all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach
Trundling along in Asta's wake quite contently, Danta has to be careful about watching his step on their way up the (endless, it feels) staircase, and he waves at a disembodied feather duster clearing cobwebs away from an arch before he's ferried along after the butcher once more. Feeling simultaneously more clear-headed than on their walk but also much more chaotic, as they swan into their room at last and he's released, Danta is already stretching his arms high above his head and kicking his shoes across the room.
"Like poetry to my ears," he purrs, flashing a fanged grin to the butcher and delicately setting the bone rose down on a side table before he prowls across the room to his lover. Draping himself up against Asta like he's the only warmth he needs in the world, one of Danta's arms coils around his shoulders, fingers plunging into the back of his dark hair, whilst the other grasps the butcher by the front of the shirt to draw him down against his lips.
Danta kisses him like he's the very air in his lungs, melting into every place their bodies touch and ignoring the way the room spins dizzyingly as his eyes slip shut. He's panting for breath by the time he parts with a final flick of his tongue, nose brushing against Asta's. "How would you like to spend the evening?" he asks, the words almost mumbled against his mouth. "And not how you think I would like to spend it. What do you want?"
Because don't get him wrong, Danta will always want Asta, the butcher a carnal drug he can't get enough of, but the other man is a selective gentleman at the best of times. And so if they celebrate tonight with little more than this and this alone, the Maverick will still consider himself Torchline's happiest Ancient.
"Like poetry to my ears," he purrs, flashing a fanged grin to the butcher and delicately setting the bone rose down on a side table before he prowls across the room to his lover. Draping himself up against Asta like he's the only warmth he needs in the world, one of Danta's arms coils around his shoulders, fingers plunging into the back of his dark hair, whilst the other grasps the butcher by the front of the shirt to draw him down against his lips.
Danta kisses him like he's the very air in his lungs, melting into every place their bodies touch and ignoring the way the room spins dizzyingly as his eyes slip shut. He's panting for breath by the time he parts with a final flick of his tongue, nose brushing against Asta's. "How would you like to spend the evening?" he asks, the words almost mumbled against his mouth. "And not how you think I would like to spend it. What do you want?"
Because don't get him wrong, Danta will always want Asta, the butcher a carnal drug he can't get enough of, but the other man is a selective gentleman at the best of times. And so if they celebrate tonight with little more than this and this alone, the Maverick will still consider himself Torchline's happiest Ancient.
Dantalion
don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
