honey, ask me, I should know
Rolling his eyes - whether he's joking or not, Danta knew elite would have a nice ring to it for the butcher - but deigning not to comment, the Maverick instead relaxes back in to enjoy the soft and idle touches running across his back and shoulders. It's the sort of affection he'd balk at were they upright and in public, but here and now, gods but nothing seems to matter but the continued warmth and the sleepy presence beside him.
Which is precisely why it's a surprise (despite the fact that he'd instigated it with his question) when Astaroth shifts and moves, and the protest is already on his lips as he's pinned in bed, only to find himself promptly silenced by the other man's kiss. Frowning but not seeming at all put out by it, Danta glares after Asta as he leaves, and then draws the blankets over his head.
By the time the butcher returns, at least, the Maverick pulls himself into a reluctant sitting position, the blanket still around his shoulders and his fair hair a desperate mess around his horns. "Mm, I plan to," he grumbles, barely waiting for Asta to shrug out of his shirt and sit down before shuffling to sit behind him, pressed against his back and holding out the glass expectantly for the wine.
"Thanks," he adds with a belated smile, snagging a slice of apple drizzled with honey to enjoy even as his head lolls back against the other man's good shoulder. "How is it out there? Busy? I bet the staff were all dying to get a look at you."
just to sit outside your door
