"I'm not fucking with you," is so immediate, a little incredulous. Shakes some heavier weight loose from Louis' tone, rattles him loose from the encroaching sense of rejection.

Yes, maybe he had been fucking with Daniel in Dubai. In those first weeks. It had been meant to serve a purpose, and it had failed anyway. Louis lost control of the interview. His whole life came apart. It hadn't mattered that he'd sat Daniel down to watch him drink deep from Armand's throat, in the end. Daniel hadn't been wrong-footed in any meaningful way.

Daniel lays these things out. Louis had said no in San Francisco. He'd laughed in Dubai. And they are here now, after all those things, and Louis finds himself unsure if he should be touching Daniel at all.

Asks, "Do you think I don't want you?"

Semi-aware that the answer must be yes, given the question.