If Louis is telling the truth about all this, about wanting him, fifty years, the way he tastes— there's a dreamlike quality to it, even actual dreams and recovered memories aside. Fairytale shit, except there's blood drinking and monsters and extreme, shared trauma. The way he moves, the feeling of his kiss, it's all... fucking crazy, Louis is unreal, brilliant, weird, shining.

Daniel makes a sound like a laugh, sharp and bright. Wound or not, what a request. (Sometimes bruises feel good. It's the ache.)

"Still want to go on a bad date with me?"

Like, that's what it was, surely. Daniel lifts his head to press a kiss to Louis.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's find ... whatever, who cares what's playing."

It's 2023, there is nothing.