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Summary
“How should I refer to you?" He asks, aware that he should've asked this way sooner, but Armand was too busy kissing and biting him, so it's not really his fault. Armand looks at him in confusion, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.
"Armand."
"No, I mean—" Daniel trails off in laughter and stops only once Armand's expression turns serious, "Is there a specific way I should call you right now?"
“I call Louis maître.”
French, uh? And no, he's not fucking calling Armand the same thing he uses with someone else, in the opposite position. That feels like particularly bad etiquette, and Daniel's never been one for rules, but this is the type of thing it feels he shouldn't play with. “No. That's out of the table,” Daniel says, unsettlingly firm.
Armand takes a moment to ponder around the question again. "I don't think there's a specific way I'd like to be called."
"Nothing? Really?” Daniel wonders, "We don't have to go there, but what about 'Sir'? Or maybe 'Lord'? Oh... Maybe something softer like 'Dear' or 'Beloved'? Perhaps 'Boss'...?"
Armand seems unconvinced.
"Daddy?" He tries at last.
Armand's eyes light up. It's too evident to hide the reaction.