// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
Not having to fight one another over the use of elbows (and also the extra space offered so he doesn’t have to deal with the majority of splashing liquid and shells), the butcher settles within his own space, cracking the lobster tail open to devour the meat within it, pausing when he feels the hot wet stripe of Danta’s tongue against his wrist (where he’s very much been paying attention to the path the butter had taken).
A laugh of surprise escapes him as he glances sidelong at his lover, the smile offered is sharp but amused and a touch dramatic when he responds. “No. However, some napkins may be beneficial?” He suggests, already realizing that the only ones they have available are the thick cloth ones that he’s previously set into his lap as if expecting such a thing.
The shrimp is picked up and devoured as Asta deposits the lobster shell, glancing over when butter flicks past him onto the place for disregarded shells. Pleased that it’s missed him, at least, the butcher snags the tail Danta had left behind with a wink and plops it into his mouth, already reaching for a crab leg of his own to crack - this time, mindful of the angle of which he cracks it so that the golden butter simply drips down his fingers and not onto his wrist, something which he glances back to Danta with affection and amusement, offering the golden fingers for him to clean off if he feels so inclined.
A laugh of surprise escapes him as he glances sidelong at his lover, the smile offered is sharp but amused and a touch dramatic when he responds. “No. However, some napkins may be beneficial?” He suggests, already realizing that the only ones they have available are the thick cloth ones that he’s previously set into his lap as if expecting such a thing.
The shrimp is picked up and devoured as Asta deposits the lobster shell, glancing over when butter flicks past him onto the place for disregarded shells. Pleased that it’s missed him, at least, the butcher snags the tail Danta had left behind with a wink and plops it into his mouth, already reaching for a crab leg of his own to crack - this time, mindful of the angle of which he cracks it so that the golden butter simply drips down his fingers and not onto his wrist, something which he glances back to Danta with affection and amusement, offering the golden fingers for him to clean off if he feels so inclined.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
