An impossible luxury, to think of knowing someone forever. That kind of constant. A north star. Daniel had long given up keeping anyone even for a mortal lifetime. Something for other people, who live other lives, in which they are easy to get along with and better at compromise. But not anyone like him.

And then, this. Louis.

They're the same kind of stupid. Maybe that's the trick.

Louis wants to see him come again. He can do that, and he murmurs something like a fond laugh into their kisses.

"Hedonist," he accuses, like Daniel isn't. Like everything in this new life hasn't been about returning to everything that he's ever gotten off doing.