Selling his mouth as a kid was where he started— a complex internal cauldron, for a quick and easy act. He wanted drugs. He wanted attention. He wanted other men, carnally, with an intensity that frightened him. Daniel didn't have to be anything if he was just selling it. Everything was about the payoff, and so his enjoyment was a private thing, something he thought was stealthy and unseen, though in retrospect he knows just how tragically obvious he was.

Now, he doesn't have to try and hide anything. He can just like it. And he does. Likes even more that it's Louis, finally. He gets to taste him and feel him, the softest, most delicate skin, where sweat and scent pools the most profoundly, finding shapes to press into the eager heat of his own mouth.

Daniel's hands don't shake anymore. He can touch him without fear of losing control of his motor skills, he can hold and stroke him, and run his thumb over the head of Louis' cock when he pulls back. Breathless, even though he doesn't strictly need to breathe. It all just feels good.

"I felt you against my mind," he says. "We can. Will you show me how?"