What begins so softly quickly becomes heated; Armand makes a small noise into Louis' mouth as he's caressed, parting his lips to allow Louis to taste him, to slide his tongue over the points of his fangs. His own hands tighten in the folds of Louis' shirt, then slide upwards, underneath, seeking skin, seeking the buttons on the front to undo as much clothing as possible as quickly as possible.

"For all of three days." Teasing, fond, glad to hear it. Glad, always, to have Louis all to himself, to bask in the warmth of his affection. He digs the sharp points of his fingernails into Louis' back in the way he knows Louis enjoys, a flare of pain to sweeten the pleasure.

"Louis," Armand murmurs into his mind, just for the joy of saying his name. Out loud, he groans softly, chasing kisses, pulling himself up hard against Louis' body as the tension rises between them. If he is the safe place for Louis, the quiet within the noise, let it be so, let him sink into his body and be lost for a while. Armand can think of no better reason to surrender.

"Louis." He shudders, increasingly desperate. "Take me here on the lawn."