Completely. Has anyone ever wanted him like that? Has there ever been anyone who he would believe wanted him like that? Armand has seen everything. The very worst, most pathetic, most offensive parts of him. And he's still here, like he feels that strange, comfortable isolation too.

(He knows it's the bond. He doesn't care that it's the bond. He cares about the bond. Crucial distinctions.)

"It's yours."

All of it, whatever he wants. Daniel, apparently, which despite all his brashness still makes some small part of him inside tremble with anxiety and anticipation. He is open, accepting, fucking eager for more contact, frankly, but the look in his eyes as Armand closes the small gap to kiss him again has traces of Me? You're picking me?

Him, to slide up against. Him to turn. Him to torture for a week. Armand, his maker, his everything else anymore. Daniel tips his head into the kiss and lets him move where he wants, arms around him welcoming and supportive— only slightly awkward with where to put things (things like hands). It's been decades since he's messed around with another man in earnest. Buried behind him as too complicated to bother with. He could, there's been opportunity, he just hasn't.