don't need love when it comes in a bottle

run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine

He will never complain to hear a compliment – especially ones directed at him. So when he presses into the space along his neck and shoulder and relaxes, finally relaxes, the butcher finds the tension coiled in his muscles start to loosen as well. Happily content and warmed by the fire to remain tangled with his lover, the butcher’s voice is soft when he hums a thoughtful little sound. “That is true.” He says to the latter comment, because the first he murmurs a soft little; “I had not thought that far, admittedly.” It comes out a little sheepish as he tilts his head to press his jaw into Danta’s crown of gold, deftly evading any diamond spikes from the Maverick’s horns.

At the answer, though, the butcher nods slowly – a soft motion that has the pressure to move some of Danta’s hair in the process as his fingers continue to swoop soft little designs into the space between his neck and shoulder. “We need to not forget the good, either, when it does happen.” He confirms, shifting his head a little before he draws up his glamour to nestle into the pillows a bit more. The horns vanish and drop strands of dark hair into his face, the tail vanishing from being wrapped around Danta’s leg.

“Where would you like to start for the good, my darling?” He asks, nosing his way in for another affectionate kiss to his brow.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life