mississippi boys, inner city boys

// I thought of angels choking on their halos //

Asta has long pushed Danta past the point where he's able to be witty or offer something sly in response, and if that's what makes him so perfect in this moment, so be it. Instead, letting out a shivering breath as he tries to keep his composure, the Maverick's knuckles grow white against the headboard as if to keep some flimsy self-control as the butcher's warm breath tickles across the length of him. "Fuck--" he grates out as he finally feels the hot flick of his tongue, eyes hazy with lust as he gazes down at him.

It's true that having his arguably most sensitive asset bitten off is a recipe for disaster, and later Danta will be grateful for Asta's foresight. Now, though, as the other man takes him into his mouth, it's truly the beginning of the end for the Maverick. Never one to stifle his moans unless they're making a game of it, the curses and demands that leave his lips are as needy as any Asta might have heard at the Dusklight, only now they're spilling from Danta's lips instead.

"Fuck, I'm close," he hisses a warning, his hips snapping up quite without his permission and his hand tightening in Asta's hair.

Dantalion

// get them drunk on rose water //