Astaroth
// so sip the gossip, drink 'til you choke. sip the gossip, burn down your throat //
The argued answer has the Butcher huffing a soft laugh into the kiss, busying himself with rearranging them just so where he can remove layer after layer, uncaring in this precise moment over where the clothes land. They need to be cleaned anyway, between the snow and the ash, the blood and the dust. And it’s likely a decent show for the Maverick as each layer comes undone, amusement sparking across his face as he smirks down at his lover. “I won’t push myself, darling.” He confirms with a low thrum of his voice, shirt snagging on the tines of his antlers briefly before he’s tugging it off the rest of the way and curling over his fiancé.
“Consider it my birthday gift.” He teases, claiming another chaste kiss before he descends down to Danta’s chin and the hollow of his throat, dropping down to his collarbones and the center of his chest. “I am tired, yes, but invigorated. So indulge me, ¿sí?” He purrs, holding himself back up in that hovering pose with one arm while the other moves to his belt, working it off as best he can given the obvious heat and arousal lingering in his body, reignited now that he’s gotten everything off of his chest and a taste of his lover.
“Consider it my birthday gift.” He teases, claiming another chaste kiss before he descends down to Danta’s chin and the hollow of his throat, dropping down to his collarbones and the center of his chest. “I am tired, yes, but invigorated. So indulge me, ¿sí?” He purrs, holding himself back up in that hovering pose with one arm while the other moves to his belt, working it off as best he can given the obvious heat and arousal lingering in his body, reignited now that he’s gotten everything off of his chest and a taste of his lover.
// you're not iconic, you are just like them all. don't act like you don't know //
