// we haven't won, and if we win, //
“Of course.” Asta agrees wholeheartedly, even as his accent grows thicker and thicker. Especially with the hands in his hair, the low tones of his voice numbed by long fingers of sleep trying to take him, so relaxed and at ease he nearly forgets the muzzle. It’s a good thing Danta’s here, though, because at least someone has the forethought to make sure they have as peaceful of a night as they realistically can.
Humming a noncommittal sound to hear his lover’s decision, the butcher doesn’t even move as Danta retrieves the muzzle, shifting only when his mind catches up with the rest of his body, lulled into the exhaustion that courses through his body and the relaxation of his muscles. He twists enough onto his side to let Danta slide the muzzle on, eyes opening only a fraction of the way and bleary eyed at best, waiting until he’s done before he’s snagging at him to tug him in against him to wrap around.
Humming a noncommittal sound to hear his lover’s decision, the butcher doesn’t even move as Danta retrieves the muzzle, shifting only when his mind catches up with the rest of his body, lulled into the exhaustion that courses through his body and the relaxation of his muscles. He twists enough onto his side to let Danta slide the muzzle on, eyes opening only a fraction of the way and bleary eyed at best, waiting until he’s done before he’s snagging at him to tug him in against him to wrap around.
Astaroth
// and if the morning light sets in, we've cheated fate again //
