you're livin' for the rush, for that royal flush, but you take what you can get
"Agreed," Danta murmurs a little more quietly, his voice almost lost in the drone of rainfall, but Asta will feel the rumble of it in his chest. It's hard to compare, these days, the men they'd once been compared to who they are now. Truly, given the opportunity to go back, Danta would relish the opportunity to tell his younger self what he's got to look forward to if only he can hold out a bit longer and keep his nerve. (Though perhaps he'd keep the who a secret).
Laughing at the idea of the weather trying to do them a favour, Danta's fingers press a little harder against Asta's scalp, teasing blood from his dark locks and melting away any lingering tension from the hunt. "Mm, maybe it did. I think we might need another one before we actually feel clean, though," he says quietly, before Asta is shifting to peer up at him again, the butcher adjusting himself to get a bit more into Danta's space.
Slouching further against the tree to gaze down at the other man, he's smiling helplessly at the kisses Asta aims against his skin when the butcher speaks again, and any off-handed quip he might have made dies on his tongue. Blinking at Asta through the rain, expression made soft with the sincerity of his lover's thanks, rather than trying to form a clever response, Danta merely leans in for a real kiss, as if Asta might be able to taste the depth of his love on his lips.
Laughing at the idea of the weather trying to do them a favour, Danta's fingers press a little harder against Asta's scalp, teasing blood from his dark locks and melting away any lingering tension from the hunt. "Mm, maybe it did. I think we might need another one before we actually feel clean, though," he says quietly, before Asta is shifting to peer up at him again, the butcher adjusting himself to get a bit more into Danta's space.
Slouching further against the tree to gaze down at the other man, he's smiling helplessly at the kisses Asta aims against his skin when the butcher speaks again, and any off-handed quip he might have made dies on his tongue. Blinking at Asta through the rain, expression made soft with the sincerity of his lover's thanks, rather than trying to form a clever response, Danta merely leans in for a real kiss, as if Asta might be able to taste the depth of his love on his lips.
Dantalion
you play your final ace for a pretty face, tastes like scotch and cigarettes
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
