It's a strange position to realize it, but Daniel understands, under Armand's praise, that he hadn't really been joking. Overcompensating for the black hole inside him, maybe, but on a level bigger than doing every drug off every dick he ever met. No, the overcompensation had been in the marriages, the family he hadn't taken seriously enough-- trying to make up for the fact that he'd never get what he'd really wanted.

It's not the time to bring it up, even if he knows it must play across his face for a second or two.

He's grateful when Armand gives him an order to follow, as lovely and arch as it is. "Yeah," he says, hoarse and happily overwhelmed, scrambling off the bed and onto his knees, folding up in a way that feels familiar-- even if he can't remember.