I told you, you were brave

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

Comfortable in a way that's impossible to describe as he sinks into the bed and Asta blankets his body, Danta's arms stretch around the other man, head tilting to the side to welcome the decadence of his kisses. It is obvious, now that he's got a second to consider it, one hand strumming a gentle rhythm up the length of the other man's back, his legs spreading to welcome him between them.

Biting back the smile that wants to spread across his lips, not to mention the protests and self deprecating remarks - to indulge in you and worship you and love you - it takes a shivery couple of moments for Danta to remember to breathe, by which point Asta is whispering against his ear and silencing any reply worth giving other than yes. "Well when you put it like that..." He huffs out a breathless laugh, fresh heat in his cheeks, his head turning into the fingers that smooth through his hair.

He hesitates only for a fraction of a second before making the decision to draw up his glamour, his horns vanishing into the soft waves of his hair, making it easier to turn his head and seek out Asta's lips. No longer having the benefit of fangs, it matters little in the end; pressing his tongue to one of the sharp points of the butcher's canines, their kiss floods with the taste of hot iron, and his arms tighten further around the other man.

Dantalion

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