because the vulnerability is here face first, and his arms slip around him even tighter despite the pain it causes against his arm, tail slipping around to wind around Danta’s leg. “[say]I won’t let it happen again.[/say]” Asta vows softly, taking a deep breath before he utters another comment, one that’s nearly too quiet to be heard. “[say]I missed you.[/say]”
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
Huffing against the side of the other man's neck and feeling thoroughly caged in by his arms in a way that should feel suffocating but doesn't, it takes a long few seconds for Danta to feel anything other than irritated. But the tension melts out of him, bit by bit, until he can turn his head to rest it properly on Asta's shoulder, exhausted by himself as much as by the past few days. [say]"Good,"[/say] he mumbles, voice muffled by the collar of the butcher's new shirt, his fingers absently smoothing out the wrinkles he's put in the back of it.
Whether he pretends not to hear Asta's next comment at first, or whether he's just unable to respond, either way, Danta shifts just enough to press feather light fingers against the butcher's bad shoulder, as if to gauge how serious the injury still is. [say]"Yeah, me too,"[/say] he mumbles, which is as close to I missed you too without actually saying it as one can get. But it's all Danta has right now, and he still doesn't know if he wants to pull the other man closer or prod his fingers viciously into the wounds he's sustained.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Astaroth - 06-09-2024
The sharp edge of the mumble Danta offers is enough for Asta to certainly make a point to prove he isn’t going to let it happen again, and with it the butcher sighs out a little sound in the absence of the returned I miss you, at least until the comment is aired. In the meantime, the blonde hasn’t pulled away, and Asta hasn’t let him go either, instead he clings to the sensation of his hands as they smooth out the wrinkles in the new shirt (as if he cares much for the wrinkles in the face of everything here).
Letting Danta shift enough to prod at the wound, Astaroth shifts in turn, nuzzling his bearded chin against the other man’s crown, before his tail unwinds from the Maverick and he starts to walk them back toward the bed, his tail twisting to catch the handle of the bag to drag it along with. Offering support enough that when Danta’s calves hit the edge of the mattress and he sits, does Astaroth release him, shifting to unbutton the shirt and slip it off to reveal the precise stitches along his collarbone and shoulder, and his forearm. “[say]They are healing nicely.[/say]” He offers in the quiet crackle of the room, the fireplace flickering light across the interior.
It's enough of a break that he shifts to grab the bag he’d drug along with them, reaching in to pluck his coat out and place it elsewhere before reaching in again and collecting the gift he’d gotten for Danta. Only then does he decide now is as good a time as any to hand him the gift, wrapped in a deep purple paper. "[say]This is for you, my dear.[/say]" Comes the accented drawl, stomach still swirling with his stress.
RE: i've always liked to play with fire - Dantalion - 06-09-2024
[say]"That's good,"[/say] Danta mumbles of the stitches as he's ferried to the bed and sat down, his own tail flicking listlessly back and forth as if unsure what to do with itself (much like its owner). Still flushed and frazzled and unsure what to do with the feelings, as the Maverick is offered a gift of all things, he can't help but tilt his head towards the butcher. [say]"I don't care about this right now."[/say] he tells him in a soft, honest voice; in time he'll undoubtedly appreciate the gesture, but right now he can't even bring himself to unwrap it.
Instead, setting it aside, the Maverick kicks off his shoes and reaches out to snag an arm around the other man again, promptly collapsing down into sheets and pillows that feel almost as familiar as his own. [say]"Stay?"[/say] It's half a request and half a demand, since Danta is already shifting to bury his face in the crook of Asta's neck, throwing a leg across the butcher's waist for good measure, as if to pin him there. [say]"I just need a second,"[/say] he mumbles.
He doesn't - he needs a lot more than a second, and if Asta acquiesces, Danta is liable to pass out there and then for a few hours.