i've always liked to play with fire

Astaroth

// i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red //

A low hum of a laugh leaves him initially to hear Danta’s whispered words against his neck, but as they withdraw just enough to speak and Astaroth lets some of his brattiness out, it’s no wonder he often didn’t delve into such ways of speaking. No one would ever take him seriously as the monster he had always been if they heard him sounding like a petulant child.

But gods, it works, and he’s so surprised that when Danta moves and makes his demand, Astaroth is more than content to agree – slipping into the blankets with his own hum of a laugh, rumbling out from his scarred chest as Danta maneuvers him however he needs him in order to be the equivalent of a big spoon. And Astaroth won’t complain in the slightest – given that everything feels fine and normal now, and with the thrum of music and no screams of fights (only of pleasure) in the rest of the Dusklight, he can finally settle.

“I think it’s only fair.” Astaroth hums belatedly to Danta’s demand, pressed against the blonde’s chest and the soft and sheer gilded fabric, his arms moving to rest around Danta’s middle with the one with the stitches facing up against the blonde’s stomach. He’s careful to not poke or prod the other man with his sharp horns, but curls in enough that his face is quite comfortable and content using Danta’s chest as a pillow. “In the event my assistance is required, please wake me up.” He hums, voice trailing back into the formal tones now that he’s gotten his way, even if he doesn't want to go and work should it be required - Danta is still, technically, his boss.

// hot blood, these veins, my pleasure is their pain //

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

With his tail flicking this way and that in his impatience, Danta waits for Asta to get comfortable enough to be settled before he also sinks bonelessly into the other man's bed. Careful of his stitches and more than used to manoeuvring around the sharp points of his horns, the Maverick amuses himself in braiding a small and secret section of the other man's hair while he's too sleepy to retaliate.

"In the event your assistance is required, they will just have to kill themselves," he corrects, smirking and feeling his own eyes grow heavy as he relaxes into the familiar warmth and weight of the other man's presence. Danta can't really wake Astaroth up if he's also sleeping away the small hours, can he?

Regardless, lucky for them, the Dusklight continues to bask in its decadent celebrations without the need for either Ancient to interfere, and the butcher will be able to sleep for as long as he needs.

~FIN

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark