we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
Exactly. Who is he to deny him the opportunity to make this room however was more comfortable? The perfect line between Ferox and Astaroth, enough of the Halovian edge to it with the creature comforts that screamed Astaroth. After all, when you grow up sleeping amongst beds made of solid earth and furs, why not indulge in the luxuries of a mattress?
So he settles in, watching as Danta’s brow furrows and for a heartbeat of a second, Astaroth questions whether or not he’d gotten the dates wrong – even if he was sure time and time again that it was around now that Danta had chosen his birthday. But before he has a moment to fully let the panic settle, the confirmation is all he needs to flash that comfortably sharp smile back at his lover. “It has been a lot, darling.” He agrees softly, before he’s drawing quiet to let the Maverick open his gifts, banking in a touch of praise for whether or not it really is always a pleasure to deal with him.
He has half a mind to glance down to the scar he knows sits on Danta’s arm, but refrains in favor for the tins of tea. “The teas in particular are more up your alley, but I will be happy to indulge.” He touts playfully, letting his nose wrinkle with his grin when the shirts come next. A low rumble of a laugh leaves him to hear that it would also be a gift for himself – which… He’s not wrong. “You, in general, are a present for me.” He hums gently, a touch of softness breaking through the cocky arrogance of earlier.
But before he can respond further, he’s cut off with the kiss that’s soft and wine-sweet, and with the nip to his lower lip, the butcher’s arm winds around Danta’s middle a bit tighter, drawing him closer so he doesn’t part too far away. “You’re welcome, love.” Comes the soft purr before he’s leaning back in for another soft and gentle kiss that doesn’t last as long as either of them likely want it to.
He reaches up to cup Danta’s jaw, stroking his thumb along the sharp jut of a cheekbone as he smiles affectionately over at him, scanning his face from the fiery blues to the soft pout of his lips. “I love you, Danta.” It’s a soft admission, one he’s getting bolder with saying more often, lest they forget (how could they?)
So he settles in, watching as Danta’s brow furrows and for a heartbeat of a second, Astaroth questions whether or not he’d gotten the dates wrong – even if he was sure time and time again that it was around now that Danta had chosen his birthday. But before he has a moment to fully let the panic settle, the confirmation is all he needs to flash that comfortably sharp smile back at his lover. “It has been a lot, darling.” He agrees softly, before he’s drawing quiet to let the Maverick open his gifts, banking in a touch of praise for whether or not it really is always a pleasure to deal with him.
He has half a mind to glance down to the scar he knows sits on Danta’s arm, but refrains in favor for the tins of tea. “The teas in particular are more up your alley, but I will be happy to indulge.” He touts playfully, letting his nose wrinkle with his grin when the shirts come next. A low rumble of a laugh leaves him to hear that it would also be a gift for himself – which… He’s not wrong. “You, in general, are a present for me.” He hums gently, a touch of softness breaking through the cocky arrogance of earlier.
But before he can respond further, he’s cut off with the kiss that’s soft and wine-sweet, and with the nip to his lower lip, the butcher’s arm winds around Danta’s middle a bit tighter, drawing him closer so he doesn’t part too far away. “You’re welcome, love.” Comes the soft purr before he’s leaning back in for another soft and gentle kiss that doesn’t last as long as either of them likely want it to.
He reaches up to cup Danta’s jaw, stroking his thumb along the sharp jut of a cheekbone as he smiles affectionately over at him, scanning his face from the fiery blues to the soft pout of his lips. “I love you, Danta.” It’s a soft admission, one he’s getting bolder with saying more often, lest they forget (how could they?)
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
