Fooling around is exactly what party drugs are for. Daniel is pretty fucking happy with how this is turning out, so far— both for selfish reasons, though there's nothing selfish about enjoying oneself now and again, surely, and because he feels good knowing that he's given Armand a positive experience. The tiniest sliver of time, just some stupid chemicals to mess about with.

You know. Night swimming. Funny movies. Flowers.

Life sucks, but sometimes: worth it.

"Is that..?"

He thinks he's imagining it at first. Or rather, he thinks it's a part of a hallucination that's perfectly merged with the reality of their current circumstances. But something really is unstitching his clothes, and only one person present is capable. Daniel lifts one hand to observe this process, the way his sleeve detaches itself at the shoulder, thread spooling away, fabric lifting.

"Yeah. Told you so."

Cool.