Who knows how long they spend in that first pool of it; Daniel loses his ability to accurately guess the passage of time, and the sun loses its ability to pull him into sleep. This bedroom has become its own universe out of time.

Which is a lot, for a couple of weird guys kissing. They've earned it, he thinks. An indulgence in feeling.

It shocks him that he believes Armand wants him. Quite a bit to unpack about it, most of it laughably mundane in the face of winding their vampiric bond closer and closer, and he'll do it ... later. The instinct to flinch and offer to leave his shirt on creeps up, perhaps tangible for a moment when he pauses a little to feel Armand pull at it, but he makes himself relax.

Completely, Armand said, It's yours, he answered. And he meant it. He'll trust Armand with himself, even though it's objectively stupid to do so. It's the kiss against his ear that did it, maybe. He brings a hand around to touch Armand's chest, stroke over the contours of him through his shirt, feel his heart and his breathing the old-fashioned way. Up, to cradle his face, press a thumb against his mouth just to feel the shape of his lips, and then replace it with his own, silently asking for more, deeper, all of it.