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
“Yes, who are you?” Comes the muffled sassy rumble before he deftly avoids the true snap of his lover’s teeth in favor for the promised kiss to soothe any lingering aches. Not that there are any, but he plays the part, ever the drama king. The kiss is slow and sweet, saccharine in the way that it burns more than skin deep, stoking the fire that burns blue in the pit of the butcher’s center.
He drapes Danta easily as a blanket, content to press the weight of his thin frame against the Maverick. And as they part, the butcher’s panting breaths are pineapple sweet with no iron tang. “Much better, love.” Comes the soft purr, the butcher withdrawing enough to brush his nose gently against Danta’s own, immediately ruining the moment with the obnoxious nuzzle of his bearded face against his lover’s smooth cheek.
He drapes Danta easily as a blanket, content to press the weight of his thin frame against the Maverick. And as they part, the butcher’s panting breaths are pineapple sweet with no iron tang. “Much better, love.” Comes the soft purr, the butcher withdrawing enough to brush his nose gently against Danta’s own, immediately ruining the moment with the obnoxious nuzzle of his bearded face against his lover’s smooth cheek.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
