// with our one foot in the grave //
“Of course you do.” The butcher hums, though knowing fully well the only one that could make him beg was the man settled on the edge of the tub. A realization that settles in those cracks in the wall recently reinforced.
He sinks into the tub comfortably, once his sore muscles start to soak up the heat, and he leans back enough to rest his head against the back of the tub, dark eyes watching the Maverick’s hand dip into the water and add additional heat, so much that it has his tail curling in delight, the wet spaded edge brushing gently against the other man’s arm.
“If I can put one on you? I have put many over the years.” And some as of late had been far more intimate. Either way, the banter is easy, it’s comfortable, it doesn’t let him think about everything he’d endured. At least, not until that hot hand brushes against his cheek and his blink stutters as he glances up to meet the Maverick’s blue gaze, the softness of his tone, surprised to hear such a thing as much as Danta’s surprised it’s left his lips.
Nodding, his tongue clicks before he speaks. “I know, darling.” He’d said it in so little words yesterday, in the way he held him at the windowsill, at the way he’d taken care of him. “It is an opportunity and a reminder for me that it will not happen again.” He shrugs slightly, before his own heated hand lifts to run gently along Danta’s forearm, a light little tug to see if he wants to get in, too.
“What do you intend to talk to her about?” He asks, suddenly curious, dark honey eyes locked on Danta’s face.
He sinks into the tub comfortably, once his sore muscles start to soak up the heat, and he leans back enough to rest his head against the back of the tub, dark eyes watching the Maverick’s hand dip into the water and add additional heat, so much that it has his tail curling in delight, the wet spaded edge brushing gently against the other man’s arm.
“If I can put one on you? I have put many over the years.” And some as of late had been far more intimate. Either way, the banter is easy, it’s comfortable, it doesn’t let him think about everything he’d endured. At least, not until that hot hand brushes against his cheek and his blink stutters as he glances up to meet the Maverick’s blue gaze, the softness of his tone, surprised to hear such a thing as much as Danta’s surprised it’s left his lips.
Nodding, his tongue clicks before he speaks. “I know, darling.” He’d said it in so little words yesterday, in the way he held him at the windowsill, at the way he’d taken care of him. “It is an opportunity and a reminder for me that it will not happen again.” He shrugs slightly, before his own heated hand lifts to run gently along Danta’s forearm, a light little tug to see if he wants to get in, too.
“What do you intend to talk to her about?” He asks, suddenly curious, dark honey eyes locked on Danta’s face.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
