Because you're gonna show me is, Louis knows, meant to elicit specific instruction.

And it does, in part. Louis' fingers following Daniel's, guiding, encouraging. Breath coming in heavy pants as Daniel touches him, as Louis strays further and further into his head. Desperately present in his mind as Louis' thumb strokes his cheek, lets Daniel have all the sounds his work drives out of him.

He lets Daniel have this too: how much he likes the way Daniel touches him, how much Louis has imagined him touching him this way. The way Louis has imagined having him, laying Daniel out across his bed, across the floor. Throwing a thigh over his hip to sink down onto him, hitching Daniel's thighs up around his hips to drive into him.

And how he might bite him. Louis' teeth in his thigh, his throat, the sounds Louis would make, the sounds Daniel would.

Look at me like a shorthand for what Louis means to do. To let Daniel see him, as clearly as possible through the haze of desire and impatience coloring all Louis' thoughts. Drags his fingers down Daniel's nape, across his shoulders, tangling fingers into Daniel's to slow the pace, direct the way he touches himself.

"Daniel," is strained, breathless. "You done making me wait?"