the gold and the rust

// you knew who I was //

Far too inebriated, still, to be able to guess what consequences might spiral out from his decisions, it's a lucky thing that Astaroth possesses the self-control that he does, and Danta settles back as the other man moves, finding a large hand and calloused fingertips skating across his cheek instead. He stutters in a breath at the grind of the other man's hips, leaning into the warm touch and letting his eyes shut for a moment. The world gently sways and he's content to let it, at least until he feels Asta's lips press against his own once more.

Moaning into the kiss and letting his other arm loop about his shoulders as well, the Maverick is a warm and malleable presence beneath the butcher, and whilst the heat is overwhelming and more than welcome, it will eventually serve to be his undoing. One glass of water, alas, is not enough to drag Danta back from the precipice of a little too drunk to function, and now that he's horizontal and comfortable and pinned against familiar sheets, the lure of sleep begins to beckon.

Still, he doesn't pass out, per say, but as his kisses migrate from Astaroth's lips to his jaw and his neck, the other man might feel the way they grow feather light, or the way the rest of his limbs grow heavier.

Dantalion

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