[SE] salt the night with silence

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Danta is ready for Deepfrost this time.

More accurately, Danta is ready for the fact that Asta is likely going to be impossible to wake for much of Deepfrost, but particularly for these first few days.

So he carefully peels himself out of bed while the butcher is still resting, padding about the room to do his best to keep the cold at bay and away from them. It's snowing heavily outside, but he keeps the heavy curtains drawn against it, hiding the pale glare from sensitive eyes. The fire in their hearth has been set to crackling merrily, churning out the sort of heat that would make it hard to breathe for anyone not an Ancient, and it's joined by a number of sconces around the room.

Once he's satisfied with the temperature, Danta orders breakfast for them (the kind that they can pick at and fall asleep and come back to), and he manages to brew tea and catch the kettle before its shrill whistle can risk waking up his fiance.

Only when everything has arrived and the scent of cinnamon, cloves and honey start to knit through the air does he approach their den, carefully drawing back the drapes to slip inside. "Hey," he whispers, slipping beneath the heavy tangle of fur and blankets to try and find the other man.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

Asta, too, is so ready for Deepfrost when it arrives. He can feel it the night before as it tugs at him, fingers sticking into each and every movement and keeping it from being as fluid and intense as he’d like it to be. And the nights worth of sleep when it comes is deep. So deep, in fact, that Danta manages to get away with everything in the morning without a single bit of movement from the butcher apart from his breathing.

He’s curled toward the space that Danta had departed, one arm and leg over the covers, face half smooshed into the pillow and curved down enough to keep the horns from scraping against the headboard (though the evidence of it in the past still linger), his tail is draped across the floor opposite of the entrance of the den, and his dark hair – slightly tangled from the night before – fans out behind him and tucked in against his neck.

Even the scent of food and tea aren’t enough to wake him, but it is enough to have him sleepily snagging one of the furs and pulling it completely over him like he can blot out whatever’s happening in his subconscious. It’s how Danta finds him when he comes in and pulls the drapes back, the soft little hey and the search party beneath the blankets to scout him out. He doesn’t rouse immediately, instead, it’s just enough to have him stretching out and flattening under the blanket, his tail drawing up from where the spaded tip had rested against the floor. It’s colder than the rest of him is as it sweeps across under the blankets to snag Danta – and only when there’s contact made does Asta sleepily move to corral the Maverick in his embrace like he’s a stuffed animal the butcher finally found to cuddle up with. And all he can really offer is the barely there – still not clearly awake – “Mm..?”

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Ah, found you." Danta's voice is pitched low as the butcher snatches him into his embrace, leaving him feeling like a very unbothered prey animal. Shifting just enough to get rid of his horns so he doesn't scratch Asta's face and neck when he burrows closer, the Maverick's arms bully their way around his lover and draw the covers over them a little more tightly, further blocking out the light and, more importantly, any sliver of cold that might try to sneak through.

"I made tea and got breakfast," he mumbles against Asta's throat, smoothing gentle fingers through the tangle of his hair to sweep it back from his neck, his free hand strumming a gentle rhythm down the length of his spine. "For whenever," he adds, because he's not fool enough to truly believe the other man has woken up - or even that he can properly hear him.

So instead of wasting his breath further, Danta settles in Asta's arms and leaves a line of warm kisses along his jaw, letting him drift back off to sleep should he need it.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

“…I was lost, mi amor?” Asta asks in his sleepy tone, only able to really pick up on the comments made while his subconscious runs the show. Still perfectly halfway there, he nestles into the Maverick as Danta’s arms slip around him and draw the covers around tighter. His eyes are still closed, listening and only shifting slightly to feel the fingers in his hair, malleable in a way he often isn’t.

It’s almost like he’s melted against Danta. “¿Té y no vino?” It feels like it should be later than it is, in this imaginary space his dream space had made for him. He doesn’t even realize he isn’t speaking the common tongue, but his accent is thick as it slips past his lips, a long slow breath escaping him comfortably to feel the warm line of kisses against his jaw.

He does start to finally wake up after that, though. The evidence in having a little more claim over his body with his arms that tighten and his head that adjusts slightly, the flutter of his long dark lashes before he manages to open them under the dark covers and sees somewhat next to nothing in the dim light. “Breakfast?” He asks, trying to recall whatever Danta had said.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Mm, you were to me," Danta mumbles in return, smiling against the scruff of Asta's jaw. "Not to worry, though - no one is lost now." Punctuating his remark with another kiss, he settles once more and returns to his gentle affections, at least until the butcher's melodic gibberish hits the air. "Sure, whatever you want," he murmurs through a quiet laugh, only for Asta's arms to tighten around him enough for the Maverick to realise he might finally be surfacing towards real consciousness.

"If you want it," he says of breakfast with a soft nod, reaching up to push the covers back just enough that the warm firelight can filter between the drapes of their den. "Or we can stay here longer." Reaching up, he carefully sweeps Asta's hair back behind his antlers where it won't bother him, leaning in to gently touch his forehead the butcher's.

"Or," he says, "I can go and bring the breakfast in here for us."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

The affections are felt and only keep him under so much more than he’d likely otherwise be if the situation were pertinent. But right now, the slow gentle wakening that Danta provides is as sweet and comfortable as it is to wake up feeling fully refreshed to the morning light for a good day – rejuvenating in all the ways his body hadn’t managed the entirety of Leafchange. The sound that leaves him is gentle and smooth, a noncomittance that’s more of a breath than it is any actual words, gibberish until he manages to open his eyes into the dark of the blanket.

The question comes with the blanket being removed and Asta only tucks himself closer to his fiancé, squinting against the dull firelight in the dark of their den. His body feels like it’s been hit by a thousand rocks with the heaviness in which it feels to move, like his mind has woken up but his limbs are slow to respond. It has him readjusting his head until it can rest on Danta’s shoulder, tilting into the hand that sweeps his hair back and the forehead to forehead press that has him face to face with those electric, stunning blues.

“I do not think I am.. fully awake yet.” Comes the confused admission, sluggishly dragging his arm up to wrap a little tighter around Danta in the squeeze of a hug before he closes his eyes again and huffs out a little sound. “Would you mind bringing it in here?” He asks, opening his eyes again to take in Danta’s handsome face, managing a shade of a smile on his face as if asking if Danta would take pity on him. He even manages to move his arm in a slow sweep down Danta’s side if only to not keep him caged in against the warmth of heat his body exudes.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Mm, I was getting that impression as well," Danta says, keeping his voice pitched low, like Asta's sleepiness might be a secret they can both keep from the rest of the world. He lets the other man shift and adjust him like a ragdoll, one arm slipping around his shoulders and his free hand finishing its adjustment of the butcher's messy hair, before he's gazing down into the dark honey of his eyes.

"Of course I don't mind," he purrs, fingers brushing affectionately along the scruff of his jaw. "And if you fall asleep in the half a minute I'm gone, that's fine too." He stays longer than intended, even with the way Asta opens his arm to release him; for all the preparations he's made against the heavy snow outside, there's no warmth like being cocooned in their den with his fiance.

Eventually, though, Danta does peel himself away and back into the lesser heat of the room, collecting their breakfast and the tea onto a tray before returning. "There are pastries, toast, jams, some bacon and sausage, and I'm pretty sure I can beg for eggs if we want any," he says with a grin, setting everything down within reach but far enough away not to be knocked by flailing limbs.

"Can I tempt you with anything in particular?"

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

It absolutely is a secret between just the two of them, he decides as Danta’s low voice reaches his ears and scratches something nice within him. It helps the smoothness with how they shift, as the dark messy strands of hair are tamed and without his face half pressed into the pillows, his beard finally has a chance to not be so smooshed.

Adoration slips into the dark honey of his eyes as he peers up at his fiance, never minding the way he lingers despite the agreement they’d made for him to bring it in here. And despite the permission granted to fall back asleep if he needs to, well, Astaroth has always been stubborn. He intends to do his damndest to stay awake.

He has just a moment of time to brush some of Danta’s golden hair back and tuck it behind his ear, leaning affectionately into the touch at his jaw. And when the Maverick finally decides to pull away to retrieve their food, the butcher manages to sit himself up a little more in the time he’s gone.

His head is propped up on a fist and he’s halfway to falling asleep again when the other Ancient returns, prompting him enough of a moment to shake his head and readjust his position a bit like it has any chance of fighting off the exhaustion. “Toast and jam, please, darling.” He hums, stifling a yawn before he’s reaching out to snag the cup of tea, craving the warmth even if the blankets were half draped across his legs, revealing the edge of one bare foot with the pale scarring that rides the edges and bottom of his feet. “How did you sleep? I imagine better without my seasonally insatiable appetite?” His lips twitch into a playful and exhausted smirk even as he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Collecting his own tea before returning to the bed, Danta doesn't try to hide the way his gaze roves over the other man as he lounges in the plush comfort of their den, looking like some dark Adonis in the warm firelight that spills through the parted drapes. "You got it," he purrs, taking a long sip of hot tea and setting it to the side, finally tearing his gaze away from Asta to arrange breakfast for him.

"I slept like the dead," he says agreeably, flashing a crooked smile over his shoulder as he gathers some toast and jam on a plate for the butcher. "Though I confess I had gotten used to you getting handsy with me in my sleep to wake me up. I kind of missed it." His laughter is playful and easy as he settles back to hand the plate to the other man, having collected a pastry and some bacon for himself as he sits up among the pillows with him.

"Granted, you were handsy in a different way. I had to peel myself out of your grip to go and fetch us breakfast," he adds, winking to Asta. "Lucky for you, I'm quite inclined to be your hot water bottle for the season."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

The firelight plays against his dark hair that he’s restrained himself, spilling down between his shoulder blades as he settles in, cradling the cup as Danta gets the toast ready for him – unsure if he can force himself awake enough to get it ready. But he watches him curiously as the question is answered, setting the cup of tea down to snag the plate. A low chuckle leaves him, poured alongside Danta’s own. “It has been one day, darling.” Affection flickers in his face.

He won’t deny the other way of being handsy, though, craving Danta’s warmth and attention as the only one he’s ever allowed himself to indulge in. And for having gone so long without touch previously, he can’t imagine spending any further time hidden away by himself. “Mm, I am quite lucky, indeed.” He murmurs, finally lifting the toast to his lips to take a sip and relish in the sweetness of it. It does give him time to squint through the way the curtain of the den is draped, to get a better view of the window and the snow that’s fallen outside, leaving it white and bright. His nose wrinkles a touch as he looks back over at Danta, lips twitching into a small smirk. “I see it has already started snowing." He drawls.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"One day too many," Danta says with a huff, before taking a haughty bite of bacon to punctuate his point. He doesn't manage to complain much after that though, not through the satisfied hum that escapes his lips, and he sags into the pillows a little more. "The luckiest," he agrees, raising the bacon in a toast and following Asta's gaze through the gap in the drapes to the world outside. He scrunches his nose at the reminder of the snow, nodding.

"Must have started last night, there's already plenty on the ground," he agrees, absently reaching out with his free hand to brush his thumb across Asta's cheek, as if admiring the way the fire and the quiet, cool light from outside plays across his face. "But I've already got the fire up high, and everyone knows not to expect anything from us today. So you can rest and recover as much as you like."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

The little toast is met with the raise of his literal toast in return, but it doesn’t last long as he glances toward the snow, taking another bite of the toast to whittle it down before he feels the soft brush of his fiance’s thumb against his bearded cheek. He leans into it like a dog overeager for the touch, but his softer honey gaze focuses a little more on the Maverick as he explains all the perfect ways they once again have started a new season. “You are perfect.” The compliment purrs from his lips, finishing the toast and taking a sip of the tea and setting it down out of the way to not be knocked into.

It allows him to shift slightly and curl up against Danta, his cheek resting against his fiance’s shoulder – his glamour falling into place to ensure his antlers don’t cause any surprise injuries. It makes him look impossibly softer, without the added sharpened point of his fangs, though his teeth remain sharp, and it makes his hair fall in a slightly messier extent from where they’d had it tucked in. “I do not feel as bad as I did this time last year, though I imagine it is because I knew what to expect this time.” He muses, reaching over the blonde’s lap to snag a piece of bacon he can nibble on, leaching up the warmth.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"Who am I to ever tell you that you're wrong?" Danta says with a grin as Asta calls him perfect, the Maverick letting his arm slip around the other man as he nestles in closer, waiting until his glamour is up properly before leaning in to kiss the soft, messy darkness of his hair. "Mm, I think we got ahead of it both seasons this year," he agrees, shifting his plate a bit so it's easier for Asta to share his bacon. (Something only the butcher will ever be able to do).

"Hopefully things keep getting easier," he continues, voice mumbled where he's still nosing against the crown of Asta's head. "I can't imagine it's fun for a control freak like you to spend half the year at the whims of your hormones." His grin is playful but the sentiment is still sincere, and he settles back against the headboard. "I was chatting with Flora about just microdosing you with dreamdust throughout Leafchange to keep it at bay."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash

// when it feels like all the world is wearing a frown //

“Mm, the only person who could and I might consider it. Might.” He teases back as he gets settled, relishing in the kisses pressed to his hair as he tears into the bacon comfortably, already feeling the fingers of sleep tug at him that he forces away by having a task. Even if that task was nibbling at the bacon. With a quiet admission of mhm for his agreement as he chews the bacon, the butcher is nothing but in agreement that they’d done their best to try and keep it as easy as possible this year.

As for it getting easier, he can only hope that it does. And as his fiancé continues, he can feel the grin pressed into the crown of his head and it spark a soft laugh. “Oh, it is dreadful, darling.” He whines, overly dramatic and heavy with a sigh. “Though it does make me feel more Ancient than I do the rest of the year.” He’d only needed to do it once to feel that chaotic energy burn within him, at odds with how he usually embodied their goddess.

Dreamdust is an idea, though, and one that has the butcher’s head tilting slightly to squint up at Danta, a smile tugged on his face so sharp that the crows feet deepen with the shadow from the firelight. “Do you think that would work?” He raises a dark brow, not entirely opposed to the idea, but unsure whether or not the drugs would have any bearing on just how much the energy of the fierw might override him.

Astaroth

// put a smile on and spread it around //