The taste of blood, and a feedback loop of pleasure, and an indescribable other thing that feels like some more primal and wholly unconscious version of the way two vampires minds can mingle but theirs cannot. Part of the same organic system, blood flowing, spilling, consumed, assimilated. A muffled groan out of Armand.

It's enough. Just this one mouthful, two mouthfuls, and then his fangs withdraw and go blunt and he keeps his mouth against the wounds he's made to catch the oozing run-off, giving the flesh time to close.

Returns to himself. The feeling of a hand at his shoulder, a hand on his hand, and he tangles their fingers together. His own arousal, now aching between his legs, and Daniel's, and he has to decide if he wants to finish him that way, feels himself salivate for it, but finds himself wanting differently. Finds himself not thinking as clearly as usual. Louis, bless, had to do quite a lot of work to ensure Armand was at the level of empty-headed pleasure that he occasionally craved.

Daniel's blood still gathered between his teeth, beneath his lips, small smears at the corners of his mouth. With inhuman grace and speed, Armand returns to pressing the full length of himself down against Daniel, snaring him in a kiss.

Impatiently pushing his own sweatpants down, to gather low and out of the way.