the gold and the rust

// you knew who I was //

Running his tongue across his teeth and lifting his chin as Asta's fingers tug at the necktie, Danta's smile is as crooked as they come. "A peek into your subconscious, mm? I am flattered, Astaroth," he purrs, the tips of his fingers tickling across the patch of sensitive flesh he's found, rings glinting in the low light of the fire, tail flicking idly against the blankets. "Can't wait to see what I find--" he continues, only for his words to be cut short by the rise of the other man's hips.

Inhaling sharply, simultaneously surprised and delighted by this turn of events, thankfully there are no bindings or muzzles involved this time, and in an environment so comfortable, the risk (while never entirely diminished) is markedly lower than it had been in Torchline. "I was hoping you would say that," Danta murmurs against the thumb that brushes across his lower lip, reaching up to cover Astaroth's hand with his own.

It's with a sly smile and a hot tongue that he takes his thumb into his mouth, lavishing it with the sort of attention that might be mimicked elsewhere even as his hips roll again against the other man's. Only once he's certain he's made his point does the Maverick release him, leaning in for a hungry kiss instead - one that cuts short so he might begin his slow descent down the butcher's body.

Dantalion

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