I told you, you were brave

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

"It is definitely true," Danta corrects, and as the fire flares up he takes over to bring it down low again, allowing him to strip the butcher of his jacket in the merry flicker of twilight. Discarding the garment and shifting enough to assist Asta in the removal of his own shirt, the Maverick is soon stepping forward to stand between the other man's legs, fingers moving to buttons and burnt orange fabric. "This is a good colour on you," he remarks in a low voice - not that he enjoys it more than Asta's bare skin, of course.

Opening the shirt easily enough, Danta's attention turns briefly to the buttons of his jeans, before returning to unbuckle Asta's belt. For once there's nothing hasty or near desperate in the removal of their clothes - the Maverick wants nothing more than to feel Asta's hands on his bare skin and to relish in the warmth between them without any barriers. And as he steps out of his shoes and peels off his jeans, rather than swarming over the other man, he draws him forward instead, arms slipping around his shoulders in a gentle embrace.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //