Want crests hard in Daniel at that sudden undressing, nipple tightening under Armand's fingers, the heartbeat behind it an interested gallop. All the marriage stuff is whatever when they've got this, the easy attunement to each other's desires, the frightening dynamic that was established in the most fucked up way possible back in '73 now almost a comfort.

Daniel tips his head back, grinning, teeth dropped very slightly with the sheer wanting. "Impitoyable," he confirms happily, aware Armand might tear his throat out — or relentlessly edge him - just to prove Daniel right. Does he mean it? Well, he means it now, draping back onto the altar, bare elbows scraping stone, pupils huge. "I never properly learned how to pray," he apologises, but maybe he doesn't need to when he's looking at Armand like this.