witching hour

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"I'd rather hope so, at this point," Danta says with a wry smile; even before this strange new world where they've found themselves as friends (and then some), the Maverick had known a startling amount about the Astaroth of old, given how quick they were to fight and torment one another. It came with the territory, he supposes, but it doesn't make it any less amusing now that he's not using the information to be a thorn in Asta's side.

Tucked in against the other man's side, Danta relaxes bonelessly enough, shifting to let a leg stretch across Asta's lap as he takes a long sip of tea. "Room service buttons? Or perhaps a rope attached to a bell behind the bar?" He grins, tilting his head to let it rest against the butcher's shoulder. "That's far from a bad idea. I'll get to work on it first thing in the morning," he vows, lifting his cup back to his lips even as he watches the fire with heavy eyes.

"...You're sure you're alright?" he finds himself saying, craving the reassurance in a way he's never needed previously.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

They did know a tremendous amount about one another. Danta, enough to constantly meddle and needle him at any chance, and Asta, enough to know just how to torment him at any given time. It’s strange but relieving that the roles have changed, where there’s a much larger part of the Butcher that feels protective over the blonde, so much so that the second he leans into his half embrace is when the taller Ancient relaxes again.

“Precisely.” He agrees a touch chipperly, cradling the cup of tea in his hand while the other winds around Danta’s shoulders, fingertips running through the blonde at the nape of his neck. “Not having to get dressed and go down the stairs just to order a snack… Divine.” It’s dramatic, but the airiness of the way he says the last word seems so much at odds with the butcher who’s preference was often to be impeccably dressed.

Tilting his head toward Danta with the question, a deep chuckle leaves him as he nods. “I’m fine.” He reassures him. “And I no longer feel like I have stars burning through my veins. So as far as I can tell, things are back to normal.” Shifting slightly to nose his way in and press his lips to the corner of the Maverick’s lips, he withdraws slightly with that same sharp grin. “I promise that I am okay.”

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"Another option, if you are ever comfortable enough with Moira, is for me to tie our order to her foot and send her down to the bar herself." Danta smirks, though he knows better than to suggest that this will happen any time soon. Still, it would give them options, he supposes, and he really ought to start thinking about his companion in more practical terms. "Though I did assume you would relish any opportunity to get dressed and go to show yourself off," he adds.

Not expecting Asta's laugh, for a moment the Maverick's eyebrow raises and he turns to glance up at the other man, only soothed by the words that eventually pass his lips. Releasing a sigh, he doesn't realise that he's been holding his metaphorical breath for the moment Safrin's presence properly fled from the butcher's veins. If his injuries had returned at that point, then all of Danta's suspicions would have been confirmed. That they haven't is a surprise, albeit a happy one.

"Good," he mumbles, waiting for Asta to draw back before redirecting his lips back against his own - properly, this time. Danta's kiss is one of weary relief, and as he draws back it's to let his head rest on the butcher's shoulder, eyes heavy and the tea forgotten in his hands.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

“I will allow it so long as you allow me to bury my head into the blankets first so I do not have to see her.” He says, completely serious, before shifting slightly to snort as he takes another sip of his tea, letting the sweet and hot liquid warm up his chest — a chest that had been nothing but goo the day before. “At the moment I would prefer to stay here with you exactly as I am.” He says on a soft exhale, before he launches into just how okay he is.

He’ll let Danta inspect him to his hearts content, though he won’t find a single thing amiss in neither his words or his appearance, and as he makes his vow and presses his lips to the corner of Danta’s lips, shifted to press one in a real kiss against the other man’s lips, Astaroth sighs into it softly before he sinks back and the butcher tries to ensure his tea doesn’t spill, arm tightened around the other Ancient’s shoulder to keep him close as his cheek presses in to the crown of the Maverick’s head. “You did not sleep at all, did you, darling?”

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"That is an acceptable compromise," Danta agrees with the whisper of a smile crossing his lips, and were it not for the fact that it's currently the dead of night, he might have taken their plan for a test flight. Alas, if Asta wants something for right now he'll have to get up and order it for himself, whether or not he decides to get himself dressed beforehand. 

Belatedly - and only because he notices the other man do it - the Maverick sips again at his own tea, and then shifts to more comfortably tuck his head against Asta's shoulder. "I slept a bit," he mumbles, not that it really counted. "Maybe an hour or two." Not enough for rest - hardly enough to be a real nap, honestly. 

"I was watching to make sure nothing happened." To make sure a goddess didn't come down and steal you away; to make sure a tree didn't break into the Dusklight and go on a rampage; to make sure you were safe. A stroke of luck, as it happened, since he was able to respond to the butcher's nightmare almost right away.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

“Good.” He hums, allowing Danta to settle easier, because he certainly isn’t intending to get up to grab anything, let alone get dressed to go down and face the bravado of the crowds down below, no matter how hungry he was. So instead, he’s content to remain precisely where he is, curled up against the Maverick, tail winding around the other Ancient’s leg, content in any form of connection.

Nodding slowly as Danta settles after the sip, he sets his cup down and returns the free hand over to offer warmth and comfort to the other Ancient. “Nothing but nightmares.” He hums softly, jaw moving slightly from where it’s pressed against the crown of the blonde’s head. “Thank you for that, by the way.” Offering the gratitude gently, his arm squeezes a little before he settles in again. “Perhaps I should find a sleeping muzzle of some kind.” Maybe it would be beneficial for them all (the Maverick, the pillows, himself) if he did.

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

Chasing after Asta's hand with his own, Danta also sets his cup down lest he end up allowing it to slip from his fingers accidentally. "Mm, nightmares aren't anything to sniff at. Worth staying awake for," he mumbles, his own tail sweeping in lazy, comfortable arcs across the rest of the couch. Humming in response to the offered thanks, he presses his lips against the hollow of the butcher's throat for a moment, before letting out a long sigh.

"I will add it to my to-do list for tomorrow," he says, smirking. "Bedtime muzzle, room service bell, training with the guards." Evidently he's going to be very busy on very little sleep, and so it will take some espresso martinis and a bump or two of snapdragon to get through the day. Danta's been through worse, though, so this will be fine.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

Snorting softly at the response he gets, the butcher rolls his eyes a touch playfully even as he helps Danta set the cup down. As the Maverick leans in, lips pressed to his throat, he simply keeps the embrace tight out of comfort and not wanting to let him go. “It is exhausting, though.” Not just for him, but for Danta as well if he isn’t going to sleep because of them.

Either way, tacking on more and more things to the to do list has the butcher promptly signing a little. “Suddenly there is much on the docket for the morning.” All things of which Asta had mentioned, though it wasn’t like the Maverick needed to handle it all on his own. A thought that has his fingertips walking up the other Ancient’s shoulder, threading through blonde strands, and returning back down his shoulder and arm in a rhythm. “I am capable of helping, you know.” Comes the tired and playful tease, not willing to let everything he’s suggested be solved entirely by his sleep deprived Theocrat.

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"Mm, it is," Danta agrees. "We need to get more of those sedatives from that place... The Sparkbird's Nest? Or at least find out where they get their stash." Another thing to add to his ever growing list, but at least that one might have an end goal. And for now, in fact, Danta does have some Dreamdust lying around. It's with almost visible reluctance that he peels himself away from the butcher to go and fetch it from a gilded box, waving the little paper package of white power towards Asta as he returns.

Knowing better than to offer anything to his control-freak of a bodyguard, but leaving the option open if he'd like, Danta leans across Asta to grab up his teacup again, tipping some of the powder into it to dissolve. "You are already helping," he informs him, sitting back into the crook of his arm to peer up at him. "Just being here is helping."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

“I can find out where they are getting it from.” And perhaps find out if the maker can make it taste any better than the nightmarish liquid he’d taken back then in Levinsward. A controlling move, of course, taking one more little task from the Maverick’s list to tack it onto his own. He does, however, equally reluctantly let the blonde slip out of his embrace, tail unwinding from him to rest with idle flicks as Danta retrieves the drugs, leaning back a little when he reaches over to grab the cup of tea.

Shaking his horned head, he snags his own cup. “Thank you, darling, but no.” He says to the offer of the drugs, before he watches the powder dissolve, taking a sip of his own drug free cup before he flashes a too sharp grin toward him, arm winding around him again. “You flatter me.” He teases, taking the compliment for what it was. “I aim to please.” Comes the bold claim, one that very clearly was not true, but felt right to say anyway.

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"Mm, sure. If you find the time," Danta concedes, already draped back against Asta's side with his drugged tea in his hands, the Maverick sipping from it deeply. Unbeknownst to either man, of course, Asta is going to be very busy the following day up in the Climb with Torchline's queen, but you know, more on that later maybe. For now, with his list knocked back down to three items and with Asta having declined his offer, Danta tucks away the remainder of the Dreamdust and promptly finishes his tea.

"I dunno if it counts as flattery if it's true," he mumbles, already sounding a little drowsy and slumping against Asta to close his eyes, huffing out a warm breath against the side of his neck. "I think I'll find it hard to wake up this time, if there are nightmares," he says apologetically. "So if you wanna go, it's okay."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash

// i am the righteous hand of god //

Humming a note of agreement as Danta sinks into his side, he makes a mental note to definitely get the sedative found. But, in terms of his business, the date is the last thing on his mind (for the moment, at least) content to have him sunk into his side and curled up. He’s the most at peace as he can be right this second, downing the rest of his tea, too, collecting his cup and the other man’s, setting them on the side before he drags Danta more fully into his arms.

“I don’t want to go. I will be restrained.” He hums, quite awake all things considered, willing to hold him as he sleeps a bit longer. As if for extra emphasis, utilizing his magic he swells the fire in the fireplace a bit more, creating an even warmer haze of heat to embrace them, adjusting the Theocrat to rest his head into his neck and against his shoulder. He’ll hold him for however long he can. He’s happy to. He wants to.

Astaroth

// i am the devil that you forgot //

all you have is your fire
and the place you need to reach

"A'right, if you're sure," Danta slurs, evidently already halfway into a doze - he had been well before taking the dreamdust, in truth, but now there are no inhibitions or anxieties preventing him from letting go. The cup is slipped easily from between his fingers, especially given how he can't feel his hands much any more, and as Asta adjusts him, Danta sinks into the offered warmth and comfort in a way his subconscious ordinarily wouldn't allow.

Nuzzled against the crook of the butcher's neck, it won't take long at all for Asta to realise that the Maverick has passed out; a dead weight in the butcher's arms, he'll find Danta easy to manoeuvre whether it's onto the couch properly or back to bed. Either way, he'll remain like this until well beyond the dawn; it wouldn't be surprising, in fact, if Danta awakens to find the butcher has already left to go to The Climb.

In which case, they'll just have to catch up when he gets back.

~FIN <3

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons
but always keep them on a leash