[SE] safety off, fire away

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

It’s a heat that lingers, even as his arm loosens enough for Danta to reach for his melting margarita, and while he thinks about what exactly the blonde is asking of him, he’s suddenly silent and contemplative. Unsure where to actually parse his thoughts for once, he’s distracted as the long tips of his fingers trade those designs across the Theocrat’s bare chest over and over again.

Slower and slower.

And while everyone might agree with the idea that he’s a romantic, with all the charm and charisma he harbors, the butcher knows only half of it is truly sincere. The other half, entirely for show.


Danta’s nose — slightly colder than it had been thanks to the rim of the frozen drink — does bring him back as intended, and it’s with a huff of a sound that could be considered a laugh that Asta’s fingertips pick up their pace in those idle designs. “I think I have a tendency to show people what they would like. However, it is a facade.” Comes the quieter admission, hornless head tilting a little as he thinks. “Much of it was learned when I became Ancient. I imagine I do not need to tell you that Whitebrim cannibals are very rarely romantic?” Here he tilts his head again, trying to catch a sidelong glance at Danta. “There is no thought, there only is the action. Want is something that was not afforded to us unless it was food.” That had been a learned trait.

That had been taught by Dygra. And gods, he is eternally grateful.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"Mm, I have noticed as much," Danta purrs, and though he thoroughly enjoys the facade for what it is when Asta is at his most comfortable, he enjoys it even more when the mask falls away to reveal the true butcher beneath. "You may have given the impression that they were not," he agrees of the Whitebrim cannibals. "And yes, I guessed you had learned your charm after you gained your horns. From who, I have no idea." Climb Ancients were hardly romantics either, after all.

Reaching up to tilt the other man's chin gently towards him, Danta's smile is as mischievous as it is genuine, and he leans in to press a chaste, gentle kiss to the other man's lips. "So what is it that you want, now that you've had the time to learn it all?" he wonders. He's not sure how much he can provide here on the beach, but he'll do his damndest if the butcher lets him know.

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

It’s a bittersweet mixture to know that Danta has seen the differences, after he’d worked so hard on trying to keep his mask infallible. But it’s likely the reason that he’d only been allowed out in bursts, never allowed to get close enough to another to see the fine cracks in the porcelain. But here? There’s no one to keep him from it, and Danta gets to see the fine splits in the masks up close and personal.

“It was a lovely little city.” He murmurs, nostalgic for a moment. “I cannot remember precisely where it was, but they had all kinds of generous people. The people there taught me what I know in terms of manners and clothing options. They also taught me how to read and write.” Easy admissions made only to Danta, for obvious reasons.

His head tilts as Danta’s slender warm fingers guide him in for a kiss, and it's a distraction from thinking too hard on the question posed. He presses into the kiss, even if it’s chaste and not at all as much as he wants, before he pulls away slightly to let his honeyed gaze scan the vibrant blues of the Maverick’s as the words fall from his lips. “You.” The arm wrapped around Danta’s shoulders lifts slightly, hand trailing up the side of his jaw to thread his own fingers through blonde, salt kissed hair.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"It sounds it. Though I daresay things weren't quite always so lovely with you around?" He raises his eyebrows, smirking. Whether an Ancient or a Whitebrim cannibal, to say that Asta has needs would be putting it mildly. They all do, of course, but the butcher's are much more specific. "I taught myself in the year after I woke up, before I headed down to Torchline. Well - taught myself better, I guess." He'd known the basics, his letters and a few rudimentary spellings, but literacy wasn't exactly supposed to be one of the Maverick's major skills.

Having expected something like dinner and dancing or someone to murder or even something like a sunhat, as Danta draws back from the other man's lips, to hear that one word caress the air between them has him flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Shivering out a breath and smacking Asta in the chest half playfully, as if he's been audacious by saying something like that, eventually Danta gets over himself and tugs the butcher closer by his garish scarlet shirt.

"Okay, but you already have me," he points out, lips lingering against his own. "Unless you meant in a more immediate way, in which case I will be more than happy to oblige you."

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

“Not in the slightest.” He agrees with a smile that turns a touch bloodthirsty, a glimmer of mischief sparking in the amber of his gaze. “But at the very least that town knew what Ancients were about, decided that sating me was better than the potential attack from many more Ancients.” Not that Astaroth held any sway like that. But, what they didn’t know benefitted him greatly, and he gladly utilized it to its maximum. And because of it, no witch-hunts.

Hearing about Danta’s lessons, though, sparks intrigue deep in his chest. “Well, if there is anything you deem to be lacking, I will try my best to help.” He offers easily, though it had never crossed his mind whether or not Danta struggled with any of it. Reading and writing, that is.

But that moment passes quite quickly as he doesn’t have time to think of the answer with it tumbling from his lips on a breath of too much honesty and a light buzz of alcohol to keep him from keeping it locked behind his shark teeth. Instead, he sees Danta’s face flush a color to nearly match his shirt, and with the swatting he nearly realizes what he’d said, and with a heartbeat of a second to think about the slight rejection back in the Sparkbird’s Nest, to say there’s an uncharacteristic slosh of anxiety that enters his stomach is an understatement.

Ah, but then he’s being pulled closer and it quells like the Maverick is parting the sea of his emotions. “I want you in any and every way at any time.” Comes the follow-up admission now that he knows it’s fine. “I am a simple man, surprisingly. I know. Yet I think the closest I ever got to having my idea of a perfectly romantic date was with the deer at the Temple.” The chase, the blood, the sating of their combined bloodlust’s and indulging in their normal lust. It was as close to perfect as he could imagine, so long as the man he does it with doesn’t change.

And after a moment of letting that sit, the fingers running through golden threads tighten slightly, keeping him still to claim a less chaste kiss this time.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"Look at you, terrorising the neighbourhood even all those years ago," Danta drawls, easily able to imagine the butcher striding through the streets all dressed to the nines, his cane clicking against the cobbles and a too-sharp smile on his face. It's a welcome image, honestly, the Maverick letting a smile flicker across his face despite the flush that remains on his cheeks. "Ah, I get by. My letters are just usually very short and to the point," Danta says with a shrug. He also leaves the vast majority of the correspondence to Kiada, if Asta hasn't noticed already.

The butcher needn't worry about any rejection, either; since their admissions back in Haulani, whilst it's true that there's occasional awkwardness or hurdles to jump or things to discuss that are more necessary than before, if anything Danta only wants Asta more now than he ever has done. A dark laugh rumbles up from his chest to hear the other man's admission, the Maverick close enough to brush his nose against Asta's. "I don't think you are a simple man at all," he whispers, though he absolutely does pack that idea away for future dates, before the butcher is leaning forward to steal his lips and his breath in one.

Moaning soft surprise into his kiss, the hand against Asta's shirt slips up and through his dark hair, Danta already shifting to swing a leg across the other man to sit in his lap. "Next time you can wear your Dusklight Bodyguard outfit," he suggests. "And then I'll be the one who has to stand still for the tailor."

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

Oh but of course he terrorized neighborhoods even back then. He’s terrorized them since before he became Ancient, although in far less of a gentlemanly way — before he’d learned how to restrain the savagery that lingered in his bones. As for Danta getting by, he’s well aware of it — having seen the correspondence that goes directly to the Maverick rather than Grounds officials, and how Kiada typically managed those.

Their offices were just across the way from one another, anyway. He doesn’t miss much.

The dark laugh that rumbles up from Danta’s chest is the last nail in the coffin that harbors Astaroth’s worries, one bubbling from his own chest as he challenges the thought. “No?” He imagines it’s very simple. Danta and blood and he found himself quite happy and content. Did there need to be less to be considered simple? He didn’t have a laundry list of requirements, after all.

But he doesn’t give the blonde a chance to respond as he leans in and steals a true kiss from the other Ancient’s perfect lips. And with the hands in his hair and the readjustment of the Maverick to fully sit in his lap, the butcher peers up at him when the kiss breaks, both hands rising to cup the sides of his face and thread through golden hair, while all of him seems to remain entirely mundane. No horns or tail for show.

Dark brows lift and he smirks a little, sharp teeth on display even as he considers it. “You just prefer me without much in terms of clothing. But I will not say no to see you poked and prodded.” He hums, leaning in to Danta’s face to push him back ever so slightly as his hands drop so that he can shrug out of the red shirt, leaving his torso bare for the other man’s wandering hands. “Dare I say I may even be looking forward to it.” The grin that spreads is cocky as it is sure, and he settles back in a touch of a tease to let his back rest against the board once more, the sun reflecting on the sand casting shadows along the patchwork of scarring on his chest.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"No," Danta repeats, his fingers curling through the back of Asta's hair and down towards the nape of his neck. "You just spend too much time in your own head. You probably think it's all quite simple." The balance of trauma, bloodlust, cruelty and affection is a very fine one, in the Maverick's opinion, and it has taken them seasons of dancing around each other to get it just right. And even then, it's not fool-proof. "Luckily for you, I like to think I know you quite well at this point." The good and the bad, just as Asta knows the same about him.

Leaning into the hands that sweep along his cheeks and up through his hair, Danta reaches up to untie it from its hasty knot, letting it fall back around his shoulders. "Now that isn't true," he objects, even as his blue eyes do light up to see the butcher keeping his promise and removing his shirt, baring his scars to the world. "If I didn't think you'd be mortified at wrinkling your shirt, I'd have you fuck me in a suit. No one wears one quite like you," he informs him with a sly raise of his brows, before his fingers are smoothing across scarred skin in a touch as gentle as his earlier ministrations had been firm.

Still, being poked and prodded for Asta's amusement does sound like something both of them can enjoy to some extent, and Danta adds it to a mental checklist for them to get to when they next feel like going out. "I've been looking forward to this," he replies nevertheless, shifting with Asta as he leans back so he can press warm lips to his chest and collarbones, in no rush whatsoever to be anywhere else.

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

The fingers that curl at the nape of his neck draw goosebumps along his shoulders and neck, rising beneath the Theocrat’s fingertips. “My head is a wonderful place to be, whatever do you mean?” It’s a soft tease, even as Danta releases his hair and lets it spill along the butcher’s surprisingly gentle touch, only able to concede the point that the butcher knows the Maverick knows him the best. Especially now, between the loose lips of his panic attacks and simply being there steadfast with him through them.

He’s suddenly struck with the thought that had things not gone how they were, he’d never have someone to fully understand just how everything affected him. It’s both terrifying and wonderful.

It settles into a golden string through the black void of his heart, though, bypassing the thread to let the beaming, shark tooth grin meet the Maverick’s face in as sunny of a grin as he can. “I have certain shirts I am more willing to let get wrinkled…” He purrs, absolutely noticing the light that enters the Theocrat’s gaze at the reveal of his skin.

Slipping the shirt over to the side in a half fold that would leave it more wrinkle free than it would have been otherwise, the butcher leans back to let Danta’s hands trail along his skin, followed by the other Ancient’s lips. His hands lift, running along Danta’s sides toward his spine, trailing his fingertips up along the juts of his vertebrae. “Then indulge, darling. It’s vacation.” Comes the breathy purr, head tilting back to expose his neck more, without any care of his horns getting in his way.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"You're quite a good liar, Asta, but I don't believe a word of what you just said," Danta murmurs against the other man's collarbones, his laughter little more than a warm breath of air shivering across bronzed skin. Sure, he imagines the butcher's mind might be quite entertaining when he's in one of his bloodier moods but, not unlike Danta, he thinks Asta probably wants to step out of his own head more often than not, too.

Luckily today is not one of those days, and it's with thoughts of crisp, tailored shirts creasing and ripping beneath his fingertips that Danta drags his lips further across the slope of the other man's shoulders and up to his throat. He leans flush against the taller Ancient once's he's settled himself back quite comfortably, the Maverick's back arching beneath the touch of his warm, calloused hands. "I have every intention of doing just that," he mumbles, and as Asta's head tips back it's Danta's turn to claim the other man as his own, leaving a dark and obvious mark against the side of his neck and peppering the hurt with kisses once he's done.

"Gods, I could do this to you all day," he whispers, leaning up suddenly to snatch a real kiss from Asta's lips, as if unable to bear being apart from them for a moment longer.

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

It’s a dark rumble of amusement that escapes the butcher’s throat, vibrating along where Danta presses his lips and joins the blonde’s own laughter as he claims that the taller Ancient is lying. To be honest? He is, but he’d at least choose his over everyone else’s head. And right now, he doesn’t think of much more other than the warm and soft press of the Maverick’s lips against his skin.

His hands continue their stroking and designing of random patterns along the Maverick’s spine as he tilts his chin up, dark eyes closing contently to feel just how Danta blankets him so snugly, there’s the pull of a smirk that tugs on his lips, one that remains even as those lips begin to lay claim to the olive hued column of his neck. “Good—” He breathes, starting off strong until Danta’s claiming his neck with a mark that is already throbbing and red and will soon be shitting colors.

The sharp pressure of it has his fingertips digging in roughly against his spine, a light gasp passing from his lips with the inhale of breath, and before he has a chance to say anything the Maverick is snatching a true kiss. And Astaroth wants nothing more than to be devoured in that moment. He presses into it greedily, hands smoothing over the soft pale skin of the other Ancient to rest at his hips, digging his fingertips in enough to make marks of his own in the shape of his fingers. And all the while he sweeps his tongue across Danta’s lower lip, mindful enough to keep his teeth at bay for the moment, to press back into the kiss with a soft and content hum that nearly seems to say then lets do it all day.

The butcher would never complain.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

Asta tastes like rum and lime and spearmint, and Danta relishes the taste as he leans in further, curling an arm around the other man's bare shoulders. Malleable beneath the butcher's possessive grip, there's no doubt that he'll wear these new bruises with as much pride as any of the others he's received - given long enough, given the rest of the day - there might even be other new ones to boast.

It's a mix of needing to breathe properly as well as the way all the heat in his bones seems to have fled straight south that has Danta eventually drawing back, mere inches from Asta's lips as he pants to catch his breath. An unapologetic smile kicks up the corner of his mouth, and he tilts his head at the other man. "I'll admit, I was expecting you to be a little more reserved," he whispers, the words practically mumbled into the butcher's mouth.

"Keep this up and we'll end up giving the beach a show, one way or another."

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

so what, my friend, whatever will it be?
i can give you what you crave, just not for free

Despite having not liked Danta’s drink, it’s sweeter and far more appealing when it comes from the Maverick himself — so he indulges himself in turn, diving into the kiss and his possessive hands, chasing after the feeling of the weight of the other Ancient’s arms around his bare shoulders and his body that fits perfectly against his own. But they part and the air between them despite its warmth feels so cold in comparison, his chest heaving as his dark gaze, made into a warm honey with the reflection of sun around them, focuses on the dusty blues of the blonde’s own.

“It’s vacation, darling, isn’t the entire point to be less reserved?” He responds, nosing against Danta’s own nose briefly before he captures a brief and chaste kiss to let him finish talking. “Would you like that?” He purrs curiously, hornless head cocking as his hair falls over his temple, a small smirk growing on the corner of his lips. “You would make a fair few jealous around here, if the time you were gone have anything to say about it.” Comes his accented taunt, head withdrawing slightly to give him a playful matter of fact look.

Astaroth

you know what's on the line

Dantalion

but you can't be free

"I mean, I'm not sure I could get any less reserved," Danta points out with a smile that's increasingly running away with itself. The only reason he's even stopped to check with Asta is because he knows the other man's proclivities can run hot or cool depending on the circumstances (and yes, whilst it ought to have been quite obvious given that they're making out on the beach, he doesn't want to fuck it up, okay?)

Closing his eyes at the warm lips that come to land upon his own, he resists the urge to shift them enough to pin the butcher down - just about, anyway. "I would adore making people jealous that I get to put my hands on you," he whispers, his voice dropping low, his kisses migrating along the butcher's jaw towards the shell of his ear.

"Or that I get to hear you gasp, and moan, and lose complete control of yourself," he adds, and it's Danta's turn to nip at the other man's earlobe, hard enough to make a point without necessarily drawing blood. "You know, if that's what you want as well."

'cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!