hiding in plain sight

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

The croon is met with a knowing grin, a bounce of his brows as if to prove the point further. Perhaps he’d spent plenty of time crafting just what to say at the right time, but here at this present moment, the butcher has managed to be both honest and utilizing the cards, content to keep Danta precisely where he wants him, still in his lap with his arms wound around him as if that was the only thing he cared about.

(We’re not going to look into that too deeply, obviously.)

“None, however…” He trails off because he doesn’t have a good answer to that question. A subconscious part of him seems to say because it’s from me as if that made the entire difference, but that would be admitting things the butcher doesn’t even recognize within himself as anything out of place.

Snorting, because he’s effectively cut off from any follow through with the nip to his lower lip, Astaroth twists just enough to help Danta reach into the bedside table, where there certainly would be a couple of hand towels stashed away, while he parts from Danta’s chest just enough to give him enough room to clean them both up. “How might I make it come across more sincere?” He teases, dark eyes focusing intensely on the other man’s face.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //