honey, ask me, I should know
"Mm, and if your imagination gets bored with that, just add being Theocrat into it as well," Danta mutters, preening and shifting under the other man's attentions, the nips to his ear, the nuzzles against his jaw and cheek. Taking another long sip of his wine - and, like Asta, finishing the glass - he stretches enough to set it down beside the other man's before both arms slip around the butcher, treating him as an impromptu hot water bottle.
The smile that curls across the Maverick's lips is one of indulgent rebellion as he hears Asta's opinion on the party they're missing and the shenanigans that might go on out from under the butcher's watchful eye. "Mm, I suppose that's a good point. Or at least if they don't manage, we don't hear about it." But then perhaps they should employ an apprentice for Astaroth to train. Something to consider in a time that isn't now.
Sitting up a fraction as the other man turns, Danta nips playfully at the fingers that try to fuss over his hair before leaning into the hand that grazes across his jaw, indulgent of this particular touch. "Good," he purrs, his lips brushing carefully over the soft skin just before the dark stitching. "Then it's guaranteed to be a good night."
just to sit outside your door
