hiding in plain sight

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Mm, what a fight that would be.” Astaroth rumbles with a huff of a laugh, because certainly he’s unsure whether or not fighting Danta now would actually be much of a fight. Not like before. Perhaps he’d care too much now to actually try to maim him like he would have.

Either way, no scrapping, which is great given that he’s admittedly exhausted from stressing out about the whole ordeal. “Thankfully, I have satisfied my bloodlust for a bit longer.” He realizes it isn’t the same for Danta with his perpetually always hungry mindset, but for the butcher it helps lend help to his usual tension.

Their foreheads press and Astaroth’s eyes close briefly, embracing the warmth, before withdrawing slightly with a small sigh despite the way the corners of his lips lift in a small smile. “I suppose. You can tell me all about the hobbies you’ve begun.” He suggests, raising a brow playfully.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

"How lucky for you," Danta drawls, rolling his eyes playfully and peeling himself out of Asta's lap to straighten up. "Pray for us poor starving waifs who have to wait until the sun rises, will you?" He doesn't mean it, of course, the Maverick stepping away to draw his shirt over his head so he might put on something more appropriate for the chaos and glamour of the Dusklight's main floor.

"Are my hobbies not obvious?" He raises his brows, selecting a (very familiar, Asta) sheer gold shirt to pair with leather pants he has to fight his way into. "I've been reading, completing puzzles, knitting... I'm sure there's paint around here somewhere as well. I'm very well-rounded now, Asta."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Sorrows.” Astaroth rumbles with an amused twitch of his lips, chuckling a little as he sits up more fully and adjusts his shirt and sleeves a bit as Danta gets redressed to go downstairs. Of course, the flash of gold captures his attention, an approving look granted (and something internally possessive with the thought rebounding around inside his head).

He moves to stand, looking Danta over with more appreciation to see the leather pants, too, that has him stepping over to help the Maverick get into them a little bit easier. “So very well rounded. What was your favorite?” He asks, flashing an easier and more relaxed sharp toothed grin as he steps back, gesturing for Danta to lead the way (and also so he can watch him take the lead, sue him.)

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

"Mm, and fuck you too," Danta trills affectionately in response to Asta's dry remark, patting him on the cheek (a little harder than needed, true) as he gets to his feet to assist the Maverick into his clothes. Something that proves as hilarious as it is necessary, but eventually he's free to be able to leave the room. He does, of course, peep behind the curtains and open the window a fraction to allow Moira in before going, but soon enough they're on their way down to the main floor.

"The puzzle, of course," he drawls. "I am quite the genius when it comes to recognising patterns." A lie, and a poor one based on the knowing grin he flashes over his shoulder at the butcher. But whatever - maybe Danta's hobbies really are just drinking, fighting and fucking. And that's fine, okay?

Heading into the music and movement of the Dusklight - the brothel clearly doesn't care if its head of security is exhausted - Danta makes a beeline for the bar, fully intending to enjoy himself all over again now that he's rested.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

The grin spreads despite the harder pat to his cheek than usual, not that Astaroth minds too much, mind you. Evident in how he steps forward to comically help Danta get into his pants. And before long, they’re on their way down the stairs and Moira gets her free reign with Danta’s room while Astaroth keeps his attention forward, not wishing to have that on his mind too.

Dark eyes finding the grin shot over Danta’s shoulder and a hum of a laugh leaves him. “Is that so? Perhaps it should blend into your attire more.” He teases, following Danta up to the bar, settling on the stool beside the Maverick, glancing around at the patrons as he always does even if he isn’t feeling up to another altercation as of yet.

He orders something strong and warm that arrives piping hot and steaming, and thankfully being an Ancient allows him the comfort of sipping from it immediately and relishing in the internal heat, before he exhales a soft sigh and tilts his head over to Danta. “Thankfully, it’s like nothing ever happened.”

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

"Me? Blend?" Danta grins, as if the very idea of it is hilarious to him, and he saunters up to the bar to lean against it whilst the butcher takes his usual seat beside him. Whilst Asta orders something hot (and sweet, undoubtedly), the Maverick takes a smooth shot of vodka followed by a cocktail with a sugar rim, though he offers that to the butcher to try first, so Danta might be able to drink it without getting covered in the stuff.

"Mm, things seem as normal as they're ever likely to be," he agrees, glancing about and shaking his head as if to confirm that he can't see anything awry in the Dusklight. "I honestly expected something worse with Longnight," he admits. "Given all the things people had told us to expect, you know?"

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Snorting lightly at the comment, Astaroth very visibly rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to blend into the environment, darling, but maybe try to pair the stripes with something solid as opposed to dots.” He waggles his brow playfully, pausing to take a sip of the steaming mug before setting it down to see Danta offer the cocktail to try, but he knows the underlying request.

And he’s quite happy to oblige, sipping lightly from it to not take too much of the drink, before he runs his tongue along at least half of the rim to rid it of the sugar, the butcher hands it back with a wink. “From what it sounds like, without the Voice around, the monsters in the night have vanished too.” He shrugs casually. “I imagine people have to see it to believe it every year, though.” He says, nodding his chin to a couple that seem to be on edge but trying their best to have a good time.

“It will be easier as the years pass.” He murmurs, drawing the mug back to his lips to take a long slow sip.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

"Oh, are you saying that my current choice of outfit is a bad one?" Danta wonders with a tilt of his head. Not that he cares all that much - he'll pair stripes with dots and dots with squares and feel good about it. Based on the way he's noticed a pair of honey dark eyes roving over his ass on the way down the stairs, though, he doubts it.

Inclining his head gratefully as Asta takes the sugar from his glass, Danta sips at it contently enough, following the other man's gaze to the couple in the corner and humming his soft agreement. "Mm, well here's to being here to see the years pass and the memory fade." Grinning, Danta raises his glass to clink it against Asta's in a toast. "And until then, we'll just keep everyone occupied."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Oh your current choice is quite wonderful, darling.” He drawls, leaning in to brush his shoulder against Danta’s, ruffling the gilded shirt lightly with a small amused smirk. His own glass is lifted to his lips, relishing in the heat and the fuzziness of his mind as the liquor does its job, helped by the two large sips from earlier.

Lifting the mug shortly after to clink it against Danta’s in turn, he snorts and flashes a crooked and sharp grin. “I imagine our ideas of keeping them occupied will vary, but, it most certainly will work.” A soft chuckle escapes him as he goes to take one more sip of the hot drink, setting it back down before leaning back a little to try and stretch out his back. “Other than last night, it’s been quiet.” And he pauses to look over at the Maverick with a raised brow. “I’m surprised you have not had your room stuffed to the brim with people all LongNight.” He teases.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

Preening - because of course he is - Danta settles down onto a stool to enjoy his cocktail and the way the shot of vodka is already making his limbs loose and his chest pleasantly warm. "Occupied is occupied," he says with a shrug of his shoulder, before scoffing out a laugh and nudging his shoulder back against Asta's.

"Who says I haven't?" he teases, mischief sparking in his blue eyes. "I just had them all hide under the bed when you knocked the door." Laughing and setting down his drink, he stretches his arms above his head. "They come and go," he clarifies. "It's quite difficult to get any knitting done with someone between your thighs, you know."

Terribly distracting, it had been.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Ew, they had to listen to my woes?” Astaroth bemoans, amused and far too dramatic — the back of his hand pressing briefly against his forehead to prove the point — before he lets his dark gaze return to the Maverick’s blues with an amused smirk.

It blends into a huff of a laugh, sighing and rolling his eyes. “I can imagine.” Though why he would prefer to knit as opposed to the alternative, Astaroth can’t figure it out. He’s pretty sure he knows the Maverick well enough that it seems wholly out of character.

“Well, what is your plan for this evening, then? Will you be mingling or joining me?” He asks, the alcohol allowing him to preen easier, allowing a slip of honesty to bleed through.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

"I don't think they had to, but some might have been. Others might have been outside the door with a glass pressed to it to listen," Danta reasons with a casual shrug, and he takes up his cocktail again with a smile pressed to the rim of the glass. And of course, if the other man had asked, Danta would have clarified that the reason his 'bowtie' looks the way it does is precisely because the alternative had won out. But whatever.

Finishing the cocktail and promptly ordering another - this one without a sugar rim, sorry Asta - the Maverick tilts his head towards the butcher and flashes him a fanged grin. "I haven't decided yet. Why, what am I joining you in doing? Are we going to walk the perimeter, or stake out some suspicious looking perps?" Letting his eyes glance shiftily around the brothel, he clearly assumes he'll be helping Asta work.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“Oh, but of course.” Astaroth rumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, nursing his mug until it’s empty, sliding it forward and murmuring to the bartender to replace it with a shot of quite literally whatever in terms of liquor. A shot glass is sent back as he inspects it briefly and its dark color, getting a whiff of rum.

Immediately turning his gaze back to the blonde he scoffs, seeing the fanged grin that’s reflected in his own smile that he shoots back. “Not with work, Dantalion, darling.” He drawls, knowing fully well what he’s intentionally done now, letting his gaze rove over the Maverick momentarily — taking in the way the firelight from the lamps reflect in the diamond hues of his horns, the blonde waves of his hair, the sheer golden shirt that had been a gift from the butcher.

Reaching for the shot glass, Astaroth knocks it back with a little hiss at the taste of too many tropical fruits.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

// you knew who I was //

Receiving his second cocktail and bouncing his eyebrows at Asta as he orders a shot on the heels of his own drink, Danta is clearly expecting them to go on some absurd spy mission, half drunk and about as useful as a fireplace in Torchline. Then, of course, his name leaves Asta's lips as he's mid-sip, and the Maverick regards him quietly over the rim of his glass.

"It was the leather pants, wasn't it?" he purrs. "Go on, you can admit it." Taking another drink and leaving the cocktail half finished, he sidles off his barstool and claps the butcher on the shoulder as he takes the shot like a champ. "I'll see you in your room, then," he mutters, just quiet enough for the other man to hear.

And if he reaches out to cheekily pull Asta's tail on the way past, well, who can say it was him? There are a lot of people in the bar, Asta, c'mon.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //