I'm where the spiders go

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

Danta doesn't draw the fire low as usual as he slips beneath the sheets, as if worried what the dark will remind him of given the events of the past few hours. But he doesn't seem bothered about collapsing into the sheets and pillows with the butcher so close - likely because even in his wildest nightmares, never could he imagine laying in bed with him - and as he turns to reach for the Maverick's hand, Danta surrenders it willingly.

"I didn't realise I'd done it," he confesses, of his torn and bloody nails, watching as Asta presses kiss after kiss to his sore fingers and feeling a sudden and reckless surge of affection for him. Swallowing hard and letting out a shivering breath, he finally shuffles himself closer to the other man, easing into his arms and being mindful of his injury, but tucking himself as close as he can.

And it's stiff and awkward, at first, until the exhaustion that singes his frayed nerves finally burns through everything else. Danta's body relaxes like it's the first time in a long time, curling itself around Asta as if to keep him and covet him and steal him away from the other version of himself the Maverick has seen tonight. Nosing against the side of his neck, his lips pressed to his throat in a silent kiss, it might be far from their most interesting position in bed, but Danta wouldn't have it any other way.

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //