A feeling of weightlessness at the same time as a feeling of being so very grounded. They aren't doing anything but petting each other, and yet there's a sense of deep merging. Sharing this strange, unique experience, the only two creatures who will ever be right here, right now. And they happen to be monsters, who happen to be maker and fledgling, and Daniel thinks he can feel the bond like a tangible thing, like the threads from their clothes and the rug have become something stitched through them. Warm eroticism instead of stinging needlework, like expanding nerves, feeling.

Rocking gentle up into him, hard against hard with wet, sticky proof of enjoyment melting out of them both, pressing against him with intent. Intent, but not urgency; the idea of an explosive end is as seductive as the idea of being here, suspended, forever.

Aimless, indulgent almost-kisses, open mouths finding each other, or cheekbones, or earlobes.

"What colors do you see when you come?" What is this question. Incredible journalism. "You're like... the sky the first time I really saw it, in this life. So dark as to be bright again."