Sweat prickles over his skin as Armand teethes at him. Daniel grapples with him a little, light and playful, as he's crowded and re-arranged. He hasn't felt this light in so long, hasn't felt desired like this in so long. He didn't think it was still possible.

"Jesus, all that—"

Really, bringing up the psychosexual headgames going on in that penthouse? Daniel lets himself be manhandled, and thumbs over the sides of Armand's throat to feel his pulse, his breath, draws a hand down the center of his sternum.

"I had pages of notes about you as soon as I walked in the door." A wry confession. "I was embarrassed to think about you, some twenty-something, mysterious, beautiful but obviously bonkers butler. Being bothered all day by a creepy old man."

And yet.