Why did Armand make him? Will he ever have a real answer? Or does it just not matter, because they're here and going forward?

Daniel sinks against him, hungry for it, but he tips his head back to let Armand have whatever he likes from him. It makes him shiver, and he slides hands over Armand's shoulders, letting the bottle drop down beside him. Pointy nails are a bit of a nervous-curious note around the prospect of anal sex, but also, intriguing on a kink level. He expects it'll be less racy than it seems, though. It's not like he's ever accidentally sliced a toe off while absently scratching an itch.

Thinking about existence, thinking about the exact mechanics of getting fucked. Duality of man, etc.

"Every little thing with you feels so fucking good," he says, his voice a breathy clash of appreciation and exasperation. How.