[SE] love you 'til I rust

// you knew who I was //

All but pinned against one of the walls by Asta's shadow, with the steaming tea between his hands and the scent of blood twisting enticingly through the air, Danta swears he can pinpoint the moment where the butcher loses his fight with himself. The tension in his body draws him up to his full height, smile perfect and dangerous and begging to be tasted, and even as the Maverick watches, the flush of arousal darkens and blooms in his cheeks and down the length of his body.

"An accident," he assures him through scarlet stained lips, surrendering his cup and obediently lifting his chin for the inspection. Those final few seconds pass like the plucking of a string in time to the beat of their hearts, and Asta surges forward only a fraction of a second before Danta rises to meet him.

They clash more than they kiss at first, Danta unable to get as much of the butcher beneath his hands as he'd really like. So he settles for tangling a hand hard in the back of his hair and starbursting his fingers against his scarred chest, his moan stifled in the press of lips and tongue and the spike of fresh blood in the air.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

”An accident”, of course it was. There’s the briefest tug to the sharp smile that seems to say yeah, okay, babe, as he pins him there against the wall to take the mug and give him a full inspection. “I see.” Comes the rougher drawl, the few seconds before he’s colliding with the Maverick.

And perhaps it’s because the tension and the lead up that makes it feel more like a fight than an actual sweet and indulgent kiss, but the butcher chases the taste of iron on his tongue. The hand cupping his jaw sweeps back to thread into the blonde strands and cup the back of his head, the other sweeping in to wrap around his hip.

The hand in his hair is tight and sparks a growl of a sound, the hot press of Danta’s hand against the spider web of scar tissue on his chest is just an added indulgence, enough that when he’s forced to pull back for air he doesn’t go far. “An accident on purpose, I would say.” He murmurs against his reddened lips, the hand at his hip dropping to his leg, hoisting it up against his side. “I think you wanted this result.” He leads in a knowing tone, nipping at Danta’s lower lip and chasing it with the heat of his tongue to swipe up more of the metallic tang.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

Fire flares beneath Danta's fingers, injecting further warmth between them, and as his leg hooks easily around Asta's hips, his tail flicks to coil around his leg as well. "Are you calling me a liar?" he pants, the words little more than a whisper that leaves the tang of blood in the air, framed by a wicked smile. "I think you wanted this just as much." It's a playful accusation, a challenge soon silenced by the butcher's mouth on his own once again.

This time, at least, Danta feels more able to respond in a way that can be considered kissing rather than trying to take a bite out of his lover, and even as his lungs scream for air he can't resist the taste of Asta on his lips. Surging forward even as he's forced to draw back again, all but draped against the other man, he finds himself suddenly dizzy with the feel of him, huffing out a breathless laugh and untwisting his fingers from dark hair to let them drag gently down the back of his neck.

"Granted," he says, "I'd have still been on my knees if I'd have gotten my way originally."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

The rush of heat and fire caress his head and chest, sparking to life between them in a blazing event. He feels the pressure of Danta’s tail wind around his leg for additional stability and the butcher’s own drags up the outside of his other leg, his hips offering a slow roll that only pins them further together, a much anticipated amount of friction to the already heady mix.

“I will neither admit nor deny.” He purrs against his lover’s lips just before they sink into another kiss, withdrawing when his lungs burn and his head spins only to find Danta still chasing after him. Eyes dark as sin takes him in, hearing the comment that sparks a glimmer of mischief to drag across his face. It’s interrupted by the flutter of his lids to feel the touch against the back of his neck, sparking goosebumps along his scarred shoulders.

Blunt fingernails drag along the hoisted up leg before he steps back, untangling them as much as he can before his shadow starts to push him down, applying pressure to guide him. “Draw your glamour up for me, darling.” He can grant him a fraction of his wish for all the stubbornness the two of them had leading up to this moment. Besides, it wasn’t like Asta would go without.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

"Political as ever," Danta whispers through a smile. He's far from done with the other man, craving him like a drug in the minutes they've spent teasing each other, and his hips grind against the butcher's at the merest hint of friction between them, a soft groan spilling from his lips. But it seems Asta is keen for them to part, the Maverick just managing to steal one last taste of him before the shadow is pressing him towards the ground.

And oh, he goes easy, the robe loose and open by now and only held up where it's caught on Danta's forearms, spilling around him as he settles on his knees to gaze up at the other man. "With pleasure," he purrs, rolling his shoulders a little and drawing up the glamour around himself. His glinting horns fade to nothing, his tail disappearing, and when he grins back up at Asta it's entirely without fangs. "How's that for you?"

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

A soft snort leaves him, the knowing glint in his eyes as he scans Danta’s handsome face — the way the light plays against the golden strands of his hair, warming the sultry blue of his gaze. “Ironic isn’t it?” His accent grows thicker, lessening the prim and proper tones as he sighs contently. He wasn’t really one for politics, and the only true political person in this room was the very one he has kneeling once they part.

He watches the robe slip further as Danta descends and only once he’s made it fully down onto his knees does Asta’s shadow apply further pressure to his legs as his hand that’s trailed up his body finally reaches the mark in his crown of hair, blissfully free of the sharp spines of diamond. “Mm, almost. Just one thing..” Precisely the reason he should be apologizing in the future.

A lick of scorch magic comes to life in his blonde stands, curling down across his neck like a collar and sinking lower and lower until the robe catches flame, ash spitting out little weightless puffs until Danta’s fully unclothed, before he has the fire rise to press warmly against his chest. It’s a sight to behold and certainly affects the butcher almost as much as the blood does, the mixture of it all melding to make it so his fingertips tighten in his lover’s hair, a guidance toward the waiting length of him as he purrs a husky “Much better, don’t you think?”

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

Luckily for Asta, Danta isn't feeling very political either right now - not beyond using every trick he knows to tease and wind the other man up. But now that he's settled on his knees and gazing up the length of the butcher's body, suddenly pleasure and obedience seem more enticing than ever. As such, with the shadow still applying pressure to the top of his thighs and the scorch trickling down his neck, Danta can't hide the soft gasp that escapes him to feel the silk start to disintegrate.

Left wearing nothing but streaks of ash and his scars, the Maverick's lips part as if to chastise or compliment the other man, only for sudden insistent fingers to tighten in his hair. Cocking a smile up at Asta, he barely needs to be told once to get to work. There's no teasing pre-amble beyond the tight hand that grips his cock, applying a few hard strokes before his mouth takes over, tongue curling around him before he's taking as much of him as he can.

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, not that Danta cares in the slightest, an indulgent moan purring up in his throat as his free hand slides up to Asta's hips, as if to guide or hold him back as needed.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

It’s a beautiful obedience as far as Asta’s concerned. Watching with barely hidden delight as Danta settles into place, not fighting the easy instruction the butcher has provided. Between the ash, blood, and fire they very well might need another shower after this, but gods was it better than mud.

The robe is an ashen mess at Danta’s knees and thighs, and the guiding tension in his hair from the butcher’s hand softens as he does what he wants him to. The first touch, the first few strokes have him shivering as he watches with that same sharp grin, breath hitching until he finally takes him fully.

A groan escapes him unbidden, cock aching and twitching with anticipation as he feels the Maverick’s mouth work him over. The hands at his hips will feel tension, but only for the effort of restraint even as his chest rises and falls faster with the attention. “You, darling, are perfect— so good for me, mm?” He purrs the husky, smoky moan out, distractedly helping him find a rhythm between the hand in his hair and the way he’s held back and tugged forward at Danta’s whim.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

It's at times like this when the Attuned bond would really come in handy. Unfortunately for Asta, as it stands he'll just have to rely on the tantalising hum of Danta's lips around him - what a shame, no? Inhaling a slow breath through his nose and relaxing further onto his knees, whatever tension has sparked in the butcher will be nowhere to be found in the man kneeling before him. Softly obedient and eager to please, he all but gags himself on Asta's cock, squeezing the base of him and guiding him deeper into his mouth with every bob of his head.

The problem, of course, might be in getting him to stop his wicked attentions. If anything, Danta wants nothing more than to stay right where he is, to wind Asta up until there's nothing left of his willpower and nowhere else for him to go. Of course, he might be persuaded - or forced - otherwise, but as molten blue eyes flick up to catch sight of the butcher, there's something all too satisfied in them.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

It would be very handy to have the attuned bond — hearing all those dark and devious thoughts purring into his mind with all the cocky grace that he could imagine Danta’s voice would be like. Without it, the butcher is forced to imagine it as he watches the show before him, putting on one of his own for the Theocrat on his knees.

More hums and bitten back gasps escape him, the muscles of his legs and stomach tensing with each masterful movement of his tongue and mouth. The more the Maverick ramps him up the more Asta realizes his mistake again and again — that his challenge was often met by Danta tenfold. Except, while Asta’s was in the form of pushing and prodding for obedience, Danta’s was often in winding him up until he lost control.

It’s happening now, as it turns out, with each tick of the seconds and lewd sounds that leave the both of them, dragging him closer and closer to that edge before he’s ready for it — left panting as he has to loosen the hand in Danta’s hair, to his cheek. “Is this, mm, a race, darling?” He asks between breaths, having to force himself to try to pull away before Danta sends him over the edge.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

Danta's own arousal is easy to ignore as he draws every gasp and bitten back moan from Asta's throat, and the hand not around the base of his lover's cock sweeps towards the back of his thighs, threatening to anchor him there whether he likes it or not. The butcher acts before it gets quite that far, though, the brush of warm fingers against the Maverick's cheek distracting enough to let the other man escape with only a lingering flick of his tongue.

"Isn't it always?" he purrs, voice low and softly puzzled as he leans into the touch to his cheek, turning his head to brush a gentle kiss to the inside of Asta's wrist. "But if there's another way I can please you, I'm all yours to play with." Not bothering to hide the sly smirk that curls across his lips, he nevertheless remains on his knees for now, peering up the length of Asta's body to let his eyes flick between the butcher's dark gaze and his lips.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

He’s toying with him, in yet another lesson on edging. Such that the breathy laugh that slips from him aimed at his lover is one full of praise and attention even as he loosens every bit of magic held onto him, keeping him there. His body is splotched between the bruises and red flushes that coat his olive skin, lips curved into a knowing grin as the Maverick plants the kiss to his wrist. “No, not always.” He purrs, tail whipping behind him as mischief flares again now that he has a moment to breathe and pull him back from that edge Danta had been speeding him toward.

“Where is the fun if we rush it?” Guiding Danta up to his feet, he turns them so that the Maverick’s back is pressed against his chest while the butcher’s back presses against the wall. It gives him ample time to press a series of kisses to his neck and jaw, hovering his head over his lover’s shoulder to let his hands trail across his chest and sides, his tail curling around one of his legs. Eventually, the touch is guided to Danta’s cock, wrapping around it with ease in slow and steady strokes at first before the pace he picks quickens — his free hand bracing against his chest to keep him where he is as he drags his mouth along Danta’s skin.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //

// you knew who I was //

"Ah, my mistake. I'll keep that in mind for next time," Danta purrs, managing to sneak another kiss against Asta's fingertips before he's ushering him to rise to his feet, something the Maverick does without complaint. Having been hoping for a taste of the butcher's lips, it's only the reminder that there's no fun in being impatient (speak for yourself) that has him turning so willingly into his lover's touch.

His breath hitches at the searing heat against his back and the way Asta's arousal is suddenly caged between them, and as they sink back against the wall he can feel the butcher's touch as lines of fire painting across his body, dragging a quiet moan from his throat. Tilting his head readily into the touch, his hands tries to follow Asta's without much success; one covers the other man's against his chest, the other clutching at his forearm as he uses a combination of his mouth and his fingers to return the favour.

"Fuck," he whispers, already breathless and flushed with the way he's so easily manhandled, never mind the quick, tight pace against his cock. Trapped and unable to move, he nevertheless rocks his hips automatically into the touch, grinding back against Asta at the same time and biting back a groan of anticipation for all the pleasure they're yet to give one another.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //

Astaroth

// but if you think I'm misery,

“Good, I would hate to teach you this lesson a second time.” It’s a blatant lie. He’d do this again and again if it meant that they got to feel like this again and again. Instead, he guides the Maverick back against him, caging him in all of the ways the butcher knows how. Feeling Danta’s hands wrap around his own hand and forearm, he can’t hide the feeling of a smirk that quirks up with each kiss left against his skin.

He noses his way up the column of his neck, nipping at his jeweled ear before a deep and sultry whisper leaves him as his hand grows a bit slower for his point to get across. “Mm, it’s my turn to drive you wild, darling.” He purrs, shifting slightly to make it easier for Danta to grind against him without throwing himself over the edge as he still comes down a little. The stroking pace quickens, his lips tracing down his neck to his shoulder again as if determining the best spot to bite.

A few seconds later he bites enough to leave a mark, nothing like how he usually does when his tether snaps, but enough to leave a little ring of red and a spark of pain into the mix.

then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //