It catches him off guard, having not intended to press for this kind of assurance. Unless some part of him had, had wanted to hear it, but it doesn't stop him from going still. His own growing warmth, quicker bloodflow, speaking his own arousal into being and helped along by hearing it echoed in Daniel's body. And now this, a more private reaction unless Daniel were to drink the truth from his blood, or,

catch it, there, in Armand's expression. Seeing through the dark, the subtle widening of his eyes, some near-nervous set to his jaw. A drawn breath in, slowly let out.

"Yes," he says, on a delay. "As you are for me."

No other fledglings, no other immortal lovers. He had turned Daniel because he wanted Daniel to live forever, because he wanted a companion, and here it is. Almost embarrassing, how simple it has all turned out to be.