I'm where the spiders go

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“So thoughtful.” Comes the quiet purr of affection, testing waters and boundaries as he lets the smile tug back onto his face, awkward only from the soreness and bruise that likely hides under the dressing. He lets Danta look, though, and when there’s no red that peeks through, the butcher waits patiently for him to respond before he moves. “I am sure, love.” His voice is softer here, gentler as he turns, flattening onto his back to snag the painkillers and a glass of water admittedly left out from the day before. It should work, at least.

Taking the prescribed amount and settling back in, he relaxes almost immediately to not feel the tensing of muscles against the wound with the movement, exhaling a slow breath. “Tea sounds lovely.” He nearly whines at the thought, before he shakes his head and flashes the Maverick a softer smile. “I will need to change the bandage and clean the wound, soon. Perhaps then we can make tea and retreat back in here.” His tail slips against the soft sheets, curling around Danta’s leg in another quiet test, reaching up with his hand to cup the blonde’s cheek and brush his thumb across the jut of his cheekbone. “You will let me know if you start to not feel okay, yes?”

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

Up here in the warm familiarity of their bedroom, at least, Danta seems to have settled into something more like his usual self. Still quiet, still subdued, as if his mind is still trying to wrap itself around something colossal and dark, but with enough degrees of separation to know that the man sharing his bed has nothing to do with it. So he manages a gentle smile at Asta in return, shifting enough to let him take the painkillers and settle back in bed.

"Mm, it does, doesn't it?" Danta sighs, shifting to nestle back in under one of the other man's arms, pressing against his good side and dragging one of the blankets back over them. "That sounds like a good idea." Leaning into the hand that caresses his cheek, he turns his head to kiss the inside of Asta's wrist, nodding to him.

"You'll be the first to know." he promises. "I think yesterday was just... a lot more than I remembered. I didn't mean to make you feel so terrible. It was like I didn't have a choice, how I reacted." And I didn't like it, his frown seems to suggest.

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

It’s all sweet and warm and serene after such a turbulent day, and the butcher clings to it as they make their plans, content to relax and not worry about anything else for as long as they can feasibly get away with. It doesn’t last, though, even as he relishes in the press of lips to the inside of his wrist, curling enough to press back into his lover gently.

He’s relaxed as can be until his lover’s words reach him, a sudden tension and the awkward, floaty feeling of his stomach dropping. “It is not your fault, darling.” He says immediately, worried for a few long moments that Danta was so concerned about Asta’s own discomfort that nothing else mattered.

In reality, Asta’s feelings were the last thing on his mind, especially when he has the Maverick curled up like this. “I was just…” He trails off, looking away briefly to the way the golden light has turned a dark brown against the black of the curtains that block the sunlight. “Worried that we may not be able to get here again.” But here they were, curled up with one another, with the monster buried deep and away with no place in their den.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

"Mm, well. If we treat who we were then and who we are now as separately as we can, it wasn't entirely your fault either," Danta points out, in a better position now to be able to see how Asta has taken all of this onto his shoulders, and not entirely fairly. It's true that he'd been responsible, back in The Climb, for a lot of Danta's torment, and in the very shape that had sent the Maverick fleeing from the office the day before. But it's not something he'd ever dream of doing now, and Danta knows it.

Sighing heavily and nosing further into the side of the butcher's neck as he confesses to his worries, Danta nods his understanding. "I'd be lying if I didn't think the same, at first," he says, his voice pitched low. "But as soon as we got into bed last night... all of that vanished. We'll get through this. It might be a bumpy road, but it'll happen - I'm sure of it."

Drawing back to peer up at Asta again, the Maverick pauses for just a moment, as if to memorise every part of him in the soft morning light, before he leans in to kiss his cheek.

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

“That is fair.” The butcher says softly, trying to not let it get to him as much as he has been. But it’s a difficult line to ride when he’d spent the whole night absorbing it as one and the same, even if he was different now. Still a monster, yes, but never Danta’s nightmare again. And perhaps that’s the difference that the butcher needs to cement into his mind, that he knows himself and what he’s capable of, and the idea of doing anything of the sort to the Maverick was not even a possibility.

But its the warmth with Danta’s nose pressing into his neck that relaxes him from the thought, even when Danta starts with a thought pattern similarly - they’re different men, now. The Maverick was his Theocrat. He ruled this region. He was no longer caged and kept as a weapon. And Asta? Asta wasn’t the weapon to keep him in check anymore.

Now Danta held the leash.

His hands rise to wind around Danta’s middle, hands warm as they slide against his back and up toward his shoulders, blinking up with his amber gaze to see him peering back down at him. “You are everything to me, Danta.” He says quietly, eyes closing as the press to his cheek soothes him. “We will get through this.” He repeats, a new mantra to replace the one from the nightmare of the night before.

His head tilts, seeking out a soft and gentle kiss to his lips, snaring him only in the press of his ultimate affection.

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

Everything isn't something the Maverick expects to hear - not from Asta and not in general, truthfully. He's barely been something until very recently, let alone someone's everything, and the smile that teases its way across his lips is one of quiet disbelief and pleasure. "Yeah, well," he agrees, before he can stop himself, "you're everything to me too." Shifting back again to look at Asta properly, whatever he might have to say next is silenced by the soft press of the butcher's lips, Danta curling gentle arms around him further.

"I love you," he murmurs in the fraction of space between them when he draws back, careful fingers stroking a featherlight caress through the back of Asta's hair. "And I think I'm ready to make that tea, now, if you want to check your bandages." Not that he makes any attempt to peel himself away from the other man - that alas, will have to be Asta's call.

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //

so give me your prayers up on your feet
and i'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats

Hearing it repeated, back to him like his own little mantra, the butcher nuzzles in a touch more before Danta’s leaning back to look at him more fully. His hands lift, toying with the ends of wild strands of blond, before he exhales a quiet hum into the kiss, feeling his lover’s arms curl around him tighter.

“I love you too.” He murmurs quietly but with all the honesty that the butcher has in his bones. He leans into the touch to his hair, growing quieter as he peers up at his lover, dark eyes softer than they had been when they’d woken, as if the Maverick’s words had softened the hard shell he’d been building around his emotions.

He leans up into the space, uncaring of the pain it sparks in his chest. He presses his forehead against Danta’s briefly, before pulling away to untangle them to get out of bed. “It shan’t take long.” He hums softly, flashing a soft smile over his shoulder toward the other Ancient, before he’s able to get out of the bed to tend to his wounds and bandage and tea kettle put onto the fire.

- FIN

Astaroth

so give me your sins, give me your lies
but whisper your love, and i'll whisper mine