// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
A hum is all the you’re welcome Danta gets, not that Asta imagines the Maverick would complain. Not when he’s busy putting together the metaphor and the butcher is sidling up precisely at a perfect time to snatch his gaze (and breath) away. Withdrawing with a knowing grin, the butcher returns to his task, only to feel the warmth from the Maverick as he sidles up beside him to get to work too – a hum of a laugh leaving him in a slight question as he turns slightly toward his lover to raise his brow. “Am I?”
Something tells him before Danta speaks next he knows precisely what it is he’s on thin ice about, but he can’t help but to be his typical arrogant self in spite of it. Placing a dollop of strawberry preserves into the center of the next cookie he’s moved onto, he lets a warm chuckle slip past his lips. “Perhaps that can be arranged before our sick chef returns and the staff have gone to bed?” His voice drops a touch, playful in spite of it before his dark gaze flits toward his lover with a playful smirk.
Because yes, he’s got to plan those things when there isn’t extenuating circumstances (like sexy Frey demigods wandering about).
“Also, it is a good thing I am used to being on thin ice. I am from Whitebrim, after all.” It ends in an almost playful sing song tone, quiet and whispered, letting his accent trail over the words playfully as he adds another drop of strawberry into the next cookie in line.
Something tells him before Danta speaks next he knows precisely what it is he’s on thin ice about, but he can’t help but to be his typical arrogant self in spite of it. Placing a dollop of strawberry preserves into the center of the next cookie he’s moved onto, he lets a warm chuckle slip past his lips. “Perhaps that can be arranged before our sick chef returns and the staff have gone to bed?” His voice drops a touch, playful in spite of it before his dark gaze flits toward his lover with a playful smirk.
Because yes, he’s got to plan those things when there isn’t extenuating circumstances (like sexy Frey demigods wandering about).
“Also, it is a good thing I am used to being on thin ice. I am from Whitebrim, after all.” It ends in an almost playful sing song tone, quiet and whispered, letting his accent trail over the words playfully as he adds another drop of strawberry into the next cookie in line.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
