so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
i can give you what you crave, just not for free
Oh but of course he terrorized neighborhoods even back then. He’s terrorized them since before he became Ancient, although in far less of a gentlemanly way — before he’d learned how to restrain the savagery that lingered in his bones. As for Danta getting by, he’s well aware of it — having seen the correspondence that goes directly to the Maverick rather than Grounds officials, and how Kiada typically managed those.
Their offices were just across the way from one another, anyway. He doesn’t miss much.
The dark laugh that rumbles up from Danta’s chest is the last nail in the coffin that harbors Astaroth’s worries, one bubbling from his own chest as he challenges the thought. “No?” He imagines it’s very simple. Danta and blood and he found himself quite happy and content. Did there need to be less to be considered simple? He didn’t have a laundry list of requirements, after all.
But he doesn’t give the blonde a chance to respond as he leans in and steals a true kiss from the other Ancient’s perfect lips. And with the hands in his hair and the readjustment of the Maverick to fully sit in his lap, the butcher peers up at him when the kiss breaks, both hands rising to cup the sides of his face and thread through golden hair, while all of him seems to remain entirely mundane. No horns or tail for show.
Dark brows lift and he smirks a little, sharp teeth on display even as he considers it. “You just prefer me without much in terms of clothing. But I will not say no to see you poked and prodded.” He hums, leaning in to Danta’s face to push him back ever so slightly as his hands drop so that he can shrug out of the red shirt, leaving his torso bare for the other man’s wandering hands. “Dare I say I may even be looking forward to it.” The grin that spreads is cocky as it is sure, and he settles back in a touch of a tease to let his back rest against the board once more, the sun reflecting on the sand casting shadows along the patchwork of scarring on his chest.
Their offices were just across the way from one another, anyway. He doesn’t miss much.
The dark laugh that rumbles up from Danta’s chest is the last nail in the coffin that harbors Astaroth’s worries, one bubbling from his own chest as he challenges the thought. “No?” He imagines it’s very simple. Danta and blood and he found himself quite happy and content. Did there need to be less to be considered simple? He didn’t have a laundry list of requirements, after all.
But he doesn’t give the blonde a chance to respond as he leans in and steals a true kiss from the other Ancient’s perfect lips. And with the hands in his hair and the readjustment of the Maverick to fully sit in his lap, the butcher peers up at him when the kiss breaks, both hands rising to cup the sides of his face and thread through golden hair, while all of him seems to remain entirely mundane. No horns or tail for show.
Dark brows lift and he smirks a little, sharp teeth on display even as he considers it. “You just prefer me without much in terms of clothing. But I will not say no to see you poked and prodded.” He hums, leaning in to Danta’s face to push him back ever so slightly as his hands drop so that he can shrug out of the red shirt, leaving his torso bare for the other man’s wandering hands. “Dare I say I may even be looking forward to it.” The grin that spreads is cocky as it is sure, and he settles back in a touch of a tease to let his back rest against the board once more, the sun reflecting on the sand casting shadows along the patchwork of scarring on his chest.
Astaroth
you know what's on the line
