run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
Relishing quietly in the touch of Danta’s thumb across the top of his knee, the butcher snorts to find the devilish smile on his lover’s face. “I didn’t say it was the only thing I was good at.” He objects, the carefree looseness of Ferrox warping the words in a sharper, deeper, more brutalesque sound. One that he pays little mind to as he keeps the other part of him buried deep below.
He's right to assume that Asta needs him just as much as Danta needs him to sleep, and if he thought he could get away with an all nighter, he might have given it a try. But he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, one that he wouldn’t be able to manage without copious amounts of caffeinated tea or coffee and keeping himself busy. Which is a challenge when he only has one hand that he can use.
So sleep is the obvious choice, and one he aims for to get it over with – choosing to rip the bandaid off as he downs his tea and finishes the food, taking the sedative (the correct amount given the instruction, if not a smidge more just to be extra sure he didn’t tear it off in his sleep), and like a well trained dog he settles in to let Danta place the muzzle into place, remaining so the straps can be double checked.
“Sounds like a great plan.” He murmurs, standing after Danta and offering his arm – still a smidge of that gentleman butcher left within him. And only when they’re stable and on their feet does the butcher ensure that Danta is settled into the bed, comfortable and without as much pain as possible, before he too sheds the rest of his clothes to slip under the furs and blankets to join him. Without Danta being able to sleep on his back and Asta unable to sleep on his side, he opts for a position similarly to the one they’d had when Danta had slipped into his bed, draping his arm into the soft space of his lower back and tangling his tail with the Maverick’s leg, ensuring that they can touch and radiate heat amongst one another. Another step further has him lowering the lights, nuzzling his cold, metal blocked cheek against the blonde’s crown before he withdraws. “Sleep well, love.” He murmurs softly, already feeling his body try to fight the sedative.
He's right to assume that Asta needs him just as much as Danta needs him to sleep, and if he thought he could get away with an all nighter, he might have given it a try. But he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, one that he wouldn’t be able to manage without copious amounts of caffeinated tea or coffee and keeping himself busy. Which is a challenge when he only has one hand that he can use.
So sleep is the obvious choice, and one he aims for to get it over with – choosing to rip the bandaid off as he downs his tea and finishes the food, taking the sedative (the correct amount given the instruction, if not a smidge more just to be extra sure he didn’t tear it off in his sleep), and like a well trained dog he settles in to let Danta place the muzzle into place, remaining so the straps can be double checked.
“Sounds like a great plan.” He murmurs, standing after Danta and offering his arm – still a smidge of that gentleman butcher left within him. And only when they’re stable and on their feet does the butcher ensure that Danta is settled into the bed, comfortable and without as much pain as possible, before he too sheds the rest of his clothes to slip under the furs and blankets to join him. Without Danta being able to sleep on his back and Asta unable to sleep on his side, he opts for a position similarly to the one they’d had when Danta had slipped into his bed, draping his arm into the soft space of his lower back and tangling his tail with the Maverick’s leg, ensuring that they can touch and radiate heat amongst one another. Another step further has him lowering the lights, nuzzling his cold, metal blocked cheek against the blonde’s crown before he withdraws. “Sleep well, love.” He murmurs softly, already feeling his body try to fight the sedative.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
