southern comfort's comforting, isn't it?

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

"Mmhm," Danta drawls, rolling his eyes affectionately and stilling so that Asta can fiddle with the clasp of his necklace. As the butcher's calloused hands smooth across his shoulders, the Maverick spends a little time ensuring that his shirt falls right and that his jewellery is sitting the way he wants it to, before he seems content with his outfit. "Oho, you'll admit to that, will you?" Letting out a rich laugh that tapers off with the press of warm lips to his ear, Danta turns willingly with the butcher's coaxing, a smile still playing across his face.

"I'll remember that," he informs him. "And I'd hope you wouldn't tonight, especially since you've gone through the trouble of dressing me up all nice." It's his turn now to take the butcher in, the light setting the golden threads of his shirt aglow like tiny veins of fire. And call it the crow in his nature, but his fingers are drawn to them quite without his permission, Danta's smile softening as he lets his hands wander.

"You are looking quite delicious yourself," he adds, straightening Asta's collar needlessly and brushing an affectionate thumb across his cheek. "I promise to be careful when I take it all off again later."

Dantalion

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