a tear in space

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

There’s an air of offense that crosses the taller Ancient’s face, only momentarily because it makes his head throb harder. “For the moment, yes. I’m old, remember?” He drawls in a tone that suggests he’s absolutely exasperated. At least the bed is warm when he nestles in and settles at the Maverick’s side, leaning heavily over onto him.

He takes his bite of the cracker while Danta pulls up the blanket around them and he slowly chews it to swallow it down before taking another couple of bites to try and give his stomach something to settle on. “I suppose.” He whines as he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a slow sip.

Setting it down to work on the second cracker he does already start to feel a bit better and less shaky, and he tilts his head back against Danta’s in turn. “The whole rest of the day if I am lucky.” His tone is pitched in that same whiny tone and he closes his eyes trying to soak up the blonde’s warmth.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"So old." Danta whispers his agreement through a smile, letting his fingers brush gently down the butcher's arm before stroking back up, content to do little more than sit and exist and gentle sass each other for now. But like Asta, reluctant as he is to admit it, he is starting to feel better for eating and drinking something, though he's not running any marathons any time soon.

Shifting to get more comfortable against the headboard, Danta finishes up his cracker and resists the urge to lay back down properly lest he fall asleep and wake up feeling awful again. "You suppose?" He smirks. "Well what do you want as a reward, then? I can't magic the hangover away, and I'm not getting back out of bed. Otherwise you can have whatever you like."

As for staying put for the rest of the day, the Maverick hums his wholehearted approval, though he does glance around at the space that currently looks nothing like the room he'd had before, nor what he imagines they want it to be. "If I feel better later, maybe I'll start moving things around," he decides.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“My bones feel like dust.” He complains, but he leans in heavier to feel the ghosting of Danta fingers against his arm. He devours the cracker and downs the rest of the water and with it he half curls in toward the blonde, resting his head against the headboard.

As for what he wants? “I want to lay on you.” Comes the quiet admission, taking a moment to ensure his glamour is in place so he doesn’t accidentally stab the Maverick, before he’s shifting with the agreement that Danta isn’t leaving anytime soon, he twists enough within the blanket to rest his head in the other Ancient’s lap.

He closes his eyes again and tries to slip his arms around one of Danta’s legs (if not both), to curl up against him a touch needy. “If I feel better I will help.” He isn’t sure if he will feel better, but it’s a hopeful attempt.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"Like dust?" Danta echoes. "Gods, should I send word to the infirmary?" Grinning and letting his eyes slip shut as he relaxes, sending word is about the only thing he can do right now, because there's no way he's getting there himself. Sighing and getting more comfortable, he's just started to enjoy leeching Asta's warmth when the butcher announces his desires, and it's with a soft raise of his eyebrows that Danta blinks down at him, scoffing under his breath.

"Is that better?" he asks dryly, though for all of his sass and pretenses at complaining, of course the Maverick is never going to deny the other man. Reaching out to tuck the blankets around him a little more, Danta makes sure they're both settled before starting to tease his fingers through Asta's dark locks, the movement slow and gentle and reverent.

"Okay, it's a deal," he says. "At least we managed to move the bed. I quite like having it tucked away under here."

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“Yes.” He responds dryly, sarcasm lingering in his tone as he makes the move to settle into Danta’s lap. Warmth is what he clings to and Danta’s gentle affections, eyes remaining shut as the Maverick’s hands rake through his dark hair, over spaces typically inhabited by horns.

If he could purr, he would be. Instead he treats the other man to a low hum of an equivalent. “So much.” He breathes, squeezing Danta’s legs lightly as if to prove it. He finally starts to relax as the pounding migraine starts to dissipate slowly, throbbing less and less hard as the minutes pass and distraction comes in the form of hands through his long dark hair.

The mention of the bed has him tucking in a bit more with a soft huff of a laugh, tilting his head slightly to nod, slowly so that it doesn’t make it hurt more. “I adore dens.” And if Danta had the moment to recall, he’d remember that Asta’s room in the Climb had been essentially a deep and dark hole in the wall — a den through and through. “I’m glad you like having the bed here.” He adds after a moment.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I see. I will have the medics sent for immediately," Danta drawls, grinning down at the other man and continuing to push his fingers through his hair, the pressure of his touch as gentle as he can make it. "Good," he rumbles, his free hand joining the other to sweep Asta's hair up off the back of his neck where he can gather it into a loose twist, though of course he has nothing to fasten it and keep it in place.

"Do you? I couldn't tell." Now it's Danta's turn for sarcasm, though as he tips his head back to admire the cozy shelter created by the mezzanine that sits overhead, he can absolutely understand it. "Mm, I didn't expect to," he admits; his own shift makes him more likely to enjoy a nest up high than a covered den. "Maybe it's you." If it weren't for their delicate state he might have given Asta a nudge for his trouble; instead he tucks a stray lock of hair behind the other man's ear, letting a fingertip tickle along the curve of his jaw at the same time.

"Will you use the upper level to tinker with all your things, then?" he wonders.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“Hoorayyy,” Asta hums entirely distractedly, resting contently in Danta’s lap as their banter dances between them. He’s distracted from his migraine in the form of the fingers threading through his hair, brushing it away from the nape of his neck which usually remained hidden. And with it, the dark embrace of their little den they’d crafted. More accurately, the one Danta had created for him.

As for Danta not expecting to like it, it makes sense to the butcher. And he nods quietly, slowly, until the smile tugs on the corners of his lips to hear him mention that it might be him. “I would be content wherever, darling, so long as you were there. This is just a beautiful addition to it.” He purrs in a soft breathy tone, tilting his head into the trail of fingers down his bearded jaw, sticking up in odd spaces from how he’d slept.

He blinks his gaze open to look at the underside of the mezzanine, imagining what he might do up there when he hums a yes. “Yes. Perhaps I’ll make more bone chimes to hang from that level.” He suggests, twisting a touch to slide his dark gaze up toward Danta, curious to see his reaction.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

Grinning to himself and spending a few moments smoothing a hand against Asta's stubbled cheek as if to make him more presentable (purely for the butcher's benefit, since Danta quite enjoys him casually ruffled), he follows the other man's gaze upwards, though of course their view of the actual ceiling is blocked by what they've created. "It could be more beautiful," he protests, relaxing back further against the headboard. "Some lights and candles, a few drapes, more of your macabre decorations..." Truly a den to be proud of.

"Those bone chimes would look very fitting on the upper level, though," he agrees, glancing back down at Asta and smoothing his fingers across the back of his neck once he's satisfied. "We'll put a nice armchair up there for you, too. And your tea set." A fancy little sitting room for the butcher to enjoy, while Danta of course slums about on the lower level.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

He finds that so long as the Maverick keeps touching him, he’s quite content to lay there basking in the attention — at such odds from a year ago when the blonde had risen him from his stony slumber. “Yes to everything.” He confirms, breathing a sigh of relief as the migraine finally releases its chokehold on him. The crackers and water must have done wonders.

“Hang them off the bottom to combine the two spaces more?” He suggests, settling again for the moment as Danta’s fingertips run along the back of his neck again, goosebumps rising against the pads of his fingers. “You know, if Charlie did wish to go through those boxes, she would have found that tea set.” He points out.

And with it, he releases Danta’s leg to twist so he can look up at the blonde, a soft yet no less sharp smirk tugged onto his face, a dark brow rising in easy amusement. “And a muzzle.” The very one from his bodyguard outfit that Danta had crafted for him.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I thought you would approve," Danta purrs, smiling to himself at the reaction his busy fingers have caused, his hand trickling further beneath the blankets to spread in a soft starburst between the butcher's shoulders. "Mm, we could. If both of us learn to dart as well as Charlie does, we can even do away with the ladder." His touch lingers there against Asta's back, as if to cover the old scars with the texture of his fingerprints instead, moving only when he shifts to turn in his lap.

"Would she?" Grinning - both at the tea set and the muzzle - Danta almost wants to make a remark asking how Asta would plan to drink his tea while wearing it, brushing his fingers across the butcher's lips before he slowly leans across towards the tray. "Much as I know you enjoy that tea set, I do need this right now," he says apologetically, grabbing the coffee pot (and using a blast of fire to warm it to scalding once again) and two cups before pouring them both a drink.

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

How couldn’t he agree with it when the Maverick seems to be speaking the butcher’s mind. And as the blonde's hand moves to starburst across his shoulders and over rough scarring, he finds himself having to readjust if only to not fall back asleep from the siren song of his touch. “Or a flighted shift.” He muses, despite having none of his own and Danta’s smaller shift causing trauma, well.. Darting is probably the likely choice.

Finding Danta’s bright smile in the dim light, he’d beam one back if it weren’t for the fingers that trace along his lips, waiting until they’ve passed so he doesn’t accidentally nip them when he speaks. “Mm, yes. That and the rest of my Head of Security outfit.” He tacks on, before he’s shifting slightly to make it easier for Danta to snag the coffee, squinting at the burst of flame before it makes his head throb again.

“Fortunately for you I think it will take me at least another hour before I can attempt to climb the ladder.” He informs him, collecting his coffee cup when offered and cradling it briefly with one hand so that he can rise enough to press a kiss to the inside of Danta’s wrist, before following it with a chaste one to his lips so that they can start drinking the coffee sooner rather than later.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I'm not sure you could handle being a bird," Danta informs the other man with playful haughtiness; undoubtedly Asta could say the same thing about him as a fyrhund, but they don't need that shift to get to the mezzanine level. As for the outfit he'd curated for him on their first date (awww), the Maverick hides the sly twist to his smile as he makes their coffee. "And what good would that outfit be up there, I wonder?"

Raising his eyebrows and passing Asta his cup, he waits patiently for the other man to get himself situated, accepting his kisses as payment and shifting to sit cross legged while they wake up further. That first sip of coffee is like nectar, the bittersweetness wiping away last night's alcohol, and it's with a content grumble that Danta tilts is head back to rest against the headboard. "I wonder what Charlie has in store for us," he says with a soft chuckle, remembering belatedly that she had won the bet.

"For what it's worth, by the way, I will still let you dress me for the day if you'd like that."

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“Mm, you think so?” He asks with a playful banter that suggests he’s going to pray extra hard to get a flighted shift just to see Danta eat his words. But, for now, blessed with a volcanic canine and a volcanic alligator for shifts, it would be a long ways away.

As for what good the outfit would do up there, he snorts and wrinkles his nose a touch. “So you could watch me go up there as I typically am only to return how you prefer me. Like magic.” It’s punctuated with a kiss before he’s settling upright with the mug in hand, freed up enough to continue to rest his side against the Maverick and sip from the coffee without spilling it. And much like how the other Ancient feels about it, the butcher agrees entirely. It starts to wake him up, warm away the shivers, and soothes him both in and out. “Something purple for you, more than likely.” He murmurs, nudging the Theocrat only barely to not jostle him, as if his bones were truly made of dust.

His gaze softens with amusement as Danta says he’ll still let him dress him for the day and he shakes his head as if to decline such a one sided offer. “I shall only accept if you dress me for the day as well.” Since they both had lost to Charlie, they could still find some semblance of victory.

And already the butcher is imagining that sunset hued corset against the pale skin of the Theocrat, and it leaves him unknowingly staring at him in adoration.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// divide me down to the smallest I can be //

"I know so," Danta insists with a grin, bouncing his eyebrows at Asta over the rim of his coffee mug as he takes another long, grateful sip of his drink. And whilst he fully appreciates the sentiment - like magic, indeed - the Maverick can't help but let his amusement fade a little, and he reaches out to brush his thumb across the other man's cheek. "How I prefer you is however you decide to be for the day," he corrects softly. "Don't ever think otherwise."

Whether it's dressed down (for Asta, anyway), in a full suit, bloodied, ruffled or pristine; whether he's lurking behind him as his shadow, begging for his attention or quietly preferring not to be touched that day, Danta doesn't care, so long as the butcher is happy in himself. Now it's his turn to punctuate the remarks with a kiss, this one directed against the corner of his mouth, before he's settling back once more.

"Actually," he says, smirking, "I think you'll find she called that particular shade plum." So, yeah, purple. "And you have yourself a deal. I have no idea how you expect me to stay still long enough for that tailor to take measurements, though."

Dantalion

// put your, put your v-v-venom in me //