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

There is the immediate protest, and with the glamour in place, the butcher is unable to harbor a playful lashing tail when he’s called old. Instead, the only thing he can do it wrap his arms tighter around the Maverick and press obnoxiously into the kiss back — though it’s difficult to find the rage when Danta continues to pepper him with kisses, and despite all the bravado the butcher harbors close to his chest, he completely melts under his attention.

When the Maverick collapses, his arms sweep up and down his spine, dancing little patterns along each notch of his spine and over the silvery scars laid out against his skin. “A—” he cuts off with the laugh that bubbles out of him, not needing to be drunk for the laugh to end in a snicker-like giggle. “Asteroid??!?” He whines, tilting his head in Danta’s touch, a few raven black strands falling across his palm in the process. “Perhaps he was forgettable if you forgot his name. Too distracted by his beauty, were you?” He chides playfully, another soft laugh leaving him as he gives him time to answer before he surges up to steal a kiss, digging his fingertips in above his hips as if to keep him from pulling away. Not that he thinks he would, of course.

Astaroth

run, baby, run, run for your life