Touch to the scars on his neck is a dice roll between shivery and nothing; he still experiences sensation there, but like all scar tissue, it comes and goes. Tonight, now, be it the drugs or the mood or Armand or all of it, feeling is cranked up. Like the wound is connected to his nervous system in a unique way. Something once touched by the supernatural, made a permanent part of him.

Swaddled in vines and stars. Daniel kisses him, and kisses him, and one of his roaming hands moves down lower on its path, and incorporates squeezing Armand's rear into the equation. He feels comfortable, he trusts that this kind of touch is alright for him to do, and he hopes that's still the case. He likes fooling around with Armand. It's fun, and profound. Hints of something kinkier lurking, while being some of the most emotionally significant encounters he's ever had.

The most? Maybe. Probably.

The thread that binds them seems to wind closer. Like it, too, is wrapping around them with everything else. They can't read each other, but they can feel each other. One heartbeat.