Daniel looks back, meeting the searing gaze, letting Armand see everything he wants. Staring back into him at the same time. Closed to each other, but connected. Everything else has well and truly fallen away. Vampires, hostilities, wounded friends, the whole fucking world. Like it did every so often before the bond was there at all.

Does he like this?

He's not an incoherent mess. Despite the allegations he wasn't a closest twink shaking and gagging for it. Just a regular closeted weirdo. It was good sometimes and bad other times. He'd hoped it would happen with Louis, he wanted it even if it would have been bad. Be careful what you wish for, and all that. Since it went real fucking bad.

"Yeah." The real answer. Holding himself so still, hyper-aware of the intrusion into his body and the potential for harm. It makes him nervous, which makes it hotter. Long past the point of pretending fear isn't tangled up with sex, for him. It's the intensity, he thinks. Always looking for the inescapable, inevitable feeling. Never able to find it honestly, so looking for it through risk, instead. "You've got pretty good aim with those." A slight tremor in his voice; Daniel's eyes fall closed for a moment, face scrunched up. The deep ache slowly spiraling out from that point of connection, catching him suddenly in its current.