oh darling get me drunk, invite me in

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Aware only of the sound of his panting breath and the thunder of his heartbeat for a few blissful moments, Danta's hips shift of their own accord, riding out the swell of his orgasm as well as carrying Asta through his climax. He cares little for their surroundings or who might hear or come to investigate, his fingers relaxing in the butcher's dark hair to stroke through the midnight strands, savouring the silken feel through his fingertips.

"I love you too," he whispers, the words something Asta will feel against the side of his neck as well as hear, Danta's head dropping to rest on his shoulder. And that's where he stays for he doesn't now how long, the warmth between them doing wonders to stave off the chill of the evening, the sound of the party distant, still, but audible once his senses return enough to listen properly.

Words form more than once on his lips before he lets them go, not wanting to disturb their peace with the obvious; eventually, he sits up just enough to gently cup Asta's jaw and tilt his head up against his waiting lips. Danta kisses him slow and sweet and reverant, as if that might tell the butcher everything that words fail to articulate.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash