// don't you fight my hold on you //
He nuzzles into the touch to his face, eyes fluttering with the blink as he relaxes into the touch – boneless and exhausted as the bloodlust and his cravings are both happily topped off. He hears the quip and determines it’s nothing more than self-deprecation, listening as he makes the statement that the butcher thrives off. “Mm, I would have it no other way.” And it’s true – He can’t get rid of Danta just as much as Danta can get rid of him. At least, not by any other means (the miscommunication from his return with the mud behemoth still stings occasionally).
The lightning strikes again, the boom following it up as the air becomes both heavy with rain and energized with the living storm they’re enduring – grateful they’re on the ground in a puddle of their own lest they become walking lightning rods. “I think it knew we wanted a shower, hm?” He doesn’t know about Danta, but the butcher was absolutely debating a bath, just one wreathed in fire and heat as opposed to the sopping wet raindrops.
It doesn’t matter too much, though, because suddenly overcome with the thoughts that linger in his mind of Danta’s previous comment, it has him looking up more fully at his lover, shifting enough to keep his hand in his hair as he draws little designs into the Maverick’s back. “For the record, darling, I would not have done half of the things I have done since reawakening if it were not for you.” He points out – tail flicking more water off the tip of it as he shifts slightly to blanket Danta better, tilting up enough to press a kiss to his collarbone and then to his chin. “So, thank you. For everything.” He mumbles against his skin.
The lightning strikes again, the boom following it up as the air becomes both heavy with rain and energized with the living storm they’re enduring – grateful they’re on the ground in a puddle of their own lest they become walking lightning rods. “I think it knew we wanted a shower, hm?” He doesn’t know about Danta, but the butcher was absolutely debating a bath, just one wreathed in fire and heat as opposed to the sopping wet raindrops.
It doesn’t matter too much, though, because suddenly overcome with the thoughts that linger in his mind of Danta’s previous comment, it has him looking up more fully at his lover, shifting enough to keep his hand in his hair as he draws little designs into the Maverick’s back. “For the record, darling, I would not have done half of the things I have done since reawakening if it were not for you.” He points out – tail flicking more water off the tip of it as he shifts slightly to blanket Danta better, tilting up enough to press a kiss to his collarbone and then to his chin. “So, thank you. For everything.” He mumbles against his skin.
Astaroth
// pour the gasoline, strike your match on me //
