the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
A crooked smile blooms over his face briefly to see Danta’s blues light up with the realization, amusement glittering in his own dark eyes as he makes the confirmation. “That is correct.” Asta touts, as if proud it hadn’t come off too overt that he might seem like he does protect the Dusklight too. Which… He does, but at the end of the day if it came down to the Dusklight or the Maverick? Asta’s choice had been made a long time ago. “It is obvious, isn’t it?” Comes the easy teasing, because absolutely they have to keep up appearances, even if it’s just the two of them in their room, in their den, while the butcher comes to terms with being lovesick as he gazes up at his Theocrat.
He’s positive that the only blanket he wants in his life is the living breathing one settled atop him, letting his fingers thread through golden hair in the flickering light of their candles and the fire in their fireplace, focusing on that rather than the very heavy implications they’ve both admitted. It made sense, of course, but it still feels heavy. Heavier for the fact these are admissions easily made when inebriated, but meant more when he was far more sober. Like he is right now.
“Good, you shouldn’t.” Comes the heavy and playful taunt, waggling a brow as a warm kiss is pressed to his cheek and he lets his hands smooth down Danta’s sides to his hips as his shirt is unbuttoned. And as it turns out, now is a perfect time to shed out of it as Asta props himself up on his elbows, leaving cooler air from where his hands had been against the Maverick, but it doesn’t last long before he’s out of the shirt, pulling it atop his chest to fold and playfully prevent what it is the blonde is seeking most right now.
Oh, and he knows it too, if the small smirk that tugs the corners of his lips up is any indication.
He’s positive that the only blanket he wants in his life is the living breathing one settled atop him, letting his fingers thread through golden hair in the flickering light of their candles and the fire in their fireplace, focusing on that rather than the very heavy implications they’ve both admitted. It made sense, of course, but it still feels heavy. Heavier for the fact these are admissions easily made when inebriated, but meant more when he was far more sober. Like he is right now.
“Good, you shouldn’t.” Comes the heavy and playful taunt, waggling a brow as a warm kiss is pressed to his cheek and he lets his hands smooth down Danta’s sides to his hips as his shirt is unbuttoned. And as it turns out, now is a perfect time to shed out of it as Asta props himself up on his elbows, leaving cooler air from where his hands had been against the Maverick, but it doesn’t last long before he’s out of the shirt, pulling it atop his chest to fold and playfully prevent what it is the blonde is seeking most right now.
Oh, and he knows it too, if the small smirk that tugs the corners of his lips up is any indication.
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
