The sharp tease of teeth makes him want more, makes his cock jump, and at any other time he might be embarrassed at how obvious and predictable it is, but right now it just feels warm and good and like another layer of thrilling sensation. If Armand wants to bite him, he can have all of him, if he doesn't, even just the scrape, the hint of his own blood, is achingly enjoyable just as it is, and—

Show me, so much better than Rest. Daniel presses a kiss to Armand's mouth, all messy heat, and curls strong fingers around both of their erections, delves deeper with his other hand, following the way his maker guides him. He can do this, follow the artful lines of flesh, press into the tight clutch of him, careful with diamond-sharp claws but free from anxiety about them. He wants to feel Armand go tight then tip over the edge all around him, in his hands, against him, every shiver of his body and all the ways it's extended in the air, in the threads, in their woven, painted grotto of vines and stars.

Maybe he'll follow him over. It's a good night to be enamored, and lost in shimmering lust and affection.