somewhere in the between

// day breaks sorrow //

“Of course, darling.” He says softly, not pushing or encouraging in any way. Today, with the announcement, was more than enough. Later, when it’s settled, when Asta can slowly start to introduce it to the other Ancient without the full barrage of it. But at least the warning is there - the admission before either of them are taken by surprise. Even still, the butcher’s careful to take a quick glance around to ensure he hasn’t let his shadow slip. Finding it perfectly in place, he gives Danta a gentle squeeze before he’s withdrawing and padding across the room with ease.

Snagging the beautiful crystal decanter with amber liquid swirling inside, the butcher snags a couple glasses. “I do not blame you. For what it is worth, you have done beautifully thus far.” He murmurs with a soft smile, glancing over to his lover before he’s pouring them both a knuckle’s worth of the whiskey.

Returning to Danta’s side with a suave cadence, he hands him the glass, holding his delicately as he takes in the open floor and the furniture pushed aside. “I will never say no to another opportunity of getting you dressed in such finery.” His free hand lifts, trailing along the bone and gold chains that drape him.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Giving himself a chance to calm his rabbiting pulse as Asta departs to fetch the glasses and decanter, whilst Danta is beginning to resent the corset all over again, he doesn't touch it, merely taking a few deep breaths (well, as deep as he can) and focusing on the here and now. Blinking his eyes open in time for the butcher's return, it's with a smaller if not more genuine smile that he accepts his whiskey, smoothly shooting it back in one swift gulp.

"That's good to know," he says, voice roughened by the burn of the alcohol, though he's nonetheless pleased to know that his performance in their 'ballroom' has been sufficient for the day, even it was only half a lesson at best. "Well, I could probably be persuaded into finery whenever you like, so long as you are the one dressing me in it," he confesses, gazing down at the delicate chainwork draped across his chest and shoulders.

"Maybe next time we could even clear out space on the main floor of the Dusklight. Make a night of it."

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

He tries to prolong pouring the drinks for Danta to have enough time to recover - but it doesn’t stop him from glancing over now and then as he pours the glasses and steps back into his lover’s orbit - hoping that he isn’t still just as panicky as he had before. All shadows and horns in place, though, the butcher takes a smaller sip of his own while Danta downs all of his, and he hands his glass to Danta in case he wants a little bit extra.

“Dressing you in it or taking you out of it?” He asks with a playful smile, trying to pull him from the space he’d gone to with the realization that the butcher was back to his perfectly haunting self. His fingertips withdraw from the bone and gold chains, to instead smooth out with warm heat across his open back, between his shoulder blades under the draped golden chains.

He perks up with the offer, though, fingertips twitching at his lover’s back. “Oh? Perhaps we could fashion it up as a masquerade?” He murmurs thoughtfully - give people a reason to delve in without it being so formal for the debauchery that occurred at the Dusklight.

Daydreaming for a few moments, the butcher’s attention returns to the Maverick and the slate grey corset he wears, head tilting slightly as he considers it. “Would you like out of it, now?” He asks, voice tender and gentle. Nearly cautious.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Yes," Danta replies cheerfully - and it's true that he'd very much enjoyed being dressed by the butcher today, though of course he's always happy to have Asta remove his clothes as well. He accepts the other man's glass with a grateful nod, knocking that back as well once he's taken his sip, relishing the warmth that spreads through his chest and down his limbs, waiting patiently for it to take the edge off the parts of him that still want to back up against a wall somewhere, just in case.

A masquerade has him intrigued, he can't deny, the Maverick raising his eyebrows up at Asta. "That sounds like fun. But," he croons, "I'm not sure if you'll manage to fool anyone that you aren't exactly who you are." The butcher's presence, if not his height, will give him away instantly, though Danta isn't sad about that either if it means he'll be able to find him in a crowd.

Focusing on the starburst of warmth across his back from the other man's fingers, his offer is a touch surprising, though the more Danta considers it the easier it is for him to nod. "I would," he admits. "This can stay, though. I think I can make it work." Half smiling, he gestures to the bones and chains draped around him.

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

Watching with a warm glimmer in his gaze, it absolutely hides the concern that he masks with perfected ease. He hopes the dash of liquid courage will help the other Ancient relax, but with no way of knowing, the least he can do is try to pretend everything is back to normal, cautious of his movements in case it sets Danta off. For now, everything is good and easy, and Asta continues to make sure his movements aren’t a surprise and that his Haunt doesn’t make an untimely appearance, latching onto the masquerade idea with ease.

“Oh I am positive many will know exactly who I am, but that is half the fun, no? Pretending?” He suggests, waggling his brows as if for emphasis that while they’d know who was who regardless, the pretending was where it would excel. He could pretend to be the tall, dark, handsome and mysterious visitor to those that approached without them fully knowing just who he has.

Even if the shark-tooth smile he boasts would completely give it away.

His fingers warm further along soft skin, waiting to see if Danta did wish for him to help him out of the corset, and when the answer is given Asta can’t hide the vibrant smile that blooms in his face at the reasoning. “I was hoping you would say that, darling.” It had been his most self indulgent accessory, and before he takes a moment to drift behind the Maverick and out of his general line of sight, he softens the surprise with leaning in for a gentle kiss, soft and apologetic.

Stepping behind him, now, his fingers expertly drift down his spine to the tie, undoing it before he’s loosening the corset enough that Danta would be able to step out of it. The rush of relief for his lungs should be immediate, allowing him a chance to take as deep of a breath as he wants. And for the trouble? Asta presses another gentle kiss to the top of his shoulder - slowly, carefully, to ensure there is no surprises.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Mm, I suppose you're right. I hope you won't be pretending for me, though. I'd quite like to be your partner in crime for the evening, especially if it's a party and people aren't sure who's who." Grinning to himself and rolling his empty glass between his hands, Danta just about resists the urge to ask for the decanter a second time. It can wait, he decides, at least until he's free of the corset.

Smiling knowingly at the butcher's approval of his decision to keep his jewellery on, Danta glances around at Asta just in time to catch the kiss he aims against his lips. Warm and almost guilty in its gentleness, the Maverick nibbles at the other man's lower lip as if to assure him that he's alright. It doesn't stop the instinctive tension that ripples across his shoulders to have him out of sight behind him, but he does his best to squash it down.

Easy enough as the corset is unlaced and eased away from his pale flesh, Danta inhaling a deep breath and letting it out again, his sigh free and unburdened, leaving him just a little lightheaded. "Gods, that's better. Thank you."

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

A low chuckle leaves Asta to hear Danta’s question, mischief flooding his gaze and a glint of happiness to see Danta playing with him, even while he still isn’t so sure that the realization of the haunt won’t send his lover into a spiral at some other point. For now, he can tenderly and gently play along in turn. “Of course not, darling. You and I make the most beautiful team, no?” It’s a proud boast, the butcher’s chest nearly puffing out as he dives in for the gentle kiss.

Withdrawing and being careful as he slips around behind Danta, the corset is taken off nearly as quickly as he’d put it on. And once his lover has stepped out of it, Asta folds it gently and tucks the laces in to set it aside, before returning to the Maverick’s side. “You are quite welcome, love.” He knows how Danta gets when it comes to restrictions. Whether it be through clothing or physical restrictions.

“Come with me.” He hums, the question soft but with an edge of please laced into the tone, offering his arm to take Danta with him to the little mini bar, snagging the decanter again to fill their glasses. This time, he fills his lover’s glass double the amount he fills his with, before setting it down and taking a sip from his own glass, giving Danta’s arm a gentle squeeze.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"We certainly do," Danta agrees all too easily, more than happy to dwell on their teamwork rather than Asta's revelation and the nightmare that sleeps in his bones once more. Humming a note of soft surprise at the request, the Maverick nonetheless slips his arm into the butcher's and follows him across the room, feeling much more free and thoroughly enjoying the weight of the chain draped around him, warmed by his body heat.

"Oh, I see," he purrs, raising his eyebrows but absolutely not complaining as he's offered a double measure of whiskey. Danta sips it this time, at least, no longer feeling the need to immediately medicate himself quite so sharply, leaning gently against Asta. "If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get me drunk," he says with a playful wink. "Do you want to go and get dinner with this, at least? That way I won't end up falling asleep before the sun sets."

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

It was much easier to think about what nightmares they could be together rather than apart - and for that, the butcher dwells on all those possibilities rather than the ones that were of centuries past. So he offers his arm for Danta to take, taking the other Ancient with him until they get to the little bar section of their room again, pouring a double for Danta and a single for himself. The sip the Maverick takes is one that the butcher notes to be less trying to drown and more social, like the buzz has already settled enough to take the discomfort and edge off.

His arm snakes around the Theocrat, keeping him against him as he lowers his glass from his own sip, amusement writ in his features. “You seemed like you could use it.” He hums, though it wasn’t entirely Danta that needed to take a bit of an edge off. Asta feels stiff in comparison, so when the question comes of snagging food, the butcher takes the rest of his glass in one swoop.

“Was there anything in particular you were craving? My treat.” He purrs, voice roughened by the whiskey. “Our new chef swap has added echo shark to the Longheat menu.” Bouncing a brow with an almost sing-song tone, the smile that follows is sharp and bright, amusement evident in the flick of his tail.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Mm, I think we could both use it a bit," Danta agrees with a small smile, though he's doing his best to let Asta's little revelation go and to warm back up to the remainder of the day, ballroom or no ballroom. Taking another sip of his whiskey - and raising his eyebrows over his glass to see Asta shooting his back - the Maverick is at least wise enough not to follow suit, lowering his drink and tilting his head.

The sing-song voice has him sold on echo shark in an instant, though Danta can't help but laugh at the idea of it being Asta's treat in the Dusklight. "You know we live here and I own the place, right?" He grins. "But yes, that sounds great to me. Come on, let's go show everyone how dashing you are down on the main floor." Gesturing for Asta to go ahead, Danta intends to quickly finish his whiskey before following, but then he'll be right at his heels.

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

Admittedly, the butcher isn’t sure if it’s a good idea that Danta comes with him - not after what he knows the Dusklight is whispering about beneath their feet. But he doesn’t try to change his lover’s mind, not when he’s finally starting to be open and jest with him in return, all while Asta’s smile remains bright and vibrant, hiding any anxieties that might linger under his skin.

“I do know. And it is still my treat.” He flashes a wink - because while neither of them did have to pay, Asta would still be the one that could treat him to the meal regardless. And so, with the agreement made, the butcher sets his empty glass down. “Ah, I wear these regularly. I think everyone will be distracted by you.” He hums softly, tail still flicking contently as he turns to head toward the door, stepping out of it and letting Danta catch up as soon as he can.

Closing the door behind the other Ancient, he snags his arm again as they descend the stairs into the bustling Dusklight once more. Already offering quiet nods to those of the staff, it doesn’t stop the whispers from blooming as they make their presence known. There’s appreciation from those more bold to say it loudly for Danta’s golden attire, but there’s the hushed commentary of Asta’s shadows and their smiles, the way his horns look shorter now than they had the last time he was here, the way his smile seems more normal and less sharp and hard to see.

Ignoring those the best he can and hoping that Danta does, too, he snags them one of their favorite booths with a clear line of sight to the bar. “Echo shark andddd what else?” He hums, glancing over toward the bar as he thinks. “They have paired it with a salad of some kind, but…” The butcher’s nose wrinkles at the idea of eating leaves when there was plenty of meat options, but he leaves it open for Danta to decide, his dark gaze flitting back to his face to subtly ensure that he’s doing okay.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Oh I'm not sure they'll be all too surprised to see me wearing something that isn't technically a shirt," Danta croons, gesturing at the links of bone and chain that glitter against his chest. "Maybe they won't even look twice at the two of us. Wouldn't that be tragic?" Scoffing under his breath, he makes a mental note to request that, the next time they ballroom dance, to be as suitably and finely dressed as the butcher. That would be a real surprise.

Following at Asta's heels, his own tail curled a little too casually around his leg, he slips his arm through the other man's and sets his mask suitably in place as they emerge onto the main floor of the Dusklight. If Danta notices the quiet glances at Asta and his shadows, he pointedly doesn't follow their eyes, and if he catches any mutterings, he plays dumb about it.

At least he's able to accept the praise for his own attire with as much aplomb as ever, sidling into their booth and raising a hand towards the bar for a bottle of wine to be brought over. "But that sounds boring and tasteless," he purrs, saying what Asta is too polite to voice with a smirk. "How about steak? We can have the salad as well, for show, and then surf and turf to actually sate us."

Dantalion

// day breaks sorrow //

Something technically not a shirt was definitely along the lines of what the Maverick is currently wearing, but for the intents and purposes of his usual clothing - this one is elevated. Golden, glittering macabre with the bones that warm from the other Ancient’s skin, it’s brilliant as it is distracting enough to attract a multitude of eyes - either in appreciation or as a warning.

“I would be absolutely distraught.” The butcher vows quietly, letting the hum of a laugh follow his words to lessen the dramatics with which he speaks. The din of the Dusklight is always welcoming, even if the butcher is quietly on alert for anyone to utter the show he’d given them all not that long before.

Relieved to get into the booth without too much said about his own nightmarish self, the butcher’s scan of Danta seems to align with everything being alright. So he loosens the breath he’d had tucked into his lungs for the explanation in favor for grinning at his lover when he speaks precisely what’s on the butcher’s mind.

“That sounds lovely.” He agrees, glancing up when the glasses of wine are brought over, along with the bottle so they can top up as much as needed. Asta makes his order swiftly, ensuring that the steak is on the basically rare with a little bit of warmth side. Fixing up his bloodlust post party in Torchline had been a bit of a challenge when it came to the hangover he’d woken up with, so it hadn’t lasted as long as he’d hoped.

Either way, he lets Danta order for himself, mentally checking with how he orders to determine if they both needed to go out for a hunt sooner rather than later.

Astaroth

// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Trilling his approval to the server as they bring the bottle over, while Asta orders Danta makes a point of pouring a hefty glass for himself and the butcher, tucking the bottle down into its bucket of ice to keep chilled. He's taken a long sip of crisp white wine by the time its his turn to arrange his food - and the fact that his steak is similarly bloody and rare and his shark is basically sashimi ought to tell Asta everything he needs to know.

The only thing on Danta's mind, though, is the soft booth cushion at his back, the wine in his hand, and the man beside him; sidling closer as if the noise of the Dusklight - whatever they might be saying, exactly - has served to calm him even more, he lets his free hand drift down to rest atop the butcher's thigh. "Well," he murmurs conversationally, "I'm glad to see that the hot weather hasn't discouraged anyone from enjoying themselves."

The main floor is as busy as ever, he's pleased to note, though people are much more scantily clad than usual - and that's saying something.

Dantalion