[Training] burn butcher burn

// he's nice, polite, he'll catch you by surprise //

It is a strange sight to see – how the sugar the other Ancient had consumed has next to no effect on him at all with how exhausted he moves. The butcher can relate, though, exhaustion laces through him not just physically from their spar but mentally as well from trying to be as close to normal as possible.

He’s in the process of unrolling his sleeves as Danta turns back toward him, his shirt untucked from his pants fully now once his lover’s arms coil around him, fingers working at the muscles that harbor the tension. His arms slip around Danta’s middle, keeping him close and chest to chest. “I enjoy being spooky.” He claims, his voice dripping with dramatics as he starts to walk them back toward the bed, shooting a playful grin down at his fiancé. “You are right, though.” Danta was often right, whether Asta admitted it or not.

Once he feels Danta’s calves hit the edge of the bed in their den, his arms slip away from him so he can start to shed his clothes – peeling it off of his body and in a now usual turn of events for this season, he lets them fall in a pile randomly somewhere on the floor before he’s bullying his way into the bed alongside the Maverick to hold him close beneath the furs.

Astaroth

// a smile so bright, you'd never bat an eye //

when I was a child I heard voices, some would sing and some would scream

"And you are very good at it," Danta assures him, grinning as he's directed back towards their den. "This season you're just a little more obviously spooky," he adds, shrugging and dropping down onto the bed once his calves hit the side of the mattress. While Asta sheds his clothes, the Maverick does his best to kick off his pants while trying to get an eyeful of the other man. By the time the butcher is done and tugging them beneath the covers he's only just managed it, letting out a surprised laugh as he's wrestled back into Asta's arms.

"Now that's better," he confirms, voice muffled against the butcher's chest, lips brushing kisses against his skin wherever they touch and whenever he speaks. Asta has no right to be as comfortable as he is, Danta squirming just enough to hook one of his legs over the other man's hips, tail sweeping contently across the bed. "...I'm probably not going to sleep well, you know," he mumbles after a few minutes of comfortable silence, as if Danta can feel himself losing the fight against slumber. "Sorry in advance."

The Maverick

you soon find you have few choices, I learned the voices died with me

// he's nice, polite, he'll catch you by surprise //

“Obviously spooky is quite the compliment.” He purrs playfully as he sheds his clothes, letting them fall unceremoniously in a pile somewhere. By this time he’s crawling into bed alongside Danta, he’s manhandling him just enough to get him wrapped around him and comfortable, slipping up his glamour so that his horns and tail vanish to not tear the pillows or potentially get into a position that would be terrible when Danta inevitably has a bad night.

His arms are wrapped around the Maverick, his hand lifting to thread through the golden strands at the nape of his neck, gentle strokes as he tucks his head into the crown of his head. “I know, darling.” He murmurs softly – having already anticipated it from the events earlier, already preparing himself for the potential of it. “I will take care of you.” He lets the quiet vow escape him, curled around him and tucking him in so he can finally succumb to sleep.

Astaroth

// a smile so bright, you'd never bat an eye //

when I was a child I heard voices, some would sing and some would scream

Danta peeks up at Asta just enough to realise he's drawn his glamour up, prompting the Maverick to follow suit if only to make it easier for the other man to wrap himself around him. Without any horns to impale him, he soon nuzzles further against his chest and into the side of his neck, smiling despite himself at the butcher's vow. "You're good at it," he whispers back. Good at taking care of me.

"Just keep doing this, if I'm having a hard time," he suggests, head tipping forward a little so Asta can continue his fuss along the back of his neck and through his hair. This being exactly as they are now - tangled up in one another, all soft hands and gentle affection. It might not wake him from the nightmare, but it might not need to; a kind hand to lead him back into deeper sleep is better, sometimes, than waking and being faced with it all.

He might have articulated as much to Asta with some degree of success, but unfortunately sleep has already carried him away by that point, and Danta is out like a light.

~FIN

The Maverick

you soon find you have few choices, I learned the voices died with me