the gold and the rust

// you knew who I was //

Ah indeed, and Danta might have commented as much if his lips weren't otherwise occupied. Instead he sinks into the sheets, happily blanketed by the other man, his hips lifting to tease and grind against him given that they are both still very much clothed (from the waist down in the Maverick's case, anyway). Equally as hungry for the kiss, his fingers reach up to twist through dark hair and to tease at the chains still adorning Asta's horns.

His free hand meanwhile presses down the length of the other man's chest, savouring the feel of fabric and buttons before he goes about trying to unfasten them. It's a difficult thing to accomplish one-handed, drunk and very much distracted, and Danta is forced to pause for breath as he resists the urge to simply tear the shirt open. He won't be forgiven for that, he feels.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //