don't need love when it comes in a bottle

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

He’s attentive and focused, ensuring that the second Danta’s sunk into his arms that he adjusts the pillows into the perfect position, ensuring his antlers don’t shred the feathery bedding. His tail winds around his lover’s leg, offering an additional point of connection even if his legs tangle with Danta’s and his arms finally find their space in against the blonde’s shoulders and the small of his back, stroking idle little designs into his scarred skin.

“I am not sure.” He admits, the spaded tip of his tail flitting a touch anxiously as he recalls. “One moment Flora and Kaisel were saying hello and being generally fine, the next? Kaisel had thrown his drink on me and while I was intending on brushing it off as an accident, he got in my face.” His head sinks in to press against the golden crown of the other Ancient, absent of any sharp prisms of horns that could stab his cheek as he buries his face into it to breathe in the smoke, wine, and sage scent.

“Then, after, he snapped out of it and could not figure out where I was.” Ah, but Danta had been there at that point – physically, if not mentally. He wouldn’t blame him if he couldn't remember that part.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

Every warm touch is a reminder of the things he wasn't able to see through the shadows and fire and skeletal grins, Danta melting into the affection like a man starved for it. Usually not one to suffer needless fuss, tonight is clearly the exception to any and every rule he has for himself, the Maverick nuzzling closer as Asta starts to explain the madness at the festival.

Frowning and letting his own hands move in a slow, idle stroke along Asta's back, it's with a puzzled and frustrated little sigh that he can offer little more than a shrug. "The blood moon makes people do funny things," he says slowly, relishing in the heat building between them now, chasing the pallor from his skin and warming him through at last.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, though. I bet he'll think twice before even coming near you next time..." And that will be mildly entertaining, he's sure - tomorrow. Tonight Danta would prefer to keep this version of the butcher in the front of his mind.

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

A goosebump stream of a shiver follows Danta’s touch along his back as the butcher listens to the suggestion that the Blood Moon made people do funny things – deciding that, perhaps, it had been a chaotic influence that had caused him to launch his drink all across the butcher, and that maybe, Asta had overreacted. His head tucks in a little bit more against the golden strands of his lover’s crown of hair, a soft exhale leaving him as he buries his face. “Mm, more than likely.” He laments over the fact that Kaisel would think twice before coming near him.

He probably shouldn’t have fucked around if he didn’t want to find out, though. “Perhaps I overreacted.” He also admits, in a quieter hum so that the spirits haunting the room wouldn’t be able to hear it, but that Danta would – because it was rare occasions when the butcher admits even he had had reacted disproportionately, even though it had to do with his clothes. Which for many, that was a reason to lose a finger or two.

But Kaisel was Flora’s, and the longer he thinks about the protections in place for the little shit, the more he sinks into Danta with a soft sigh. “How was the bonfire hop?” He tries to switch the subject, poorly if he had to guess.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"I'll message Flora in the morning," Danta decides, voice still half muffled against the warmth of Asta's chest, but he's starting to sound more sober the longer they lay here curled against one another. "See how she and her beau are doing. Maybe we can meet up if they aren't too upset with us." Smiling sadly, he finally peeps up towards Asta's face at last, enough to aim a soft kiss against the scruff of his jaw.

"If it had just been a drink? Maybe. But you thought he was after a fight." And whether or not it had been overkill, Asta's haunt had done enough to ensure that no physical blows were thrown around, no blood spilled. Just some good old fashioned horror, however deeply it might have gotten under his skin. "We'll work it out," he says softly, sneaking another kiss to the butcher's cheek before he relaxes again.

Huffing something that tries to be a laugh to hear the clumsy change of subject, Danta settles back against the butcher and nods. "It was good. You should've come with me." Maybe then Kai would have tried to fight someone else.

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

“I can message her, darling.” The butcher hums, not wanting the Maverick to have to send a letter for something that he had done. And besides, he could clean his outfit – it wasn’t completely lost. And Kaisel hadn’t actually thrown a punch. “If you are up for it.” He offers after a second in terms of getting together if they weren’t upset.

His head tilts slightly to lean into the kiss pressed to his jaw and cheek, allowing him a moment to press a series of kisses to his temple and his cheeks, the scruff of his beard almost scratchy where he drags it against the smooth skin of his lover’s cheek once Danta’s already supplied enough kisses to bring warmth into the recesses of his heart.

Hearing the brief huff of the laugh that leaves his lover for the subject change, the butcher nods gently. “I should have. Instead I had three more shots of absinthe.” He hums, head tilting slightly before he’s nosing a kiss to his forehead. “I could really use a fire bath, however.” He decides, opening his dark gaze to glance at the roaring fireplace as if debating carrying Danta to it where they can settle in the heart of the large fireplace and just soak in pure flame.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"I want to," Danta admits quietly; it might be something Asta had done but it was also something he wasn't able to step in and get between - not like Flora had been able to do with Kaisel. Sending something to the Doubletake to check on things now would at least he could do to feel as if he was present in that moment, if very much not accounted for. "And I should be. So long as we don't have to go flying anywhere in this weather."

Trying and failing to hide his scoff of laughter as Asta opts to assault him with further kisses, one of Danta's hands slips around from the butcher's shoulders to cup his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheek. "Three?" he repeats with a raise of his eyebrows. "Well I'm not sayin that might have also impacted your reaction, but..."

Smiling faintly, he's about to lean in for a proper kiss when Asta hits him with the suggestion of a fire bath, Danta sagging against his lover and letting out a groan of pure need for it. "Gods, that does sound good," he agrees. "You go, I'll follow when you're comfortable." Because the fireplace here is a lot smaller than the one in the Dusklight.

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

He’s learned to concede – even if he thinks that it shouldn’t be Danta’s place to constantly have to reach out on his behalf when something goes wrong, he knows that it’s just as important for Danta in those instances to feel as though he’s also being heard. So he leans in to pepper him with kisses after he hums a quiet agreement of not flying in this shitty weather.

Hearing the scoff of laughter his lover tries to hide loosens the held tension in his bones, his muscles relaxing as Danta’s hand cups his jaw and his thumb brushes against his cheek, allowing him to peer down at him with a small twitch of a smile on his lips – deepening familiar smile lines. “It did not help.” He mumbles a little, his smile twitching brighter before he’s making the suggestion of a fire bath.

He feels the blonde sag against him and his fingers twitch against his back as if prepping to carry him. “Mm, do not take too long to join me.” He murmurs, shifting slightly so that he cranes over his lover, reaching up with a hand to brush away loose strands of blonde before he claims a real and proper kiss.

It isn’t one he makes short, either, withdrawing when it feels appropriate to even if he’s still reluctant about it. His dark gaze glitters with his affection and apology, and a surprising sober exterior as if all of his worrying had cut through the alcohol like a hot knife in butter. He draws the fire up a bit brighter once he slips from the bed and the nest of blankets, his figure shrouded by the dark with the flame behind him. Lowering himself down toward the fireplace, he sticks his hands into the ash and soot with a sigh of relief, slipping in all the way to his elbow.

Then, when he thinks he’s moved enough things around within the flame, he shifts to sit against it, half in the flame, unable to fold his long legs into the space, at the very least his chest is warm enough that he beckons Danta over.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"Well, at least you probably won't be asked to do a puppet show any time soon," Danta says with a crooked smile; not that he doesn't think the other man would quite enjoy himself, especially if it was for Flora and her new squeeze. But he doubts Kai will want to see Asta's shadows again for a very long while after what had happened.

"I won't," he promises, shifting to lay flat on his back as the butcher moves over him, both surprised and not to feel the other man's lips against his own. Finding himself craving that sort of kiss more than he'd expected, Danta's arm hooks gently around Asta's shoulders, fingers playing through the tips of his dark hair as he succumbs to the butcher's affections.

Left breathless when Asta finally peels himself away, the Maverick watches with soft blue eyes as he approaches the fire. Still, he dutifully stays put until he other man is comfortable, and only then does he slink out of bed to join him. Not quite as lanky as his lover but still with no chance of folding himself comfortably into the fire, he opts to sit beside Asta within the flames instead, leaning over to press a feather soft kiss to his bare shoulder.

"Better?" he asks without drawing away, instead shifting to bully himself beneath the butcher's arm.

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

He likely wouldn’t be asked any time soon – not after he’d let all of them unleash earlier today. Though, perhaps it also gives away the fact that his puppet show is less to do with the shadows and silly stories than it does to become a horror movie – which means it’s likely a never again occurrence unless he could get away with it. But for now, he doesn’t feel like he can. He doesn’t even really feel like he wants to.

Which is saying a lot.

So, he presses into the kiss with all the appreciation and desire and adoration he has within him for the man beneath him before he’s forced to withdraw and cling to the sensation of the fingers in his hair, the weight of Danta’s arm around his neck, choosing to instead replace it with the kiss of fire from the fireplace that reaches out to brush against his shoulders and arms alike, even licking against the dark strands of his hair that have spread across his shoulders and back.

Once he’s settled, his dark gaze tracks Danta as he slinks out of the bed to join him, sitting beside him in the ash and comfort, leaning a touch into his space when he presses a too soft kiss to his shoulder. “Much.” He hums on a breath of relief, jostled against the stone and brick of the fireplace when Danta bullies himself under his arm. Easily looping it across his shoulders, the butcher tugs him in and squeezes him lightly, tilting his head into the flame to press another kiss to his lover – one wreathed in the very same fire they’re wrapped up in.

His free hand seeks out the other Ancient’s hand and he withdraws to inspect it and ensure every portion of grey has started to turn back to a normal color with the flame pouring around them. "Are you warming up well, my love?" He asks softly as a piece of wood cracks behind them.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"Good," Danta says with a smile made hazy by the intensity of the heat searing through his bones, drawn flush against Asta's side without complaint. Surprised to find his mouth caught in a kiss a second time - but by no means upset about it - the longer they sit up here in this ghoulish little suite with nothing but the fire and the patter of rain outside, the more the Maverick feels like he's getting a handle back on himself.

Smiling helplessly in the wake of Asta's lips, he surrenders his hand all too willingly; the butcher will hopefully be pleased to note that Danta's fingers are without even a hint of grey now, squeezing around his own as they're inspected. "Very much so," he assures him, and if and when Asta releases his hand, he'll slip it around the other man's waist.

"Thank you for looking for me," he says softly, after a few minutes of the wood cracking and popping in the grate behind them. "I probably would have been out there until I was a statue otherwise."

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

The more Danta becomes himself, the more relaxed Asta becomes – the more he can put aside the disaster that Kaisel had started at the Blood Moon festival and can look forward to getting everything back to normal for the Maverick. And perhaps, maybe, he needs to start using some semblances of his haunt that aren’t just the shadows and ghouls, but alterations to his appearance in his face to help with Danta’s exposure.

Not tonight, though. Not for a while, he imagines. So instead, he focuses on inspecting his lover’s hand to find it back to normal, tipped with the usual, pink, peachy hue that the butcher has come to expect. His own fingers are wreathed in ash from where he’d maneuvered the items in the fireplace. “Good.” He hums, drawing quieter as he feels the warmth of Danta’s hand at his hip and he curls slightly toward his lover.

His arm tightens a little around his shoulders, the hand that had snatched his up lifts to his cheek. “You are welcome.” He says softly, quieter before he smiles brighter. “I will always look for you, love. You never need to worry about that.” Two sides of the same coin, after all. “Speaking of… I suppose I should tell you to keep your weekend clear. We have plans, if you are up for them.” His chin dips, brows lifting lightly as his grin brightens.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

Leaning immediately into the hand that cups his cheek, Danta's head turns to press kisses to the butcher's ash-bitten fingertips, unable and unwilling to stop the smile that creeps across his face. "I believe it," he mumbles, eyes closing briefly until Asta mentions that, apparently, they have plans that weekend. Furrowing his brows and blinking back up at his lover, evidently he thinks it's something he's forgotten about rather than something Asta has arranged himself.

"...Temple stuff?" he guesses. "Or were we flying somewhere...? I don't remember, sorry." With another kiss to the butcher's palm, Danta shifts in the fire to burrow himself closer, tossing his legs across Asta's lap and letting his head loll back against his shoulder. "Gods, I love you," he whispers, the words quiet and warm and for Asta's ears only. "I hope you never doubt that, even if I have to take a timeout when you're too spooky."

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

There’s warmth interjected into his fingers when Danta presses those kisses against the ash darkened fingertips. A soft smile escapes him as he lays out the mention of plans – hoping selfishly that he’s up for them once they fall from his lips. But it swings wildly opposite when Danta grows confused, almost as if it had been a plan they’d made together that he’d merely forgotten.

His arm tightens around his lover’s shoulder, his smile widening in a way that he hopes comes off as comforting as the kiss to his palm is placed, his fingertips extending to brush gently against his neck as the blonde Ancient burrows closer. “I had not told you the plans, so you did not forget.” He says a little softly, shifting his legs to better accommodate the way Danta drapes against him.

He's about to tell him the gift he’s planned, but the whisper is warm and indulgent and soothes any lingering barbs of worry that have barnacled to the insides of himself and he leans in to nuzzle his lover’s cheek. “I never doubt it, my Wasp.” He breathes softly, a whisper back. “And I love you too.” He adds before punctuating the answer with another soft kiss, indulging in the warmth of the fire against his skin and the Maverick pressed against him. “The plans this weekend is a birthday gift for you, and if you would like I can indulge your sweeping curiosity of it.” There’s a touch of cockiness and arrogance in the low thrum of his voice, as if anticipating the sheer fact that the Maverick is one that would prefer his gifts unwrapped for the sheer fact that it meant he could get to it quicker than having to unbox something.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"You didn't? Oh - phew," Danta says, his relieved sigh coming out as more of a laugh, his eyes slipping shut for a moment to enjoy the radiating warmth of Asta's body pressed against his own, the way his arm squeezes around his shoulders. "Good," he adds, to hear that the butcher doesn't doubt his feelings even at his lowest moments, Danta blinking his eyes back open to glance back up at the other man just as the kiss lands against his lips.

Humming a mix of surprise and enjoyment, his fingers softly patter up and against the side of Asta's neck as if to ensure he doesn't draw away before the Maverick is ready. When he does though, at last, it's with the sort of arrogant purr to his voice that has all parts of Danta already sitting up and taking notice. "A birthday gift?" he echoes. "Did I not already have that with my trip to King's End?"

Not that he's going to complain or discourage the other man - not with how quietly excited he seems, and Danta eventually grins a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I would like," he confirms. "Very much so. I love surprises, but I love instant gratification even more."

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now