bang bang bang

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

“I had better not, darling.” Asta hums, coy and tired but content nonetheless as Danta succumbs to hunkering beside him, tying up the bag of apples that has threatened to spill over. He waits for the Maverick to get comfortable, before he tilts into the gentle kiss at his cheek and surprisingly accepts the arm that winds around him, tucking himself in against the blonde.

Snorting a warm breath against his neck, the butcher hums a soft note of agreement. The dull thrum of the wagon soothing as it is mind numbing, and he finds his eyes closing contently before he finds it in him to talk. “Think I will.” He makes that choice before he succumbs, just as the Maverick had said. “Wake me when we get there?” He asks, lips brushing against the edge of the blonde’s jaw.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

"Of course I will," Danta says, smiling to feel the soft brush of lips against his jaw, before he's letting the wagon take his full weight and falling quiet to allow the butcher to get some much needed rest. He doesn't know if he manages to drop off himself as they travel, content to feel the road rumble beneath the wagon wheels and to share his warmth with Asta, ensuring he doesn't get jostled around too much.

He does know that it's late by the time they finally arrive at the Inner Quarter, and with the night drawing out, it's chilly as well, even with two Ancients bundled up in the back of a wagon. Hissing in a shivery breath and calling out his thanks to the wagon owner as he tells them they're here, Danta does his best to gently rouse Asta from sleep. "Come on - bed is so close I can taste it," he mumbles through a smile, before scooching out of the wagon to stretch his stiff limps and straighten up.

"Gods, remind me never to forget a coat again when Longheat is over. I'm freezing."

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

It’s like the most comforting power naps, if it weren’t for the fact that it was dark and fucking cold by the time Danta’s rousing him awake. “Already?” It feels like it’s only been two minutes for the butcher. And because of it, he rises easier this time, a hitch of breath that exhales a faint cloud when he shivers the second the blonde’s body isn’t pressed against his anymore.

“I will add it next to my list of do not take so long to satisfy my bloodlust,” Asta muses behind a yawn, pushing himself up and murmuring a thanks to the wagon owner who can only offer his own gratitude as well, before he’s back onto his feet of the familiar cobblestones, antlers and satchel in hand.

His other hand, however, seeks out Danta’s in an uncharacteristic show of affection so publically. Yet as he does and their fingertips intertwine, the butcher dances ribbons of fire along their fingers and palms, careful to not singe sleeves but to at least warm them up.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

"Mm, already. And thank you - I'd appreciate that," Danta quips, smiling to Asta as he slips down from the cart and rubbing at tired eyes. Fully intending to hurry down the steps and into The Last Whisper as soon as they are properly free of the wagon, it's a surprise to say the least to feel Asta's chilled, calloused fingers slipping against his own, and the Maverick pauses in his tracks to glance down between them and smile.

Giving his hand a quick squeeze, grateful for the heat and the reminder of his presence, it's with a quick wave to the wagon owner that Danta leads them onwards. The Dusklight might still be considerably active (midnight is nothing to a brothel, after all), but many of the boutiques and shops that line the boulevard have been closed for some time, such that it's through subdued lanes and alleyways that he leads them home.

"I don't know about you, but it feels as though we've been out for decades," he complains, relaxing only as the Dusklight comes into view.

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

“I know you would.” Comes the sleepy hum, his dark gaze taking note of the smile that blooms across Danta’s handsome face when the butcher clasps their hands together. The squeeze is welcome, and it bursts a bit more flame to circle their fingers and hands, heat pouring from them where they connect and walk through the descending frosty fog.

He’s content to let Danta lead the way, instead taking a moment to peer around him to the closed shops. There are items still in their windows, made more malevolent looking for the lack of light aside from the candles that flicker comfortably among their sills.

His attention only flits back to the Maverick, studying the profile of his face and the smooth curves of his face, seeing how the fire between them sparks the light to dance on the edges of Danta’s sharp cheekbone. “Did we perhaps fall into a stony slumber once again?” He jests, his grin turning sharp and playful despite the tired creases of his gaze. “Whom do you think runs the Dusklight now?” He leans a little closer to his lover with a mischievous, gossipy tone to his accented voice.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

"Gods, if we did I would have expected to wake up feeling a lot more rested," Danta says with a dramatic groan, smiling sidelong at Asta and stepping closer to him as well. "Depending on how long we were asleep, I'm amazed it's still standing," he begins. As for who would own it, though? "My heart says Charlie would lovingly take it over, but my head knows Kiada would be right behind that bar in my office. She'd make a fine theocrat too, probably."

He knows as much, because she already basically does the job when he (often) gets distracted or can't be bothered to read and/or respond to his mail.

Alas, they haven't been asleep for years, and they are greeted with familiar smiles and nods of recognition as they slip in through the doors of the Dusklight. Relaxing instantly at the warmth that caresses his cheeks, the music and the smell of sweet liquor and perfume, the Maverick glances over his shoulder to Asta. "Home sweet home," he croons.

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

A hum of contemplation escapes the butcher before he snorts. “Mm, well, when you woke me, I was most certainly not rested.” He complains in his own dramatic flare. But it’s Danta’s turn to playfully lament all of his sorrows over everything he’s built. The idea of Charlie taking it over is a wonderful thought and the butcher’s tail weaves behind them with a touch more glee despite his exhaustion, and even despite the real reasonable thought of Kiada taking it over. He nods, keeping that sharp smile on his face. “Mm, I could see it.” He muses; though perhaps wondering if Charlie and Kiada would tag team it if only so they didn’t need to do it alone.

Ah, at any rate, the playful fantasy resets once they enter the establishment and warmth greets them tenfold in lieu of the cold that has crept into his chest and the rest of his body. And in a strange twist of events for the butcher, he does put out the flame where his and Danta’s hands are connected but he does not let go. Instead, letting Danta take the lead while he’s still attached, flashing a fond and comfortable smile as he cradles the antlers between his freehand, angling them to ensure he doesn’t accidentally stab someone as they pass.

And when they go to pass by the bar, it’s Asta this time that finally releases Danta’s hand with a mischievous tilt to his too sharp grin, sidling up to the front of the bar with an almost sweet, saccharine lilt to his tone. “Would you kindly bring hot cocoa and a bottle of spiced rum to our room?” It’s a quiet request that Danta could probably hear, despite the butcher’s attempts to keep it hidden, and with the confirmation and knowing smile that the bartender offers, Asta’s casting one look around the Dusklight as if to ensure they kept their minds about them so as to not bother the Maverick and himself. “Would you like anything, darling?” He asks politely and casually as he does his scouting of the Dusklight’s patrons, letting his honey dark gaze land on the Maverick as he finishes his sentence.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

"Ah. Yes, well, you have always been a terrible sleeper," Danta says dryly, as if that's the cause of Asta's rough go of it in his stony slumber. In truth the Maverick can't remember how he felt when he was brought back from his time as a statue, but hell, it can't have been all that bad, right? Right.

Regardless, with their game of make believe coming to an end with the far more preferable reality of the Dusklight around them, Danta has paused to have a conversation with someone as the butcher stops at the bar, though his fingers do grasp for him momentarily as his hand slips away. He's too distracted to hear what Asta requests, too (lucky you), and despite his exhaustion, the Maverick is ever the social butterfly, entertaining the conversation until the person is satisfied and departs.

"Sorry about that," he purrs, turning back towards Asta and bumping his shoulder against the other man's affectionately. "I have everything I need, thank you. Shall we head up? It's been a long night to say we did nothing but sit in the back of a wagon."

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

“Not always,” the butcher retorts around his laugh, rolling his eyes affectionately. There had been a time, long ago where he had slept quite well. But that was before tearing flesh and too sharp beaks and the cries of meat and eyes had traumatized him.

At any rate, they part, even as Astaroth mourns the loss of the warmth of the Maverick’s hand. It doesn’t last long as he makes his request and thankfully has it hidden from Danta as he stops to mingle. Feeling sly and yet still content, the butcher leans into the touch without a single care if anyone sees — exhaustion wearing him down into being clingy. His shoulder is bumped as he flashes that smile to the Maverick and he aims to snag Danta’s hand again, the butcher’s tail curling affectionately like a cat against the other man’s leg.

“Mhm, I would love nothing more.” He nods to the bartender already prepping things before he starts to take the lead, antlers in one hand along with the satchel at his belt, his other hopefully still within Danta’s grasp. The trek is a quick one, and any lingering tension in his shoulders begin to lessen with each step up the awful stairs to their bedroom. The door swings open and he steps aside, letting the Maverick step in first.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

Danta's hand slips into the butcher's without complaint, comfortably tangling their fingers just as Asta takes the lead for them to head upstairs. "Good," he purrs; after the ride in the chill of the night, the Maverick is also feeling quite tired, though it's nothing on the scale of Asta's exhaustion, and so he's happy to help tug him up the stairs when they reach them. "Ugh, I didn't think I could miss a room so much," he says with a relieved sigh as he swans into their shared space.

Fire roars to life in the hearth and in the various lanterns and candles dotted around the room, Danta turning to ferry Asta further inside so he might relieve him of the antlers he carries and the satchel around his waist. Setting both down on a nearby table, it's of little surprise that he works on the butcher's wrinkled shirt next, trying to sneak warm hands against his cool skin.

"Well done for making it home." He grins.

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

A gentle laugh accompanies Danta’s comment, a nod offered in agreement as they climb the dastardly stairs. “Ah, but it is our room. And I am also quite fond of it.” Bouncing his brow lightly when he glances back at the Maverick, the butcher’s smile seems permanently affixed. It remains even as they step in and the flame is sparked, and he’s ferried further into the room and greeted by the fire.

The antlers and satchel are given up easily, despite how he seems to refuse to drift away from the Maverick’s warmth, clinging to the quite faint citrus scent and the more vibrant sage that clings to him tenfold when he swans back over to start to tug at his wrinkled shirt. “Well done to you for your quick thinking, love.” Comes the hum of agreement.

And perhaps it’s the exhaustion that overcomes him, but he doesn’t help the Maverick as he unbuttons the shirt. If anything, he’s more of a problem when he reaches up to cup the sides of his face and dive in for a kiss, a greedy one despite its chasteness when the door opens and the cocoa and rum are brought in.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

My quick thinking? Danta wants to query, but he's not one to turn down a compliment when he receives one, and besides which, anything he might say is quickly stifled by the warm, sweet press of Asta's lips. Letting his hands graze down the butcher's sides before looping around his waist, he's quite forgotten about the shirt he'd been in the process of taking off, only drawing back as he realises they have company.

"Mm? I didn't ord-- oh, you. Sneaky." Grinning and murmuring his thanks to the bartender, Danta pushes Asta's shirt over his shoulders at last and helps him out of it. He doesn't bother to fold it since it will absolutely need to be washed, instead dropping it over the back of a chair so he can go and sniff at the rum and cocoa. "Are we spiking it?" he wonders of the cocoa. "Or is this for you and the rum is for me?"

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?

Yes Danta, your quick thinking for ensuring his clothes are dry and keeping him warm until they found a wagon. Obviously.

For the first time ever, the butcher had not locked the door. And it’s kudos to the bartender for not simply assuming it was locked so he could bring it in, because he certainly doesn’t want to part too long from the warm circle of an embrace the Maverick has given him as he presses into the warm kiss when their cocoa is dropped off.

And when Danta’s rumble of a voice greets him, there’s mischief that glimmers in the depths of honey dark eyes. “I am glad you noticed.” His sneakiness, he supposes. He’s not entirely sure. What he does know is he’s tired to the point where he feels almost loopy.

But he shrugs out of the shirt with ease as it’s pushed down from his shoulders, and he trails after the Maverick to rest a warm hand at the small of his back, while his other hand plucks the bottle to dump a generous amount into his cup. “I am certainly spiking mine, however if you’d rather only sip from the bottle, I will keep my judgement to myself.” He sets the bottle down and sticks a finger into the cup to stir it together, withdrawing it shortly after to stick the digit into his mouth.

Astaroth

come a little closer

idealism sits in prison
chivalry fell on his sword

Smiling to feel the butcher at his back, his gentle chaos is endearing to say the least, and Danta reminds himself to concoct similar scenarios in future if for no other reason than because he quite enjoys Asta's overtired shenanigans. "You might keep your judgement to yourself verbally, but your face will give it away every second," he quips, laughing softly and rescuing the bottle of rum to spike his own cocoa.

Stirring it with a finger as well, he offers it out for Asta - snatching it away should there be any teeth involved, thank you very much - and swans away to lock the door. Once he's done, he returns for his mug of rum-cocoa, taking a slow sip of it and humming his approval. "You have the best ideas," he purrs, setting down the mug and proceeding to peel off his own clothes, ready to collapse in bed.

Dantalion

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door