reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Amusement flickers in the butchers body language as his eyes remain closed and he’s guided in, his tail flicking back and forth like a cats in anticipation. The scents hit him first, a variety of them, liquor, drugs, sex, and everything in between. He can hear the door click shut, the rustle of some movement on what he can only assume is the slab of stone in the center of the rage room.
And when the whisper hits him, followed by the low hum of a different accent, he forces himself to look at Danta with that same amused smile playing on his lips before his dark gaze focuses entirely on the person strapped to the stone. “Oh ho.” The butcher begins, reaching out to cup Danta’s cheek affectionately with a brief glance. “What is your plan with this, darling?” He asks as he releases the Maverick to step toward the stone, to the man strapped to it, hand extending out to hover against sweat slick and warm skin.
He knows it’s unlikely to be sex, at least not with a stranger. So he has some idea of what this could be, but he waits like the good dog he is for the confirmation to indulge in the treat dangling in front of him, going so far as to look back over his shoulder toward his lover for confirmation.
And when the whisper hits him, followed by the low hum of a different accent, he forces himself to look at Danta with that same amused smile playing on his lips before his dark gaze focuses entirely on the person strapped to the stone. “Oh ho.” The butcher begins, reaching out to cup Danta’s cheek affectionately with a brief glance. “What is your plan with this, darling?” He asks as he releases the Maverick to step toward the stone, to the man strapped to it, hand extending out to hover against sweat slick and warm skin.
He knows it’s unlikely to be sex, at least not with a stranger. So he has some idea of what this could be, but he waits like the good dog he is for the confirmation to indulge in the treat dangling in front of him, going so far as to look back over his shoulder toward his lover for confirmation.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
