[SE] black shades, white gloves

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

Closing his eyes as Danta leans in and brushes his lips against his scruff, the butcher is absolutely expecting something filthy to come from his lover’s lips. And it’s with a swift turn of surprise that the butcher’s cheeks flare darkly to hear the whisper in his ear, only for Danta to scoff and sit back, the laughter bright as if he too had been caught out by the question.

His cheeks are incredibly warm as he regards the Maverick, fingertips lifting to run through his blonde strands again, trailing along the sharp edges of diamond horns as he considers his words. “I will answer.” He hums, even if he’s still a shade of red he hasn’t been in quite some time. “Cannibals do not get married.” He drawls a little playfully at first, pretending as if that’s the answer itself before he continues, his smile softening. “That being said, I have attended quite a few and.. I have never imagined myself in that place prior to being here with you.” So deeply in love, that is. “I will not lie and say that a party benefiting us in such as way sounds terrible. Nor would I be opposed to mirroring you with your adoration of jewelry, either.” He muses, like the fluster from the question has sparked him being unable to stop.

“Apologies. I am rambling now.” He says with a huff of a laugh. “You were opposed to the idea before so I never entertained it seriously. But yes, I have.” His honey warm gaze flickers across his lover’s face, scanning for any of the body language he knows to tell him he’s struck a little too close to making him shy away.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

Danta has to bite the inside of his cheek - hard - to stop his smile from running away with him, not least because for all the bluster and rambling, it does sound as though Asta is giving his most genuine answer to the question. He forces himself to relax, his hand coming up to rest over the back of the butcher's as it teases through his hair. "Cannibals also don't live in Whitebrim any more," he points out - as far as they're both aware, anyway.

But he listens as Asta continues, Danta able to hear the awkwardness in the overly polite pattern of his speech, and he nearly leans in to silence him with kisses just to put them both out of their misery. But then it comes to the crux of it, and his eyebrows raise in surprise. Yes, I have. "I see," he says softly (he almost says lol why so y'know, you're welcome), brushing his thumb across Asta's cheek.

"Well for what it's worth - and this might sound strange - I don't think I'd want anyone else there if anything like that ever happened." Maybe one or two very close friends, but otherwise that sort of intimacy feels as if it belongs only to them.

"Ah, but that was a freebie truth for you, there," he adds, smirking.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

“That is true.” The butcher admits a touch awkwardly as Danta points out the truth that cannibals didn’t live in Whitebrim anymore. And as far as he’s concerned, the only ones he’s encountered aside from himself had been found here. So really, new traditions could be made if warranted or wanted, but it was still enough to have his mind running in circles.

He sees the way Danta leans in, as if considering to shut him up, but he thankfully pauses to announce the answer even if he still feels as though he’s a heater – the flush leaving little reddish hued patches along his neck and a portion of his shoulders. His head tilts into the thumb that brushes against his cheek and his hands drop to wrap around Danta’s lower back again, scanning his face for the answer when it comes.

The butcher is infinitely internally pleased to see that he isn’t shying away from the topic, and instead offers his own truth. “A party after, then.” The butcher murmurs, finding some strange semblance of hope or optimism blooming in the dark corners of his chest. “So you are not entirely opposed to the idea?” He asks, tilting his head to press a kiss to the palm of his lover’s hand where it sits at his cheek.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Mm, that could work," Danta says of a party afterwards - one where his social mask is firmly back in place, where chaos can reign and he can be as batshit crazy (read: not gooey and vulnerable and hopelessly in love) as he likes. His free hand drifts down to tickle along the side of Asta's neck and against his chest, as if to track the sudden intense blush where it blooms across his skin.

And as the other man offers a soft kiss to his palm and opts not to take the bait for the next round of truth or dare, Danta's brow furrows with quiet curiosity and a dawning realisation. "You really have been thinking about this, haven't you?" he says softly before, after a long moment of consideration, he leans in to press a slow, soft kiss to Asta's mouth.

"I suppose I'm not entirely opposed to it any more, no," he murmurs against his lips.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

It betrays him, the way he can feel the crevices of his heart warm – a promise to avoid his newfound biggest fear of having to be alone again. Something that’s rooted entirely because of Danta, that is, but it helps. It helps enough that the butcher’s face softens, an almost shy glimpse that Danta picks up on immediately with the realization. “I have and have not.” Because I was fairly certain you would be opposed to that and I refuse to be the one to cage you again.

But the rest dies on his tongue with the kiss, soft and gentle and the only way the butcher can return those thoughts through his body language. He presses in, kissing him back self indulgently and sweetly, until they’re parting. “That is good to know, darling.” He hums softly, as though he wasn’t considering it as seriously as he was, letting it cement in his mind further as a possibility as opposed to a line stepped over too far.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Mmhm," Danta drawls, a smile curling across his lips, but honestly the longer the moment draws out, the more he realises how much this seems to mean to the butcher. His smile fades into something warmer and more genuine, and he leans in to thread his arms around Asta properly, as if to give him a chance to get control of his senses without being stared at so openly.

"Well, knowledge is power, so they say," he quips, letting his fingers trickle down the length of the other man's spine, the words almost murmured in a kiss against his temple. "I have given you so many more truths than you gave me," he continues, sounding playfully affronted by it. "That means you owe me a forfeit, and I choose truth again. So now you can tell me this - where's your favourite place to be touched?"

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

It does help when Danta starts to wrap his arms around him properly, without being so openly looked at he stands a chance of trying to get his senses under control and the flush of his skin back to a normal hue and temperature. His arms tighten around his waist, thumbs stroking idle patterns against the hollows of his hips.

As their conversation and quips become a bit less personal and more playful, there’s a smidge of relief in the butcher’s laugh to hear Danta’s playful offense that he’d let the game lapse. Which is entirely fair, it was his idea, after all. Though if asked, he would say it wasn’t his fault Danta’s question had thrown him off track so vastly. “Yes, yes. You win, love.” He says on the edge of a playful sigh, perking up a touch when Danta asks the truth again.

This takes a moment of consideration, however, enough that he nuzzles in to press a kiss to his cheek. “My most favorite place would have to be my hair and horns, though I suspect you knew that already.” With how often he plunged his fingers into the raven black of his hair, the butcher thinks Danta’s figured it out quite easily. “My second favorite would have to be my shoulders where they meet my neck.” He tacks on the second half in a whisper, a secret just for Danta’s ears only.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"I will relish the memory of those words forever," Danta hisses in a playful whisper, grinning another kiss against Asta's dark hair this time. You win, love - he might even get it tattooed on his ass if the mood strikes him. But as the conversation lilts towards more familiar ground - less emotionally devastating if no less personal - he feels himself subconsciously relax into the familiar rhythm of it.

Smiling to hear Asta's response, he gives a playful wrinkle of his nose. "I was starting to get the hint, yes," he purrs, "but it's always nice to know you don't secretly hate it." The second remark, though - that is a new piece of information, and the Maverick obnoxiously smooches a kiss to Asta's cheek before sitting back. "I promise not to abuse this newfound power," he lies - blatantly.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

“As you should.” And if Danta were to get them tattooed on his ass if the mood struck, it would be perhaps one of the funniest but most apt things that would designate their relationship. But those thoughts end shortly with the familiarity and comfort of drifting away from the harder, more emotional truths, in favor for things that are more broad and less gut reactive.

He nuzzles in briefly to the scrunch of Danta’s nose, before the obnoxious smooch to his cheek has his own nose wrinkling, lips twisting into a crookedly sharp smile that reveals a fair amount of fangs while his hands drift up his lover’s spine all the way to his shoulders. “Liar.” The butcher purrs proudly, tail whipping playfully enough that it accidentally smacks Danta’s leg, sparking another rumble of a laugh from the butcher.

“Where is yours, darling?” He asks, like he isn’t trying to ensure they’re on the same playing field.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Guilty as charged," Danta trills, chuckling and arching his back against Asta's fingers as they skitter up between his shoulders. He's laughing further at the unexpected thwack of the butcher's tail, the Maverick swatting playfully in retaliation like a cat batting at a toy before settling to hear his lover speak. He considers not letting the game of truth or dare come to an end quite so soon, but given how intense the last round of questions had been, perhaps this is for the best.

Which simply leaves the answer to Asta's question. "It took me a really long time to trust people enough to turn my back on them," he says with a small, crooked sort of smile, reaching out to guide one of the butcher's hands around to press to his chest. "Even longer for you and I - as I'm sure you can understand." Huffing a laugh, he guides Asta's fingers further up to ghost across the back of his neck, provoking a soft shiver of pleasure.

"But now this is one of my favourite places to be touched." Touched or kissed - even the warm sigh of a breath is enough to make him melt.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

The second Danta starts to swat back at him, the butcher’s laughter continues before it peters out into a soft rumble, letting the moment take them away as the mood grows a touch more somber. Not because of the conversation, but because of the reasoning for it – something the butcher understands intimately.

His hand is conceded easily into Danta’s touch, guided until he can press the wide expanse of his fingers along Danta’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and the warmth there. “I do understand that.” He confirms softly, his tone a touch apologetic – even if he’d sworn to himself he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to him whether he had to or didn’t.

But then his hand is guided again, drawn up against the back of his neck that he takes full advantage of, stroking along the nape of his neck gently, twirling the golden strands there around his fingertips in the process. “That is very good to know, darling.” He hums softly, leaning in to take advantage of another kiss, slow and gentle and sweet.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

"Of course," Danta purrs, his head tipping forward ever so slightly as Asta's fingers gently twist through the locks of hair at the nape of his neck. "Only seems fair that you know how to push my buttons too." Grinning as the other man leans in, Danta is ready for him, arms curling gently around his shoulders as their lips meet in another kiss. It isn't one he's willing to part from too quickly, either, and by the time he does come up for air, it's with a fresh flush of colour to his cheeks and a hopeless smile on his lips.

"So how was that for your after dinner exercise?" He laughs, tail flicking its amusement as he gently encourages Asta back onto the bed properly. Reluctant though he might be to part from the other man, even temporarily, Danta still plans to take advantage of being able to get properly comfortable in the warm darkness of their den.

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone

my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,

What nightmares they’ll be when it comes to indulging each other’s favorite things – not that the butcher would complain. He’s constantly learning more and more about the Maverick and each one sparks an even deeper sense of love and attention. The butcher’s devotion for the Maverick is something he’s never quite done before – unless it was for Dygra, and as he presses into the kiss with all of his love and adoration, it’s with a touch of worship too.

They part after a long and self indulgent kiss, Asta equally as red as Danta is with a gentle panting past his lips, easily encouraged back into the bed to scoot up toward the head of it and to tuck the blankets up and around them, loathe to let Danta get even an inch away from him. “It was great.” He hums, pressing another kiss to his jaw and another tickle of his fingers at the back of his neck, wrapping his other hand around his waist. “Was it enough for you?” He asks, parting to fully scan his face.

Astaroth

i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

I wanna run against the world that's turning

Unable not to laugh as Asta refuses to let him create even a polite amount of distance between them, Danta soon finds himself wrapped back up in his lover with the addition of the blankets and furs, and he relaxes bonelessly against his bare chest. "I'm glad you enjoyed." He grins. "We should play again soon - after that dare, though." Because he hasn't forgotten, and he won't let Asta get away without spending the day as a theocrat brothel owner.

His head ducks automatically to let Asta's fingers trickle across the back of his neck, the attention sparking a shiver down the length of his spine. "Of course it was." He purrs, glancing up at the other man with a smirk. "You know I'll make it very obvious if I want to engage in any other kinds of extracurricular activities." He winks. "And I hope the same goes for you."

Dantalion

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn, I wanna be gone