reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
“That depends entirely on you.” Astaroth purrs, amused with the wordplay so far, reiterating the very same points, repeating the very same words, just jumbled and bounced around to mean entirely different things. It’s amusement that lingers behind the aloof appearance, one that seems playful yet indifferent, that threatens to break when he hears the hiss slip from the blonde’s lips as he withdraws.
The last two buttons are freed and his torso is now revealed, even as he doesn’t quite shrug out of all of it yet, instead he simply watches and waits for the accolades to come pouring in. Truth be told, Astaroth wasn’t sure which he’d preferred out of this little arrangement, but he realizes it fairly quickly when it comes to the ego flare that Danta immediately starts with.
Yes, it certainly does rack up a lot of points.
Points that have him standing a bit straighter, slipping out of the vest initially and draping it over the back of the chair, followed by the white shirt that meets the same fate behind him. Now entirely shirtless with the range of his scarred and bruised torso for Danta to focus on, Astaroth bites back the smirk that threatens to form as he continues to listen, rewarding Danta with each one he approves of, starting by reaching out to untie the strap of leather that ties the blonde hair back before following down the back of his neck, over his shoulder, to the other man’s buttoned shirt.
He hesitates here, though, as their eyes meet, and that glimmer of mischief grows in the deepening of the crows feet on the corner of his eyes when a deep chuckle leaves him. “Now you are just flattering me.” He says on the edge of a whine, like it’s too good to be true that it can’t possibly be. So rather than unbutton the other man’s shirt, his hand lifts to cup the side of Danta’s neck, thumb pressing up against the soft underside of his jaw and he meets those blue eyes of the Maverick with a somehow sharper grin, as if waiting to see how he might just explain himself or navigate this. “Too much of a good thing can become suspicious.”
The last two buttons are freed and his torso is now revealed, even as he doesn’t quite shrug out of all of it yet, instead he simply watches and waits for the accolades to come pouring in. Truth be told, Astaroth wasn’t sure which he’d preferred out of this little arrangement, but he realizes it fairly quickly when it comes to the ego flare that Danta immediately starts with.
Yes, it certainly does rack up a lot of points.
Points that have him standing a bit straighter, slipping out of the vest initially and draping it over the back of the chair, followed by the white shirt that meets the same fate behind him. Now entirely shirtless with the range of his scarred and bruised torso for Danta to focus on, Astaroth bites back the smirk that threatens to form as he continues to listen, rewarding Danta with each one he approves of, starting by reaching out to untie the strap of leather that ties the blonde hair back before following down the back of his neck, over his shoulder, to the other man’s buttoned shirt.
He hesitates here, though, as their eyes meet, and that glimmer of mischief grows in the deepening of the crows feet on the corner of his eyes when a deep chuckle leaves him. “Now you are just flattering me.” He says on the edge of a whine, like it’s too good to be true that it can’t possibly be. So rather than unbutton the other man’s shirt, his hand lifts to cup the side of Danta’s neck, thumb pressing up against the soft underside of his jaw and he meets those blue eyes of the Maverick with a somehow sharper grin, as if waiting to see how he might just explain himself or navigate this. “Too much of a good thing can become suspicious.”
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
