one hundred sleepless nights

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

He can nearly feel the heat radiating from Danta’s cheeks as he surges in for another kiss, a growl poured into it as the reward is swift with the movement of his hand. And gods, what a kind of delirium Danta sparks, that ego of his rising with the plea as they part so that he might catch his breath, indulging in the Maverick’s writhing body and bound hands.

Ah, but then as he dives in for another kiss, one intending to be a hint softer as a reward, it all goes out the window with the fresh flood of blood again. The second their lips meet, Astaroth’s pressing in again, his body pressed in hard enough to give Danta something to grind against in lieu of his hand as he runs his hands up the blonde’s sides to his hands, loosening the belt to slip his wrists out, draping them momentarily along his shoulders as he undoes the belt from the bedpost.

The butcher’s panting a curse when he withdraws, hands immediately finding Danta’s hips to slide him over to the open bed, pushing him down and back as he starts to unbutton his own pants, a tinge of scarlet left on his lips and cheek.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

Later if Asta asks about it, Danta will lie and say the spike of crimson in his kiss was intentional, but here and now they both know the truth. Humming a note of aching need against the other man's lips, of course the Maverick takes full advantage of having another body flush against his own, to the point where he might accidentally make it difficult for Astaroth to unbuckle him from the bedpost.

In the end, though, the butcher manages it, Danta kicking off shoes and his pants even as he's pressed back into the plush sheets of the other man's bed. With tingling fingers he sinks all too willingly into the comfort of the mattress, gazing up at Asta through hooded eyes and with lips still stained red, watching eagerly as he finally starts to unbutton his pants.

"Fuck, look at you," he hisses, one of his own hands stroking idly against the length of his cock as he watches the butcher undress. "If you don't fuck me soon I think I'm gonna lose it."

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Regardless of how difficult Danta makes it, Astaroth manages to unbind his hands eventually despite the brief hisses of frustration in his attempts. Then, with the adjustment of maneuvering him into the space opened up on his bed, atop furs and blankets and plush everythings, the butcher’s lips twitch into a smirk as he watches Danta lounge like a coy cat.

Finally unbuttoning his pants, Astaroth slips out of them with a sigh of relief, rolling his shoulders a bit. “I wonder what that might look like, hm?” He drawls, watching the other man as if to punctuate the thought before he gives in after a few heartbeats over too long.

Warm hands reach out for Danta’s legs, dragging him to the edge of the bed and all but insisting he wrap his legs around the butcher’s hips, lining up his cock against the Maverick and yet not quite diving in just yet, adding more to the taunting and teasing.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

"Keep it up and you'll find out," Danta purrs, hips lifting as Asta drags him towards the end of the bed. Finding it altogether too much, the way the butcher manhandles him so easily, he hooks his legs around the other man's waist almost with the intention of toppling him over. Not quite, though - Danta has promised he'll be good, after all, and so long as Asta is looking down at him like this, he might just manage to keep that promise.

Still, to feel the hard length of his cock press teasingly against him is enough to have a soft curse hissing from the Maverick's lips, his hand still idly stroking himself even as he locks his gaze on Asta's honey dark eyes. "You're only denying yourself," he points out with a wicked sort of smile, which is the other man's prerogative, true, but gods it can't be all that fun to be so wound up.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

A huff of a snort escapes Astaroth, lips quirking into a smirk as his bruised and scarred chest continues to rise, manhandling the Maverick into precisely the spot he wants him. The following taunt is certainly one to barb beneath Astaroth’s skin. And to his wicked grin, the butcher’s eyes roll, until of course he continues to pause and wait a few seconds longer. “Perhaps I’m planning, darling.”

It’s enough time for him to lean down, snag Danta’s hands to stop allowing him to touch himself, collecting them back above his head and pin with one hand. And for the reward, his hips snap, driving himself deep into the Theocrat with a groan, his other hand drifting down between them, wrapping around his cock as he starts to pick a punishing pace, blanketing the other Ancient.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

"You've had all night to plan," Danta fires back, his bloody lips still curled into a self-satisfied smirk, up until Asta leans in and snatches his hands to pin them back above his head. There's a brattish remark ready on his tongue for that, only for the other man to suddenly surge forward, stealing the Maverick's words in lieu of a moan pitched somewhat higher than he'd usually allow. "Oh gods--"

He doesn't have time to plea to those either, though, Danta hitching in a quick breath before the other man is pinning him so completely that it can't feel anything but right, the snap of his hips dragging bitten back cries and hoarse curses from the Maverick's lips with every thrust. Arching against the sheets as if to provide more of an anchor for Asta to fuck against, Danta can offer little more than filthy encouragement whispered against the butcher's ear, but gods if he doesn't drip threats and promises in equal measure.

"No one fucks me like you do," he grates out in the end, legs tightening around Asta's waist as if to further spur him on.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Well that’s a new sound that leaves the blonde’s lips, the butcher’s own smirking as he keeps the other man pinned beneath him, content as can be to have sparked such a reaction from the Theocrat. It’s okay, though, because it has a similar effect on the taller Ancient, especially with all the curses, threats, and delectable promises that vehemently leave the blonde’s throat.

The adjustment is met with growls of approval, tail wrapping around one of Danta’s legs to tug it up as his hips snap again and the hand pinning the Theocrat’s wrists grow a bit tighter, body shivering in delight and cock throbbing within Danta with the admission — whether it’s true or not, the butcher can’t say.

He does, however, purr into the Maverick’s ear, his hips stuttering into a slower, softer pace for a moment that matches the speed of his hand. “Fuck, Dantalion.” As if his mind is blank for a moment, like the compliment has blue screened him for a moment. Recovering, he noses his way against Danta’s shoulder, teeth marking him in a very obvious way. Surprisingly not deep, but enough to draw blood, enough to scab in precisely the arcs that make up each prong of the butcher’s teeth, enough to have him groaning and snapping his hips again. “Maybe.. Maybe they’re afraid they will break you.” He growls out a touch possessively.

Because if anyone knew the limits of the Theocrats body, it was the Butcher of Whitebrim. He’s had years to learn it, after all. “I know how far to push you, darling.” He purrs, hot tongue flattening against the bloodied mark.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

Danta hasn't once tried to strain against the hands pinning him to the bed - not until now, and the most satisfying thing for Asta, perhaps, is that he's not playing around at it either; the attempt is genuine. Alas, their positioning and the punishing, relentless thrust of the butcher's hips means that the Maverick is entirely at his mercy, Danta giving up just as Asta slows somewhat, leaving him panting against the crook of his neck and into dark hair.

You already are, he wants to say, only for the butcher to suddenly pin him down with teeth breaking the skin against his shoulder. The spike of blood on the air and the sharp pain mingling with pleasure is enough to drag a husky cry from his lips, fingers flinching as if trying to grasp fruitlessly at the other man. "Or maybe they just aren't you," Danta hisses, sweat shining on his brow and his heels digging into the butcher's lower back, especially as he resumes that same brutal pace as before.

"Asta, please--" He whispers against the shell of his ear, though what he's pleading for is unknown even to the Maverick.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

“Or maybe they just aren’t you.” And gods if that isn’t just a loaded answer, fluffing up the butcher’s ego and possessiveness. Does he mean precisely that Astaroth knows what kind of things Danta can handle? Or does it mean that there’s that other spark, that it someone else did try to do this, they wouldn’t get the Maverick to react quite the same?

Those thoughts are ones that thankfully don’t linger in the butcher’s mind too long, not with the press of Danta’s heels into his lower back and the plea that leaves the blonde, giving Astaroth more fire to the one burning within him to turn into an inferno. It’s evident in how his hips stutter, like the compliments and pleading have more of an affect on him than anticipated, and he grants a boon for the Maverick as he releases Danta’s hands, placing the one that had pinned the other Ancient’s wrists by his head as he pants and groans with each thrust and simultaneous stroke of his hand against the other man’s length.

Dragging bloodied lips up to Danta’s jeweled ear, a husky and deeper sound leaves him in a panted breath of cockiness, “please what, Danta, darling?” Without waiting for a response, the butcher’s hand moves faster, as if trying to drag Danta closer to the edge, trying to pull him into an overwhelming moment of thoughtlessness and bliss as he continues to push at Danta’s body with his roughness.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

"You know what," Danta all but hisses, the words clipped by the sudden quick movements of the butcher's hand against his cock. But fuck, his hands are blessedly free, and they almost move of their own accord as he can finally touch and grab at the other man the way he wants to. "Fuck me," he begs, like Asta isn't already doing just that, his fingers twisting tightly through the back of his dark hair, free hand slithering down the length of his spine to grasp at the base of his tail.

Already his orgasm is crackling up the heels of his feet and through the backs of his thighs, and when he does cum, Danta is far from quiet about it. Arched flush against Asta as close as he can get with the butcher's hand wedged between them and their bodies, his name leaves the Maverick's lips like a plea and a curse, and for a few moments there's nothing but the movement of their bodies and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

Satisfaction curls on the corner of the butcher’s lips in spite of the breaths that heave from his chest, relishing in the hands that find him and run though dark hair that has come loose, along with dancing down his bruised and scarred spine until reaching the base of his tail. It has his breath hitching, already giving into Danta’s request, and when he feels that tension burn through the body beneath him, it spurs him on further.

He doesn’t try to quiet the Maverick, if anything the possessive part of him right now silently prays that the rest of the Dusklight can hear just how good of a night its owner is having. His hand is wedged between them, but he can feel the heat of the mess spread, fingers still trying to pull everything he can out of the other Ancient even as his hips snap in a pace that stutters and betrays the composure he’s tried to have.

Luckily it doesn’t take long after Danta before Astaroth is pitching forward, moaning out curses and the Theocrat’s name, sharp teeth biting on the inside of his cheek as he feels the warm sensation of blood and he moves the hand from between them to roughly grasp Danta’s chin, planting a greedy and bloody kiss that’s almost too tender as he rides out his climax, panting heavily through his nose as his hips start to slow and his body sags into the blonde.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

Feeling the other man's hips stutter and his breath hitch, even through his post-orgasm haze Danta has the sense to sip in a lungful of air just before his lips are stolen by the butcher's. Tasting blood and heat and melting into it as if it's the finest vintage he's ever sampled, the fingers wrapped tightly in Asta's hair grow more gentle by degrees, until his thumb is brushing across a bearded cheek and he's moaning softly in protest at having to part for breath.

Panting hard and already feeling the delicious ache in his hips and lower back that will only get more tender as the night goes on, Danta wants nothing more than exactly this, and he lets his head flop back against the plush sheets even as his fingers walk slowly up the butcher's spine before ghosting along his shoulders. He doesn't speak - doesn't need to - and it's a further long few minutes before he peers up at the other man through hooded eyes.

"Kiss me again," he demands.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //

reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am

It’s a kiss that’s both tender and possessive, and it goes until his lungs burn and they have to part, face pressing in against the hand that gently caresses along his bearded cheek while he tries desperately to catch his breath. His hand slips away from such a possessive hold on the Maverick’s jaw, slipping up into the tousled blonde in gentle, threading strokes, his other hand bracing still ever so slightly before he gives up, fully blanketing the blonde with his weight so that both hands can gently run his fingers along the sharp curve of Danta’s jaw, thread through golden strands, brush and tap along diamond, rainbow hued horns.

He’s finally somewhat caught his breath by the time Danta’s rough voice is demanding another kiss from him. He adjusts, this time slipping one of his arms around Danta’s shoulders, pulling him up as he dives in for another kiss, mind hazy and blank and satisfied as a cat. The kiss is gentler this time around, though still just as possessive and dripping with iron, Astaroth humming a sound of content into the Maverick’s mouth while his other hand continues its path through gold strands.

Astaroth

i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////

// light shines in the darkness //

Boneless in his pleasure and easily manoeuvered however Asta wishes, Danta's fingers have regained feeling at least, and it's with greed and a possessiveness of his own that he lets his hands tease across muscle and scar tissue, marking it as if he means to recall it later from memory. Humming a note of satisfaction to feel the butcher's lips against his own once more, this time the Maverick is able to respond with more of his own need, nipping at a lower lip still stained by blood.

"I think," he says, his voice hoarse and quiet, the remark entirely ruined by the smile on his lips, "that's the best you've ever fucked me. You'll have to remind me to return the favour one of these days." Softly said and with no intention of parting from the other man, Danta plants yet another kiss against his lips before slumping back, entirely content to have the butcher blanketed over him.

Dantalion

// and the darkness will never understand it //