[SE] I wanna show you something

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

The heat has sunk into the Last Whisper, drawn down into the bones and brick of the Dusklight. It radiates, drawn in like a breath that’s held too long, but one that the butcher absolutely thrives in. Especially right now, with very little plans in mind aside from wasting time away with his fiancé. It isn’t really wasting time, as far as Asta’s concerned, having very little other ways he’d prefer to spend time these days anyway.

They’ve slept in, long enough to wash away the adventures in the jungle and emotional gymnastics the proposal had been, and he’s half curled up into Danta’s elbow he thinks when the sun beams him directly into his eyes. Drawn awake by the blinding light, its to a scowl on his face that the butcher promptly blinds himself when he opens his eyes to try and see what the cause is, only to huff a little sound and twist his head to where he can press his eyes and face into Danta’s shoulder.

He’s extremely unwilling to part from the warmth of the bed and the blankets tossed around, but he does shift himself to sit up a little more fully, his hand running through his sleep tossed hair to try and tug the knots out of it. It’s gotten long again, likely needs a trim here in the future, but for now he’s content to quietly (as much as he can, at least), slowly come to terms with being awake.

Dark eyes drop to take in the Maverick, the play of the sun that hasn’t hit his face yet (he’s a lucky man, in more ways than one), and he finds he can’t help himself but to admire him and just how lucky he is. Trying hard as he can to avoid waking the other Ancient, lest he’s already starting to wake up, he lets his hand start to smooth back the golden strands of his hair with gentle strokes, deftly avoiding the sharp tines of diamond that spread a prismatic sheen on the ceiling just above them.

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

It always takes him by surprise, how tired he is when they return home to where things are familiar, where there's routine and all of his creature comforts are within easy reach. Danta has slept hard throughout the night, curled into his lover and shifting only very slightly when Asta arranges himself into a sitting position. He's lucky to still be mostly in the shade for now, his breathing deep and soft, his naked body utterly relaxed in the mess of furs and blankets.

The hand in his hair has him huffing out a soft sigh, Danta turning instinctively into the touch, but it isn't quite enough to ferry him back into wakefulness. Even if his eyes peek open, the only thing he really sees is a suitable pillow (it's Asta's lap), the Maverick promptly rolling to settle his head there, exposing the back of his neck for further fuss. It's only unfortunate that the movement also puts him directly in the sun's line of fire, and he groans an instant complaint wrapped in regret as it beams him in the face.

Scrunching his nose and flailing an arm to bury his head in, clearly he isn't quite as ready to face the day as his fiance.

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

Between the ease of the morning and the low thrum of the Dusklight swift at work beneath them, the butcher finds the backdrop far more comforting than he might actually verbalize. It’s that comfort that has him waking up more to take this moment in – to scan his lover’s face and see the smoothness of his skin where at times a wry smile and the playful bounce of his brows would create that fine wrinkle line.

Like this, though, as he’s drawing his thumb across his hair in sooth and gentle strokes, he wakes him up enough accidentally to still in his bemused surprise, hand hovering over Danta’s head as he readjusts only to promptly land right in his lap and precisely where the sun can beam him into his face. The groan has the butcher stifling a quiet laugh, his grin widening even as his tail sweeps out from under the fold of a blanket to rise and hover where the shadow the spaded tip casts can blot out the sun from his eyes directly.

His hand lowers again, running through the liquid gold and brushing his fingertips along the back of his lover’s neck in smooth strokes, indulging in the closeness and ease of his morning so far, more invigorating than any of the teas on their shelf. “Shh, I will save you darling.” Comes the thickly accented whisper, mischievous as if the sun is a threat and his lover is suddenly at risk of becoming Icarus.

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

Squinting out from the shade of his arm to find his face blessedly shielded from the glare of the sun, Danta manages a small but grateful smile up to Asta before he settles again - mainly because the butcher has chosen about now to skim his fingers along the back of his neck and up through his hair. "My hero," he purrs, tilting his head down and remaining there for a long few moments, the tip of his tail flicking this way and that in his comfort.

There are much worse ways to wake up, he decides, and even as the combination of Asta's touch and the warmth of the sunlight do draw him towards true wakefulness, Danta has no intention of going far. In fact, when he moves it's to tuck himself closer if anything; with a blanket still tangled around his waist and shoulders, he all but crawls up and into Asta's lap to bury his head in the crook of his neck.

He's even kind enough to glamour his horns so as not to skewer the other man, inhaling a long, deep breath of smoke and blood and honey and then relaxing fully against him. "Morning," he says, voice muffled, fingers playing through the tips of Asta's dark hair.

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

The small smile is seen only in the way Danta’s cheeks puff up with the movement, the brief flash of fangs as his fingers drop to brush a loving touch against his lover’s neck. “Always, love.” Asta hums softly, settled in comfortably enough to let Danta curl back into his lap and expose the sensitive skin waiting against the back of his neck, something the butcher takes advantage of with the patterns he paints into his skin as he takes in the quiet delight.

He does let him doze further, if he decides, but as Danta starts to move and tuck himself closer to him, the butcher can’t help the soft lilt of the smile that’s edged into the wrinkles on his face as he makes room for him and straightens his back so that they’re chest to chest, his head tilted enough to give him space against his neck.

Once he feels the horns melt away, he nuzzles his cheek into the golden crown of his fiancé, his hands wrapping around his middle beneath the blanket to let his long fingers stretch out and drag a gentle caress from the small of his back up to his shoulder blades and over every scar in between. “Good morning, darling. How did you sleep?” He asks, pressing a half kiss to his forehead (or wherever he can reach, truthfully), not wanting to give up the feeling of the Maverick’s hands in his hair too much.

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

Asta's fingers are like lines of fire down the length of his spine, and Danta hums something incoherent but indulgently pleased as he arches his back and presses himself further against the butcher's body. All but straddling his lap and feeling needy and unapologetic about it, the Maverick exhales in a deep, satisfied sigh and loops his arms more tightly around the other man.

"Good morning," he replies, voice muffled by the crook of Asta's neck, his fingers teasing further into the dark silk of his hair where he knows he likes to be touched best. "I slept like the dead, it was great," he continues, turning his head just enough to be able to speak properly, though his eyes have long slipped shut again. "I love Torchline, but waking up to the sea made me feel like I was missing out on the day," he admits.

Here in the quiet, cozy dark of their den, the only day to have is right here, and if they are needed at all, the Dusklight knows where to find them.

"How about you?" He yawns.

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

Ever indulgent and attentive, the butcher’s hands continue to draw little designs in the Theocrat’s back, dragged over raised scar tissue and the bump and hollows of bone, even if they grow a touch distracted by the sensation of Danta’s fingers in his hair. He can’t help but to tilt his head ever so slightly into it, not needing to do it much given that the other Ancient knows exactly where to press his fingers into.

“Mm, I can contest to that.” The butcher says with a warm and gentle laugh. He’d woken up before the Maverick, after all, and had the opportunity to witness him in his limp state. “It is nice to be home.” Vacation was great, obviously, even better than the previous ones if he’s being honest, but there was nothing quite like waking up in their den, warm and content where everything they could possibly need was essentially within an arms reach.

As for how he is? Danta will feel the tug of the smile on his face, the huff of a warm breath against his cheek. “Oh, just like the dead as well. At least until the sun decided to rise right before my eyes." The dramatic drawl edges in a soft whine, lamenting the idea of its audacity and precisely the reason he’d blocked it out for Danta when it tried to do the same for him.

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Mm, though I bet we end up missing how hot it is," Danta agrees with a half smile - however nice it might be to be home, Torchline and The Climb really do have the monopoly on being the right temperature for Longheat. "Maybe we can go and sit in front of the fire for breakfast. We could even make s'mores," he suggests, peeping up at Asta just enough to bob his eyebrows at him. No, the Maverick is not especially a fan of sweet things, especially not sticky, marshmallow sweet, but at the same time the idea of melting things over an open flame is exciting.

To hear that Asta had been sleeping just as peacefully before the sunlight had skewered him in the eyes has Danta laughing softly, though he tries to hide it with kisses pressed against the other Ancient's throat and jawline. "How rude of it," he purrs, sitting up enough to continue his line of kisses across the butcher's cheek before finally landing one against his lips. "You want me to go and tie the curtains shut?"

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

“Oh I missed that the second we got onto the Skyship, darling.” The butcher hums with a nostalgic laugh, a soft and breathy thing as Danta continues to offer a suggestion – one he latches onto while he turns slightly to press his lips to his fiance’s forehead before he settles in again and finally answers the Maverick’s idea. “That sounds divine.” He very nearly groans, the markers for it edging into his words and the low thrum of his voice.

He can feel the laughter that sprinkles through the kisses he’s littered with, while Asta’s fingers continue to drag little smooth shapes and comfort up and down his lover’s spine, reverent and attentive even as Danta does his best to distract him when he finally claims his lips. He presses into the kiss back before withdrawing and his fingers dig in a touch. “No, no. Unfortunately for you, darling, I do not intend on letting you out of my grasp.” He bounces his brows, his grin blooming wider along his face.

Never fear, though, because the idea of smores and sitting in front of the fire (if not in the fire), has the butcher shifting them slightly toward the edge of the bed, content to carry Danta up and away from their bed, snagging a blanket in the process. He leaves the window open, the sun feeling like it’s worth having for how little of it they had last season, and besides they’ll have the shade of where their fireplace sits to hunker down.

And he does just that. His tail weaves around one of the carts with wheels on it, dragging it along with them so that once he sits them both down he can snag the kettle and get it heating on the fire, nestled in as they are now with a majority of things they’ll need within reach. "How is this, darling?"

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Mm, I thought you'd like it," Danta agrees with a grin, scritching his fingers affectionately through Asta's hair and shivering as the butcher's own affection crackles down his spine like a livewire. Humming a note of confusion against his lips - because of course the Maverick doesn't understand how he's expected to hand deliver s'mores into Asta's mouth if he isn't able to go anywhere to make them - his bemusement ends in a huff of laughter as he feels the other man shift to the edge of the bed.

His long legs hook around the butcher's hips to make it as easy as possible to cart him around, Danta's head lolling against his shoulder and his eyes closing for a second to simply enjoy the ease of the morning. "You are on a mission I see," he purrs, able to hear the rattle of wheels and the crackle of the fireplace; by the time he's set down among the blankets it's already warmer than it had been in bed, and Danta is very much satisfied.

"This is perfect," he declares, pointedly staring at Asta's backside as he leans over to set the kettle up. "The view is the best part."

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

“You know me so well.” The butcher hums as he hoists Danta up to his chest, cradling him close and using his tail to snag the cart that harbors the vast majority of things they’ll need. It isn’t too hard to juggle it all, least of all Danta when he’s comfortable – at times as easy as a stuffed animal, while others tended to be more like trying to get a cat to take a bath. “Of course I am. It has the goal of indulging us in all the warmth of Torchline without leaving our room.” He grins, the sensation likely felt against Danta’s temple as he starts to set him down.

Parting, very much reluctantly while he gets the kettle ready, he sets it in the flame with a warm laugh as he feels his fiance’s eyes on him. “Mm, is it?” He asks, perhaps taunting his lover a smidge longer as his scarlet tail wags at just the tip, enough that he can add a little flare of his peter pan in the shadow his tail casts to lightly nudge the graham cracker container over toward Danta before he turns back around and smirks.

“Now, my darling fiancé, would you like the honors of impaling the marshmallows?” He shoots the other Ancient a playful grin as the flame crackles as a background hum, glinting the variety of fire pokers that hardly ever get used when they could just readjust whatever log with their hands - impervious as they are to the flame.

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Keep this up and I'll be demanding we relocate our den to directly in front of the fireplace," Danta teases, his tail waving its amusement as they settle before the popping embers. "Then again I suppose we should save that for Deepfrost when we need it the most." Leaning back on his elbows and bouncing his eyebrows in response to the butcher's question, he does snag at the cracker container as it's pushed towards him by a helpful shadow, eventually stretching and sitting himself back up.

"Oho, I'm going to impale the fuck out of those marshmallows," he confirms in a purr of delight, grabbing the pokers and the package of sweet treats so he can commence with his murder. "I assume you are on chocolate duty?" He raises his eyebrows across to the butcher; Asta is very good at chocolate duty in his opinion, given that he's certain the other man has stashes of it hidden all around the Dusklight in case of emergencies.

Soon enough though Danta is distracted with his marshmallows, his bare toes wiggling in the open flames as he skewers each one until they have four pokers locked and loaded and a pile of fresh mallows to reload them. "I'm pleased to report these are ready for toasting."

Dantalion

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

// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //

A warm laugh leaves him, casting a glance over toward his fiance as he collects the items they need to make the smores. “We can rearrange toward the end of Leafchange before I am too exhausted to function.” He suggests, because the sentiment is precisely the same. They did need it more in Deepfrost, and Asta especially – now that he knows what to expect of the next upcoming season – knows he needs it immensely in the coldest winter month.

Grinning brighter, though, all sharp teeth and cheshire amusement, he hands off the marshmallows for Danta to impale with the pokers. “Indeed, darling, I am.” He confirms swiftly, twisting to snag the bag of chocolate he’s kept stashed away on the bottom of the cart. Twisting back, his tail curls around him to let the ashen tip settle in the fire that blooms bright in the fireplace while he diligently and meticulously preps the pieces of chocolate he’s broken the bar up into on the graham crackers, awaiting a toasty marshmallow bed to sit on.

It’s perfect timing with Danta’s duty completed, because the kettle begins to whistle as well and it allows him to remove it to make room for the Maverick’s sweet fluffy treats to start roasting while he busies himself then to prep the tea. “It is all yours, love.” The fire, he means, taking a few more minutes to let the tea steep and sweeten his up far more than Danta’s preference, before he’s handing the beautiful crimson cup to his fiance and snags the golden rimmed black one for himself and open a free hand to take two of the pokers to roast. “The tea is a new coconut chai blend I found in Torchline.”

Astaroth

// and i'll paint it red //

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Ooh, now that's an idea," Danta chirps, smiling over his shoulder at Asta as he reaches for his not-so-sneaky chocolate at the bottom of the cart. "We'll come up the week before the end of the season when you're a little less restless but before you can fully hibernate," he decides, grinning and grabbing two of the pokers for himself when Asta removes the singing kettle from the fire. The urge to plunge the mallows directly into the flames is nearly impossible to resist, but with their breakfast on the line, the Maverick manages to keep things on the golden side of toasted.

"A coconut chai? I didn't think you had time to drop by your favourite teahouse while we were on vacation," he says with a fanged grin, accepting his cup and sipping at it immediately, humming his approval. "Honestly, for that last part of it I'm surprised we got anything done but each other." And he's not sorry about it either.

"Okay, get 'em," he announces as he pulls his marshmallows from the fire, holding them expectantly for Asta to sandwich each one between crackers.

Dantalion

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