in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
Later Danta might realise how close he's come to having his throat ripped out, but for the here and now he's only just about capable of coherent thought again, such that as Asta grips his jaw and pours a kiss against his lips, he offers little more than a hoarse moan in return. The tang of blood on the other man's tongue is almost addictive, granted, and although he does need to clean up, for now he melts into the sensation, his arms chasing possessively around Asta's shoulders, the need to breathe secondary to the press of lips and tongue.
It does win out eventually, though, and it's with his chest heaving that he parts from the other man, head lolling back into the pillows. "Fuck," he whispers, patting the bed for an errant item of clothing - it's his own shirt, don't worry - to wipe away the evidence of the pleasure Asta has dragged from him.
"Fuck," he says again, and this time the words are painted around a smile. Discarding the shirt and shifting enough to roll onto his side, he clearly has no intention of letting the other man go, nosing against his dark hair and letting his fingers trace the tips oil-black horns.
It does win out eventually, though, and it's with his chest heaving that he parts from the other man, head lolling back into the pillows. "Fuck," he whispers, patting the bed for an errant item of clothing - it's his own shirt, don't worry - to wipe away the evidence of the pleasure Asta has dragged from him.
"Fuck," he says again, and this time the words are painted around a smile. Discarding the shirt and shifting enough to roll onto his side, he clearly has no intention of letting the other man go, nosing against his dark hair and letting his fingers trace the tips oil-black horns.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
