am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
Perhaps things are different between them because where Danta had few and far between chances to sleep outside, the butcher often spent many nights under a variety of roofs. There were the occasional (but rare) times he slept atop the same hot rock, the same twinkling stars, and the same reflecting orange veins that cracked through the surface here and there; and there were the other nights where the stars may have been close enough to be the same, but rather than the Climb’s harrowing comfort, he often saw the greenery of wilderness or the gray fog of nothingness.
At any rate, the butcher follows the Maverick toward the fire that dries his clothes, sitting beside him against the log. The fire continues to warn his bones, his neck and shoulders soaking up the majority of it before Danta is fitting himself into his lap. And yes, absolutely, the butcher won’t last when caged with such warmth. His arms immediately slink along his hips, lacing together at the small of his back as the butcher tilts his head lightly into the kisses that press into his hair.
“You are quite warm, darling.” He murmurs, as if he didn’t need to think up warm thoughts because the blonde was there to be his heat source. And it’s enough that he forces his face in against the other man’s neck, only to promptly sack out for a moment or two, arms limp as they sag against his lower back and the butcher’s face remains buried in against his neck, Danta is greeted with the soft snores of his exhaustion finally catching up with him.
At any rate, the butcher follows the Maverick toward the fire that dries his clothes, sitting beside him against the log. The fire continues to warn his bones, his neck and shoulders soaking up the majority of it before Danta is fitting himself into his lap. And yes, absolutely, the butcher won’t last when caged with such warmth. His arms immediately slink along his hips, lacing together at the small of his back as the butcher tilts his head lightly into the kisses that press into his hair.
“You are quite warm, darling.” He murmurs, as if he didn’t need to think up warm thoughts because the blonde was there to be his heat source. And it’s enough that he forces his face in against the other man’s neck, only to promptly sack out for a moment or two, arms limp as they sag against his lower back and the butcher’s face remains buried in against his neck, Danta is greeted with the soft snores of his exhaustion finally catching up with him.
Astaroth
come a little closer
