all the blood and the dust

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Danta lets his lover descend first, chirping his approval overhead to see him manage to make a passable landing without accidentally faceplanting the desert. He circles lower, waiting until the colossal black shape morphs into Asta's familiar and handsome silhouette, before dropping down to join him. The Maverick, of course, is no stranger to going from wings to feet, and he completes his shift back just as he reaches the sand, kicking up a bit of dust but not missing a step as he catches up to the butcher.

"Mmm, it feels good to talk," Danta agrees, stretching his arms above his head and practically tumbling against the other man's side as his arms wind around him. "I know it's easier to explore in shift in places like this, but fuck." His complaints are dramatic but good natured, Danta flashing a fanged smile up at Asta and wasting no time in leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth as they walk.

He's dressed not dissimilarly to the butcher (proof that it's Leafchange, he supposes), his pants riding low on his hips and his shirt little more than a sheer, silvery tank top. All the better to peel off the second they get inside, he thinks. "Good job being a dragon, by the way," he purrs, now that he's able to properly give the compliment.

Dantalion