// we haven't won, and if we win, //
“I feel as if I should be doing more.” The butcher comments, despite knowing better – still not entirely used to taking gifts for what they were. He does, however, take the wine glass with a smile, taking a sip before he lets it cradle between his fingers as Danta kneels behind him. He remains sitting, just as instructed, sinking back against his heels, his tail sweeping up around in front of him where the ashen tip flicks back and forth as he leans into the kiss pressed to his cheek.
He feels his hair sweep up off of his neck before the spread of warm hands against the top of his shoulders, moving his arm however Danta sees fit. It moves mostly well enough – some tightness where it comes to lifting up too high, but the butcher sips easily from the wine glass as his lover takes the notes of the injured arm. “I promise, darling.” The butcher purrs softly, tilting his head briefly to glance over his shoulder and let the smile reflect in his honey dark gaze, settling in.
And much like before, the softer hand works wonders against his skin with the oils – allowing it to be a smooth transition to work out the knots in his neck and between his shoulder blades. It takes all of a few moments before the butcher’s head hangs a little in his comfort, his own eyes closing as he relishes in the touch. “I did not realize I was so tense.” Comes the quiet rumble, relaxing further under Danta’s movements.
He feels his hair sweep up off of his neck before the spread of warm hands against the top of his shoulders, moving his arm however Danta sees fit. It moves mostly well enough – some tightness where it comes to lifting up too high, but the butcher sips easily from the wine glass as his lover takes the notes of the injured arm. “I promise, darling.” The butcher purrs softly, tilting his head briefly to glance over his shoulder and let the smile reflect in his honey dark gaze, settling in.
And much like before, the softer hand works wonders against his skin with the oils – allowing it to be a smooth transition to work out the knots in his neck and between his shoulder blades. It takes all of a few moments before the butcher’s head hangs a little in his comfort, his own eyes closing as he relishes in the touch. “I did not realize I was so tense.” Comes the quiet rumble, relaxing further under Danta’s movements.
Astaroth
// and if the morning light sets in, we've cheated fate again //
