[SE] black shades, white gloves

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

There’s very little left of the dessert and the martinis by the time they are nearly done and with only a few more raspberries left for the butcher to dip in the remaining chocolate cause, the butcher settles in once they’ve fully devoured every last bit. He makes his offer, however, knowing just how much Danta would appreciate it even if the Maverick catches him out for it shortly after – despite how gentlemanly he’s being.

“I do know it, darling.” He sighs like it’s the biggest secret he’s had and he’s just been caught. But those dramatics are short lived as Danta squares them away and he catches his lover’s bouncing brows as he untangles his tail with his lover’s. “If I cannot, I at least have my cane.” Shooting him a crooked and still sharp grin, the butcher slips out of the booth and collects the cane, straightening out his attire and brushing a loose piece of hair back behind a jeweled antler.

Their jackets arrive as they reach the door of the bistro and once he’s slipped it on completely, the butcher’s arm is offered to the blonde Ancient with an easy smile. “Shall we make this quick?” He asks in a tone more akin to a dare, even if his bones feel like they'll ache.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Well if you lean on your cane and I lean on you, I think we might just manage it," Danta agrees with a grin, also rising to his feet and straightening out his suit before they head out of the loft and down towards the reception area. Accepting his coat and scarf and making short work of pulling both on - already he can feel the chill of the cold night from outside - he turns up his collar and easily loops his arm through Asta's.

"If you wouldn't mind," he says of making their walk home a brisk one, the Maverick calling his thanks over his shoulder as they duck out into the street. The snow is falling softly and there are still plenty of people out to enjoy themselves, but after being tucked away in the warmth of the restaurant, even the merry glow of the bonfire nearby isn't enough to stop the shiver that shoots down Danta's spine.

Already he's picking up his feet, and not for the first time is he glad that both of them are tall (granted, he's got nothing on the butcher). "Fuck, this season always takes my breath away," he complains, voice muffled beneath his scarf as they head for the steps down to the Last Whisper.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

“A solid plan, my dear.” Whatever it took to get them back home without turning to stone, at least. Full and content and with the warm buzz of the alcohol that helps keep the furnace that they were alight in their chests. He doesn’t mind making it a quick walk on the way home, even if his bones would protest the next morning, because without having some kind of teleportation, this was the best he could do.

Murmuring his own accented thanks alongside Danta’s, they step out into the cold with a shiver that races down the butcher’s spine and has his arm tightening around Danta’s as he picks a steady and quick pace, the click of his cane dampening with the occasional snow drifts. “In Whitebrim we would often create a variety of jerkies to keep us sated because it would snow so heavily that we could not leave our homes.” Perhaps that tradition, paired with the butcher’s very active Leafchange, also makes it a challenge to feel up to nearly anything this season.

Either way, the butcher picks the swiftest path toward the Dusklight, leaning into the warmth that exudes from Danta and the addition of the little flames that dance around the long dark tines of his horns like a halo of hellfire, at least until they've reached the brothel's door.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Ewww," Danta protests - Asta has heard his opinions on jerky before now, and it remains one of the only food items that he'd rather go hungry than suffering through. Still, he can't deny that in weather like this, he might concede to living off the stuff if it meant not having to leave the safety and warmth of home, and as they hurry down the steps and into the Last Whisper, they're accompanied by a howling and bitter wind that has him softly cursing.

Still, by the time they reach the doors to the Dusklight there's laughter on Danta's lips at the sheer ridiculousness of their walk, and snow is melting in his hair as he steps inside. Immediately the warmth and music and familiarity of the place has his shoulders relaxing, the Maverick releasing Asta's arm so he can unbutton his coat and take off his scarf as he makes a beeline for the door leading upstairs.

"You know," he says, hiding a sudden yawn behind his hand, "I think I might put myself to bed as well as you."

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

He does know of Danta’s preferences, but when it came to weather even worse than this (even fi he wasn’t Ancient at the time), he’d much preferred the food they had a chance to make as opposed to the whole hunt of it all. So he regales him with the playful stories and memories of it, how he’d spend much of the season carving all of those knife handles and bones that he’d squirreled away in his home, up until they’ve finally reached the doors of the Dusklight.

The butcher sighs a bit of relief, too, kicking out his boots to rid it of the packed snow within it, stepping in and tugging his jacket off in the process. The fire remains for a few moments longer, at least to help light the way to their room as Danta hides a yawn behind his hand – an infectious one as Asta hides his own yawn. “You know I would never be against you joining me.” He drawls with a playful smile tossed over his shoulder as he opens the door for his lover, letting him slip in first before he follows and closes the door – already setting his threaded cane to the side and turns his focus to the warm yet far less soft attire he wears in comparison to the furs and blankets that drape their bed.

Once he's managed to get his coat hung up, he reaches for the Maverick, tugging him in close to wrap his arms around him and steal a sweet and self indulgent kiss.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Then I guess it's settled - we'll both turn in early." Smiling over his shoulder as he catches Asta's yawn, Danta hurries up the stairs and stands by with his coat and scarf folded over his arm as the other man opens the door for them. Murmuring his thanks, Danta swans inside and immediately sets the fire to roaring, flooding the room with warmth and cozy light.

He's just got enough time to hang up his coat and to drape his scarf over the dressmaker's mannequin before Asta is reaching for him, and the Maverick's quiet laughter is cut off by the sudden sweetness of his kiss. Stepping in close without resistance, his tail curls loosely around the other man's calf, his hands winding around him in turn.

"Happy Birthday," he purrs as they part, offering Asta a Cheshire cat grin and reaching up to begin delicately removing the golden chains from the butcher's obsidian horns. Each one is teased away with near reverence, Danta collecting them - and the other golden accessories adorning the other man's outfit - and setting them carefully aside, though he doesn't expect to be apart from Asta in the slightest as he moves.

"As an extra gift, I made sure both of our schedules are clear for tomorrow." He grins, clever fingers drifting down now to the mahogany belt and its gold buckle, carefully unthreading it to draw it away. "As far as the Dusklight is concerned, we're a million miles away and not to be disturbed."

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

Those five words are perhaps the best news the butcher has heard in the recent days and as such, he indulges in the heat of the fireplace as it roars to life, reflecting on the dark pane of glass that makes up their windows within their room. Not that the butcher is too focused on it, not while he reaches for Danta to steal a gentle kiss, appreciative as it is a touch needy – as if he’s forgotten how to be so overwhelmingly needy after last season.

His arms drop to wrap loosely around his waist as they part, and Danta’s right in the assumption that he doesn’t particularly want to part from Danta at all. “Thank you, love. And thank you for the perfect outing.” He purrs softly, ducking his head a touch as Danta slips off the delicate chains and the other gold additions from his horns.

All the while his dark gaze scans his lover’s face and memorizes the gentle lines in his face, the way the light reflects against his skin, turning his blonde strands into liquid gold. “Gods you are incredible.” His arms squeeze him lightly before loosening again so he can slip the belt off and he busies himself with helping Danta slip out the corvid feather accessory from his hair. “How did you manage that?” He asks playfully, like he isn’t talking to the Theocrat or the owner of the Dusklight.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Any time," Danta croons in response. "I figured I probably owed you something very lowkey anyway, after last year's shenanigans. I hope it was intimate enough for you." He winks. "I didn't even tell the restaurant it was a special occasion. I thought we'd both hate any interruptions." Grinning and tilting his head into the long fingers that thread through his hair, it's only belatedly that Danta realises Asta is also helping to remove his trinkets, and he stills to allow the other man to ease the crow feathers away.

Setting the belt on the side table with the rest of their charming accoutrements, he reaches up now to gently loosen Asta's tie, leaning in for a slow, sweet kiss since he's able to tug the butcher closer with it. "Oh, you know," he purrs, grinning and unfastening Asta's top button, "I just wore a low-cut shirt and asked real nice. Batted my eyelashes and everything."

Making short work of the tie and the waistcoat after that, Danta reluctantly steps back to let the other man shrug out of the garment.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

“It was perfect.” He repeats without any hint of apprehension or stress like last year’s party had held. It felt good this year, despite the exhaustion, that if he did have to celebrate his birthday Danta had picked the best way in order to celebrate – with the quiet whispers of happy birthday quiet enough for the restaurant to not overhear and interrupt, just as Danta had determined.

Feeling Danta still enough he can slip the crow feathers from his hair, his fingertips stroke along his jaw gently as he goes to set it on the side table along with the golden trinkets and his belt, happily tugged forward to delve into the slow kiss that the butcher indulges with a certain kind of reverence. “Mm, well, it would have worked with me.” The butcher teases, shooting him a shark toothed grin in return as the waistcoat and tie are undone.

He slips out of them easily, folding them neatly and quickly before setting it aside. “And the thought may have inspired me to have found some last minute energy.” He pauses, tugging Danta closer this time to get him out of his suit and get up, fingers working deftly along buttons fabric until he can feel the warmth of his lover's skin.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Oho? Noted," Danta says with a breathless chuckle - not that he ever feels as though he has to convince or plead with the butcher for anything. Never say never, right? At least he's got another tool to add to his arsenal.

Watching appreciatively as Asta slips out of his waistcoat, as he's drawn back against him, Danta is forced to work around the other man as they try to race to undress each other; finally, with a scoff of laughter at their own ridiculousness, he finds himself victorious in opening his lover's dark shirt. His own state of undress at that point is irrelevant, and he shrugs out of his own clothing to let it drop carelessly to the floor, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of Asta's skin and the familiar maze of scars that span his chest.

"Has it, now?" Danta raises his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "You know, they say some light exercise after dinner is supposed to be good for you. We could go for a stroll through the Dusklight, or dance a waltz for a bit."

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

The playful grin shot Danta’s way once he’s noted what tools might work on him is just as amused. It’s not like the Maverick would have to try hard to do anything to convince him or plead with him, but he can absolutely see Danta pulling it out for minimal things just because he could and that it would likely spark some amount of fluster in the butcher’s face.

Either way, they race one another to undress, Asta shrugging out of his waistcoat and other adornments, even getting Danta out of his own to feel the soft silken, scar flecked skin beneath by the time that his lover becomes victorious in the unbuttoning of his shirt to reveal his own skin, mapped by the hard line of his own scars. He slips out of it easily and tugs Danta back in for a warm and tight hug, hands smoothing along his back and his head tilting to press his cheek against the other Ancient’s.

“Mm, we are already undressed. Something here would be beneficial I believe.” Whether that be a waltz or a simple game, the butcher isn’t that picky. He has Danta in his arms and that’s truly all that matters. “Perhaps a slow waltz or a game of sorts?” He muses, lips pressed into Danta’s golden crown.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

Inhaling deeply and releasing the breath in a soft sigh against the side of Asta's neck, Danta has no complaints as he's wrapped in the other man's arms, the heat kindling between them more than enough to chase away the lingering cold from the walk home. "Mm, you're right. I'm quite reluctant to put my clothes back on for some reason." Smirking a kiss along the curve of the butcher's jawline, Danta glances up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"A game?" he repeats, already shifting to drape himself more comfortably against Asta, his body swaying as if to lead them into a very, very lazy waltz. (It doesn't even count as a waltz, if he's honest, and they're just slow dancing, but whatever). "What kind of a game do you have in mind that would involve light exercise?" He wonders. "Hide and seek?"

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

“Mm, I cannot imagine why.” The sarcasm that drips from the butcher is warm as it is playful, even if he’s easily swayed into leaning into the kiss along his jawline, withdrawing only enough to catch the inquisitive look from the Maverick. The smile that breaks along his face is sweet as it is still sharp, arms tightening as they start to sway in a very slow dance (one he’s eternally grateful for).

“Since when does hide and seek require little effort?” He asks with a warm chuckle, imagining all the work that goes into having to hide during a short count down, let alone be the seeker. “Perhaps something like… Charades or a game of cards or.. something even simpler such as twenty questions or truth or dare?” He asks, nosing in to press a kiss to his cheekbone and his jaw, continuing the gentle sway.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"I imagine it takes zero effort if you're quite bad at hiding," Danta says with a chuckle. "Especially if we limited it to just this room. The best hiding place is up on the mezzanine, and I can't see either of us having the energy to go up there." Grinning and tilting his head into the sudden scatter of kisses, the Maverick considers Asta's options even while his hands trail slowly down the length of the other man's back.

"These games are requiring less and less exercise as you keep talking," he points out, starting to sway them inexorably towards their den. "I don't know if you could handle truth or dare with me, besides." Silencing any potential protests with a kiss aimed against Asta's mouth, Danta finally parts from the other man if only so he can finish stripping off his clothes.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone