Not unlike fangs in him. The mechanics of penetration are all over this fucking life (this fucking, life). Stitching them together, piercing skin and drawing it tighter. He wonders what their tapestry will look like someday. Also, this feels crazy. Like every time he gets fucked, his first thought it always Why am I doing this, this is a terrible idea, but he forces himself to stay still and relaxed, and experiences a rush of euphoria for being able to. No strain, no cramps, no tremors. And he's staring right at the monster who made it possible in the first place.

Armand sinks in further and Daniel's hand scramble to touch him, shifts then doesn't, tries to figure out where to arrange himself. Remembering, not remembering at all, because his brain is being re-arranged by a vampire's dick. (You're a vampire, too, remember?) (Right, sure.)

One knee up, restless, rubbing the inside of his thigh against Armand's side, hand flexing on his shoulder. A deep breath in, out. He stares up at Armand, and paradoxically feels like he's falling.

"It's been so fucking long I don't actually remember if this is what it feels like," is a weird thing to say, maybe? There's fuzzy logic. Not sure if he's making sense. "Or if it's just you."