Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bar was not one of his usual haunts, but Daniel figured the whole beggars/choosers thing applied in this situation. He was trying to take a break from the harder stuff these days, so he needed to avoid the places where he and his vices were better known. But after the article he just delivered to the editor, he definitely needed a drink. Or two. Two probably. Especially if he wanted a justification – or perhaps plausible deniability – for the other thing he definitely needed.

It had been too long since he felt another body against his. Inside his.

Daniel was almost finished with the second drink and contemplating a third when he felt eyes watching him. He tried to be subtle – not always his strong suit – as he looked around the bar. There was a decent crowd for a Tuesday night, but it didn’t take him long to spot a guy around his age, or a few years older, sitting at a table in the back. With the distance and darkness, Daniel could only get a sort of outline of him, just enough to feel something like a shiver go through his body. There was an understandable and undeniable element of lust to it – from what he could see, the stranger was certainly attractive – but there was also a surprising and confusing tinge of fear as well. Daniel supposed that could be explained by the unsettling way the man was still staring at him. He had the impression that the man had not blinked.

The lust won out. Daniel took the last sip of his drink, then stood, leaving the empty glass on the bar as he made his way to the back of the room. He tried to think of an opener that wouldn’t sound too much like a line, without much luck. Turns out he didn’t really need one.

“Won’t you join me?” the man asked as soon as Daniel was close enough.

It sounded like he had some kind of accent, and his voice was soft but…crisp, was the best description Daniel could think of. He wanted to listen to the man talk for hours.

He sat down, immediately reaching out for a handshake. The man’s hand was cold, despite the heat of the bar, but his grip was strong and confident. Daniel wondered how that hand would feel wrapped around – he shut that thought down. For the moment.

“I’m Daniel.”

“Armand,” came the reply.

“Armand? That’s…interesting.”

“Good interesting or bad interesting?” British. That was the accent.

“Good. Unusual. Memorable.”

Armand gave him a small smile that Daniel didn’t quite understand. But all he said was “May I buy you a drink?”

Daniel inhaled, exhaled, thought about it, thought about the two drinks that were already impacting his lower tolerance these days, thought about what he’d like to do with Armand instead. Thought about that last bit quite vividly, actually, and when Armand’s gaze on him turned heated, he had the strange fear that he could somehow read his mind.

“You haven’t even finished that one,” Daniel pointed out, nodding towards the full glass on the table coated with a layer of condensation. Armand was running one long, unusually sharp fingernail around the rim of it in an almost hypnotizing motion.

“I was rather desperate for a drink tonight, but unfortunately couldn’t find something I had a taste for here.”

Daniel hummed. Fuck it. “I have a bottle of some damn good whiskey back at my place. Only a couple blocks from here.”

They held eye contact for one long beat, and then Armand pushed the glass away and stood.

“Lead the way.”

Daniel tried not to grin too widely.

They arrived at Daniel’s apartment much sooner than he had expected; he barely even remembered the walk, as if he had been in some sort of daze or trance. He unlocked the door, feeling self-conscious about the condition of the apartment as he led Armand in. It was a small studio, a loveseat in a corner with a coffee table that was his desk and dining table in one, a very efficient kitchenette and crowded bathroom, and the bed taking up most of the rest of the space. Nearly every inch was covered with books and newspapers.

Daniel didn’t know if he should apologize for the place or offer a drink first or perhaps – Armand closed the door behind him, and Daniel heard the lock click into place moments before he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him backwards. He grunted softly as his back hit the door but could only smile when Armand pressed his body up against Daniel’s.

“Hi,” he said, smiling in anticipation.

Armand reached a hand up to cup the side of Daniel’s neck and rubbed his thumb softly along Daniel’s jaw. It felt strangely familiar and sent another shudder down Daniel’s spine. He was pretty sure he’d never been so turned on in his life, and they hadn’t even really started.

God, he was ready to start.

Armand smiled at him, leaned even closer and connected their lips. Daniel immediately opened his mouth, sliding his tongue along Armand’s teeth before probing inside his mouth with it. Armand met him with equal passion, his body sinking even more onto Daniel’s. One solid thigh pressed between his legs, right up against Daniel’s rock-hard cock, and he moaned loudly as he began to grind against it.

He had the strangest desire to be kneed, for Armand to just press the bony joint right into his groin and press and press until pain surpassed pleasure. He wanted to be destroyed by this man. Consumed, even. He had never felt like this before. And he couldn’t hold back.

Things got hazy again after that. Clothes were torn off and shoes kicked away and soon they were push-pulling each other away from the door and towards the bed. Daniel fell onto the mattress with a small bounce, laughing as he crab-crawled onto it fully.

“I want you to fuck me,” he begged rather breathlessly. “Will you fuck me?”

Armand didn’t answer verbally, but the hot way he grabbed Daniel and tossed him onto his stomach, like Daniel weighed nothing, was answer enough. He tried to get on his hands and knees, but then Armand’s mouth was on his ass, his tongue in Daniel’s hole, and he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He collapsed with a whimper or a whine, some sound he probably would be embarrassed about later, when his brain returned to him.

For now, though, he simply rolled his hips against the rough comforter neither of them cared about pulling down, and he tugged a pillow closer so he could muffle his cries. As Armand continued to lick inside him, Daniel humped the bed shamelessly, blindly reaching one arm behind himself to grab onto some part of Armand – his shoulder, maybe – gripping tight and digging his nails into the flesh in a fruitless attempt to pull him closer.

And then Armand was moving again, making Daniel feel empty and yearning for a brief moment before he pushed into him, filling him just right, barely waiting for any sort of signal from Daniel that he was ready before he pulled back again and then started thrusting. He grazed Daniel’s prostate with every single stroke.

“Fuck, man,” Daniel managed to grunt around the wide grin he couldn’t fully hide in the pillow. This was amazing, the best fucking sex he’s ever had.

Armand wrapped one arm under Daniel’s pit, cupping the hand over his shoulder to pull him tight, hold him closer, as he moved inside Daniel even faster. He could hear Armand’s harsh breathing, feel the occasional lick of his lips or press of his teeth against the scar Daniel pretended to ignore. But other than that, Armand was completely silent, completely focused, as he brought Daniel to a pleasure higher than any fix he could remember.

He reached down, shifting slightly to get a hand underneath himself. He barely grabbed hold of his cock before, with a sob torn from deep in his chest, he came, splashing his release all over the comforter. (It was too big for the small washer in the basement of the converted house he shared with four other units, and he wasn’t about to bring it five blocks to the laundromat so he could pay for the privilege of the whole neighborhood seeing his come stains. But frankly, new bedding was a small price to pay for this. Because Armand was still going.)

When he pulled out just enough to turn Daniel again, so they were face to face, Daniel whimpered at the loss. It didn’t last long, though, and soon Armand was lowering himself onto Daniel again. He started moving slower, rocking up into Daniel in a lazy, almost romantic rhythm. He kissed Daniel again, now that they were facing the right way, but broke it soon enough to bury his face against Daniel’s neck. Daniel dug his hands into Armand’s hair, threading his fingers through the curls and pulling lightly. Armand sucked and sucked, right over the scar that vaguely terrified Daniel every time he dared to look at it but now was apparently the most erogenous skin on his entire body. The suction sent tingles directly to his somehow still hard dick and he came again.

Daniel threw his head back with a shout, and Armand embraced him even tighter. It felt like they were a single entity, with Armand’s cock up his ass and his mouth on Daniel’s neck and every inch of them touching in between.

“Right there,” Daniel begged, moaning before he added, “right there, babe. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t think it was humanly possible for him to come a third time, but it certainly still felt like a close possibility when Armand finally let go of his control and his sensuous, metronomic pace, and he filled Daniel with his seed. He briefly collapsed onto Daniel before rolling to the side. Daniel rolled with him, throwing an arm and a leg over him as if he were afraid Armand was going to try to escape.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, chuckling in disbelief.

Armand simply hummed softly. A moment later, he opened his eyes and stared right at Daniel. There must have been a strange trick from the streetlamp sneaking in past the drapes that didn’t quite cover the whole window, because Armand’s eyes looked almost as if they were orange. At any rate, they were beautiful and big and Daniel thought he could probably lose himself in them, if he risked staring too long. Was this what crazy people meant when they talked about love at first sight, or was that still just the orgasm (orgasms! Two!) talking, he wondered.

Armand smiled as if he were amused by something Daniel couldn’t quite understand. But all he said was “we should clean up.”

Daniel nodded. “OK,” he agreed, but didn’t move. Finally, a beat later, “OK,” he repeated. “Just stay here. Please.”

He rolled out of bed quickly then, probably too quickly if the way his legs wobbled when he stood up was any indication. He could feel Armand’s come seeping out of him as he hurried to the bathroom. He was afraid if he let Armand out of his sight, he would disappear, so he found a cloth and wet it as soon as he could.

He rubbed the towel over his own groin and ass as he returned to the bed, then crawled onto it. He knelt directly over Armand, who waited for him, leaning up against the wall with pillows around him as if he were sitting on some kind of throne.

“Let me clean you up, boss.” Boss? Had Daniel ever called someone that in his life? He didn’t think he even called his actual boss that. But it was as honest as it was subconscious. This man could ask him to do pretty much anything and he would. Jesus, he felt insane about it.

Armand didn’t say anything, just sat there motionless, staring at Daniel as he wiped Armand’s body down. The effect of the gaze was too much, and Daniel barely threw the towel to the ground before he crawled into Armand’s lap. They kissed again and again, running their hands over each other’s bodies aimlessly. Eventually, with some effort, they repositioned themselves so Armand was fully on his back and Daniel was stretched out on top of him. He rotated his hips, grinding into Armand in a way that was more of a pleasant reminder of their recent activities than a suggestive hint of renewed ones.

Daniel sighed, relaxing fully. He felt himself drifting off to sleep, lulled into the state by Armand’s fingers lightly stroking up and down his naked back.

“Fascinating,” Armand murmured, so low Daniel almost didn’t hear it.

“What is?” Daniel asked.

“You.”

“Me?” Daniel breathed out a laugh. “What’s fascinating about me?”

“Everything.”

“Don’t leave,” was Daniel’s only reply. “Don’t sneak out.”

Armand didn’t respond, didn’t promise anything, but Daniel just hoped he’d listen. As he fell asleep, he realized that his buzz hadn’t really even lasted the walk home and he had taken no drugs that evening. Yet his time with Armand had still been the best high he ever had.

Maybe it was time to admit he might be a smidgen gay, and not just as a means to an end.

That was an identity crisis for another day, though, because when Daniel woke up in the morning, Armand was still there. He, in fact, stayed the next two days, and the two of them christened every square foot of Daniel’s tiny apartment in every position Daniel knew and several more that Armand taught him. The curtains stayed closed and the light stayed off, and they only stopped occasionally when Daniel called in sick to work or passed out from exhausted bliss or had to eat or piss – he had to force Armand to do the same, their naked limbs wrapped around each other as he hand-fed an indulgent, reluctant Armand the broken bits of crackers at the bottom of the box, which was all he had. Daniel thought it odd, yet extremely flattering, that the man almost seemed to forget about basic bodily functions in favor of pleasuring each other.

By the time Armand finally left shortly after the sun went down on the third day, Daniel’s body was bruised, used and abused. The scar on his neck looked freshly red and swollen from how often Armand had sucked and nibbled at it, but now at least he had some good memories to associate with it. The last few days were actually blurring together for Daniel, and he felt like he was missing several moments here and there even though he knew he hadn’t been asleep at those times.

If nothing else, it was starting to feel like the craziest bender of his life.

So, if he went with that metaphor, then Armand was his new addiction. And he made sure to extract a phone number and promise that he’d get his next fix soon.

It was not the first time Armand had seen him since…the last time. He had secretly monitored Daniel’s media appearances, followed his public social media, and had even purchased the online class through one of his accounts that was hidden from Louis. He was almost embarrassed by the fact that he had binged every installment one week when Louis was out of the country.

At any rate, Daniel’s appearance should not have been – was not – a shock. Armand was well aware of the “like a fine wine”, or for some features, the less conventionally desirable, ways that Daniel had aged. The almost irresistible urge to cross the room and run his hands through the loose gray curls reminded Armand once again how very fascinating and beautiful he had always found his boy.

And the emphatic denial of being a boy reminded him just how frustratingly stubborn he could be as well.

Despite Louis’s promises that Armand could stay and observe as much as he desired, he found himself dismissed almost immediately. He barely controlled his reaction to that, deciding to choose his battles for later days when Louis might be more likely to get to more…delicate parts of his story.

But Armand couldn’t control himself when, just before he exited the room, he turned to look at Daniel one more time. Louis and Daniel were already focused entirely on each other, allowing Armand the freedom to…admire.

He was still hesitant and very wary of this whole endeavor, but he couldn’t deny how very happy he was to see Daniel again.

Chapter Text

The tapping of the typewriter keys seemed unusually loud in the small space of Daniel’s studio, but maybe that was because everything seemed unusually loud. The cars on the street outside. The ticking of the hands of the clock. The neighbors fighting.

Armand’s harsh breaths through his nose while his mouth was wrapped around Daniel’s cock. The occasional slurp and swallow when his spit and the fluid leaking out of Daniel got to be too much.

He had shown up an hour or so ago, wanting to take Daniel out dancing at some new gay club he’d heard about, where they could rub against each other for hours before returning to the apartment to rub against each other some more. But Daniel was very firm – stubborn, Armand had called it - that he had to finish his article before he could do anything fun, out of the apartment or in it.

He had almost won the argument until he offhandedly mentioned – forgetting Armand’s obsession with technology - that the article was about some new system for using a laser beam to read lines stuck on items at grocery stores. Armand forgot all about the club then, just asked more questions about the so-called bar codes. Finally, Daniel had shouted something about Armand finding something else to do with his mouth so Daniel could finish the damn article and meet his damn deadline.

The look on Armand’s face, when his teeth clacked together from how quickly he stopped talking, was stunned but heated as hell. And soon enough, they ended up in their current set-up – Daniel trying and most likely failing to produce something coherent, bending at an odd angle over the top of Armand to type; Armand on his knees between Daniel’s legs, holding Daniel’s cock in his pleasantly warm, wet, soft mouth.

It wasn’t a BJ, not really. It was something much more…strange in terms of how much it aroused Daniel. The quiet stillness. The sense of power or control he felt like he had over Armand, just in the way he was at least pretending to ignore and dismiss him. The way Armand seemed dazed, almost detached, from his surroundings. His eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly to rest against Daniel’s thigh. He hadn’t shifted once, although his knees must have been killing him.

Daniel sighed. He took a moment to slide the fingers of one hand into Armand’s curls, then dragged them back up, the nails scratching his scalp lightly. Armand moaned, his mouth opening slightly with the sound before he formed the seal again and took Daniel even further down his throat.

Fuck.

“One more paragraph,” he whispered, to remind himself or reassure Armand or tease them both, he wasn’t sure.

With some reluctance, he pulled his hand away again so he could type. It was definitely the worst shit he ever wrote in his life, but the goal was to get a draft. The editor could do his part and actually edit. Daniel pushed the typewriter back farther onto the coffee table, then flopped back against the couch. He slid down a bit in his seat as he did so, even as he reached both hands back to Armand’s head.

In return, Armand nodded, humming in encouragement and pulling Daniel into an awkward sort of hug as he repositioned himself. Daniel gripped tight, pulling at the hair harder than he intended to – not that Armand ever complained about a streak of pain – and began rocking his hips up.

He fucked Armand’s face faster and faster, gasping for breath, staring up at the water stain on the ceiling of his shitty apartment. After all that build-up, he didn’t last long, shooting down Armand’s throat with a yell within less than a minute. They both nearly collapsed then, as if invisible strings holding them up had snapped.

Finally, Armand pulled away, much to Daniel’s disappointment, but the way he stared up at Daniel as he ran his finger and thumb along his lips to clean up, the way he stretched and worked his jaw after – shit – something like 40 minutes of strain…Daniel almost could go again, just from that.

“Come up here,” he said instead. “I’ll take care of you.”

Armand raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Daniel looked down and saw the stain spreading across the front of Armand’s pants.

“Come up here,” he repeated somewhat breathlessly.

Armand did move then, turning around so his back was to Daniel as they rearranged themselves and curled up big spoon to little spoon on the loveseat that was far too short for that purpose. But neither of them really noticed or cared about that. Daniel wrapped an arm around Armand and held him close. A few minutes. They could rest a few minutes before he had to run the article over to the editor’s office.

The next morning, after he’d woken up alone in the sunlight shining through the curtains he hadn’t bothered to close the night before, stiff and sore from the night on the loveseat, after he ran out of the apartment not bothering to shower and barely remembering to zip his pants, he got yelled at for quite some time. But the piece got edited and published and that was all that mattered.

Well, that, and wondering how soon he’d see Armand again.

Daniel had a strange sense of déjà vu, watching Armand’s back as he mixed drinks at the counter. Sure, Rashid flashbacks were a part of it, but he was more focused on the dream he had last night (well, day). It was the first dream he could remember having since being turned. At first, he thought it had been another dream about those days in Divisadero, or around then, because he was young and Armand was there. But none of the memories Louis and Daniel had uncovered involved Daniel having wild, desperate sex with Armand, or Daniel jokingly biting Armand’s jaw as he laughed during some story he was telling Armand, or him begging and fighting tears as Armand left him yet again, or the different drugs he took to forget everything after leaving Armand by his own choice.

It could be some sort of melding of the torture memories with the rather hedonistic lifestyle he and Armand had been enjoying since arriving in New York, but Daniel wasn’t so sure about that.

He forced it from his mind as Armand turned and offered him one of the martini glasses with a flourish and a smile.

Daniel took a sip, smacked his lips, and exhaled. “Just like Duke’s.”

“With a tiny crimson twist,” Armand replied with a wink.

Daniel narrowed his eyes and took another sip. It was indeed the same as Daniel remembered from Dubai before he had to drink Real Rashid’s inferior versions. But he could also taste something that he would never have noticed back then. A very familiar taste, at this point.

“You were dosing me?” he asked, aiming for angry but falling short.

Armand smirked, holding up two fingers a millimeter apart from each other. “A couple drops.”

The anger slipped away, leaving only lust. That asshole. “What do I gotta do to get more than a couple drops?”

Armand sat in the seat across from him, holding his glass out to the side lazily. “Beg,” he said, attempting cold indifference but he didn’t fool Daniel. Daniel tossed the rest of his drink back quickly, then propelled himself out of his own chair. He dropped to his knees, crawling forward even as Armand put his drink on the coaster next to him – Daniel hadn’t even owned fucking coasters before Armand – and hurried to unzip and push down his pants.

One thing about vampirism was that Daniel was now as insatiable as he had always been shameless, so it didn’t even occur to him to be bothered about spending the next half hour bent over Armand’s lap, slowly sucking from one thigh while he humped the other leg like a dog until they both climaxed.

Maybe it was because he still was kind of annoyed about the whole communicating with his doctor over electronic mail thing, but Daniel didn’t try very hard to resist the urge to interrupt Rashid while he was praying.

Maybe it was because the kid was damned beautiful, giving Daniel all sorts of ideas just by sitting there on his knees and showing more cleavage than a supermodel. And yeah, he knew that Louis – wherever he was hiding out in that mausoleum he called an apartment – could probably hear his thoughts. Who cared? Louis knew exactly what Daniel was, and had for years. Besides, he was old enough to know that fantasies never hurt anyone.

And God, that coy little way Rashid blinked at him and sucked in his lips? He’d be fantasizing about that one for a while.

“You want to go to a movie?”

“Yes. It’s at 7 PM.”

“Come on, man. Not another movie.”

“It’s a comedy. About Frankenstein.”

“Not a club or something? A movie?”

“We once put on a performance of Frankenstein, actually. As a little inside joke about the Gothic literary genre.”

“We who? What are you talking about?”

“My theater troupe.”

“…What?”

“I was the artistic director of a theater of vampires for 150 years.”

Daniel didn’t say anything for a long moment. He simply blinked at Armand. Of all the things he had been learning about Armand’s long life since the truth was revealed, this had to be the most…unexpected.

“I was never much of an actor, and that all…ended poorly, but it was my coven and the theater was still better than other things I had done before.”

“I just…” Daniel shook his head. “OK, let’s go to a movie. But you’re paying. And I’m getting popcorn.”

“Of course, beloved.”

Daniel stood, looking around for his coat. Armand suddenly came up behind him and he involuntarily flinched. He was not afraid of Armand, perhaps foolishly, but it didn’t change the fact that his body still could sense the danger he posed.

“I want you to wear this,” Armand murmured, even as he held a pendant of some kind up to Daniel’s neck.

“Uh…not really a jewelry guy,” Daniel replied. He reached a hand up to touch the ornate vial that seemed to be filled with…yep, that was blood.

“This is not jewelry,” Armand argued. “This is protection.”

“I don’t understand.”

Armand finished clasping the chain, then ran one hand down Daniel’s arm until their fingers interlocked. “That is my blood,” he explained. “It will warn any other vampires that you belong to me.”

Daniel fought a smile and rocked back against Armand’s chest. “I do, huh?”

“This may very well keep you alive. Never take it off.”

“Not even to shower?”

“I am serious, Daniel.”

Daniel laughed as he turned to face Armand. He lifted his arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “OK, you got it, boss.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll never take it off. I belong to you.”

Armand’s eyes darkened as he dropped his gaze to Daniel’s lips. He pulled him in for another kiss, which turned heated very fast. They started blindly backing up towards the bed.

“We’re going to miss the movie,” Daniel teased between kisses.

“There’s another showing at 9.”

Everything about the painting was familiar to him. Sure, the overwrought religious imagery was not unusual in and of itself. But this specific painting…

“It’s Venetian. A contemporary of Tintoretto’s.”

Daniel looked at the boytoy butler, then faced forward again. He leaned in, trying to make the name out from the artist’s signature. “Marius de Romanus. Never heard of him.”

“Little of his work survives. Mr. de Pointe du Lac covets the rare.”

The kid annoyed him, and he could tell by the tone of his voice that the feeling was mutual. Didn’t change the fact that the word covet felt a little too relevant for other feelings Daniel had when he looked at him.

Probably why he couldn’t stop himself from asking Rashid about the nature of his relationship with Louis. Louis may have been a vampire, but he was also only human.

Or apparently a god. Daniel tried not to scowl or roll his eyes at the over-the-top expression of devotion.

Chapter Text

The wheezing, asthmatic sound Daniel was making with each breath was probably a sign he should cut back on the smoking. But God damn, he was certainly getting his exercise since meeting Armand. His heart was pounding as he rested on top of Armand’s back, his cock still nestled in Armand’s ass. With every slight shift due to the very uncomfortable kitchen counter they were bent over, one or the other of them moaned, but they could not move much more than that.

It had only been two days since they’d last seen each other, but it had felt like two years or something. Daniel was unbuckling his pants even as he opened the door for Armand, and neither of them bothered undressing any more than they needed to. Hell, they were only five or six steps away from the bed, but apparently that was too far.

Fuck, it had been hot. Although Daniel should probably cautiously broach the subject of…

“Hey, babe?”

“Mmm?” Armand replied, his eyes still closed and his cheek squashed flat on the countertop.

“You, ah, you know how you wanted me to spank you?”

“Mmhmm?” Curious more than embarrassed. OK. Daniel could adjust.

“Just…that’s a thing you like?”

“I asked for it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, just…”

“I like to be hit a bit. Sometimes. I like to be…dominated.”

“Uh…huh.”

Daniel exhaled, and finally pulled out of Armand. Armand took the opportunity to stand up and turn around, pulling up his pants even as he pulled Daniel close, until they were hugging. The jagged edges of Armand’s open zipper rubbed against Daniel’s cock and he shivered at the sensation.

“I just…don’t want to hurt you.”

Armand smiled fondly, lifting a hand to Daniel’s cheek. “You can’t hurt me.”

“OK, tough guy,” Daniel shot back with a laugh. “I meant, like, emotionally. Mentally.”

A deep sigh indicated Armand was finally taking him seriously. “I do like it, really. But yes, I don’t always – I can have difficulty – would safe words make you feel better?”

The only reason he even knew what safe words were were because Armand had brought him to a very underground club a week or two ago where people were doing things. All sorts of things that involved leather and shit. This relationship was proving to be quite the education.

“Yes, it would.”

“Very well. If I realize I’m not enjoying something, I will say…Venice.”

“Venice?” Daniel asked, trying to figure out why an Italian city would reflect Armand’s discomfort with and desire or need to stop sexual acts.

“Indeed. And you will say?”

Daniel reeled at that question. “I’ve wanted every touch you’ve given me,” he flirted rather than thinking too closely about why that didn’t quite feel like the truth.

Armand’s answering smile was…predatory. “So far.”

“Jesus,” Daniel breathed out. “OK, fine. Um…typewriter?”

Armand nodded once, then leaned forward to kiss Daniel softly. Once they separated, Daniel sighed and sunk further into the hug. He blinked once or twice as his eyes started to close and then…he saw the marks.

“God damn it,” he cursed, separating from Armand and pushing him aside so he could get closer to the counter.

Ten thin lines shaved into the surface, lining up with where Armand had clawed while Daniel fucked him with everything he had. He knew Armand kept his nails unusually sharp, but come on.

“What did you do?” Daniel groaned in despair. “My landlord’s gonna kill me.”

Armand looked at the markings with an air of indifference and shrugged. “Your own fault, really.”

Daniel shook his head, somewhere in between mocking and serious. “Now, I really am going to spank you.”

With a cheerful laugh, Armand moved in the direction of the bed. “Yes, please.”

Daniel did not feel sorry for Armand. Or Amadeo. Or Arun. Whatever his name is. A tragic backstory was not enough to counteract how much of an obviously lying asshole he was. Daniel wasn’t falling for it.

He wasn’t.

And later, he certainly didn’t buy the whole romantic park bench in the rain scene, where Armand supposedly submitted to Louis and their companionship truly began.

None of this was the romance they wanted him to believe it was. He honestly didn’t know who had it worse. Especially considering the way Armand had watched, distraught and wretched, as Louis disappeared into the memories of his hallucination? haunting? schizophrenic episode? that provoked far more authentic emotion than had any moments he described with Armand.

To be frank, Daniel didn’t know if the urge to roll his eyes or punch one of them was stronger. He also didn’t know, much to his chagrin, which one he wanted to punch and which one he wanted to comfort.

“My love?... My love.”

The second time Louis spoke, or at least the second time Armand had heard it, was pointed enough to break through his concentration. He looked up, saw the hesitant but vaguely stubborn expression on Louis’s face, and sighed in dread. Stalling, he glanced at the page number to commit it to memory, closed his book and put it aside, then folded his hands over his lap.

“Yes, dear?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

Armand raised one eyebrow curiously. Judging by the anxiety now exuding from Louis, it was not a suggestion he was going to enthusiastically agree to.

“I would like to record my life story.”

Armand blinked. After a moment, he asked “What’s stopping you? Surely not the Great Laws. You’ve never cared about them before.”

“No.” Louis shook his head, shifted forward in his seat across from Armand. “I don’t want to…write a memoir or diary. I want to – I need to work through the memories with someone.”

“Like…a therapist? Louis, I don’t think – ”

“Not a therapist. But something like that, I guess. There are parts that are so jumbled, as you know. I think if I could look at them clearly, I could put them aside finally, and we could – ”

Armand looked away, knowing that Louis was manipulating him with the hint at closure and a new start. Knowing it was happening didn’t mean he could resist it though. It also didn’t mean he would just give in, not with the current atmosphere.

“You’ve heard the others’ communications just as I have. Something’s happening. It would not be safe to draw attention to yourself right now.”

“You just said you know I don’t care about the Great Laws.”

Armand sighed. “You’re set on this?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. I’m sure there are any number of biographers or – ”

“I intend to ask Daniel Molloy. Call it a do-over.”

Even one of the human servants could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Armand struggled not to react, working his mouth against the instinct to let his fangs drop.

“Of all people…”

Louis stood and began to pace. “It has to be him. That week is one of the memories I – I – I don’t know. It has to be him.”

“That was such a miserable time for us,” Armand reminded him pointedly. “He was part of the reason why.”

“My…spiraling was the reason why. You flitting in and out, fucking around – don’t deny it – for the next decade didn’t help either. One bad trip on his blood is not the reason why we weren’t working.”

Armand glared, trying to read Louis’s mind to see if he had remembered or figured out something. Why now? Why him? Why bring all this up again? They were…they were content. But his own emotions were all over the place and he couldn’t read Louis. He exhaled loudly, turning to face away until he could calm himself.

“I need this. You can ask for any conditions you want; you can be here the whole time. But I need this.”

Armand crossed his arms, breathing heavily but already feeling himself giving in. To Louis begging him. And to the treacherous thought he was trying to suppress – a chance to see him again, before it was too late…

“Arun.”

Armand sighed. “Yes, maitre.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard from my maker.”

“No.”

“Fucking asshole.”

“I’m sorry you were burdened out of spite.”

So far down in his brain he wouldn’t actually send the message to Louis, Daniel thought “it was love.”

So far down in his heart he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, Daniel thought “I didn’t mean ‘stay gone’.”

Their first fight was…not stupid, exactly, and not even really a fight per se. Daniel felt very justified in his emotions and his reactions. Maybe it was just more pointless. Because he knew he was so far deep, so far in, that it didn’t matter in the end. When Armand showed up again, he was going to take him back.

It all started with Daniel jokingly (or was it?) suggesting that they spend the night at Armand’s place for a change. Surely, he was sick of always being the one to come over, having to fold his long body into Daniel’s tiny home and bed. Daniel wanted to just see the place, learn more about who Armand was when he wasn’t with Daniel. But maybe secretly, it was because he wanted to know who Armand was with when he wasn’t with Daniel. Because that was the only explanation that made sense, wasn’t it? The reticence Armand sometimes showed, turning discussion back onto the topic of Daniel whenever things got too close to his own life. The insistence on keeping their homes so separate.

“I like it here,” was Armand’s initial response. “You and me, in our own little cocoon.”

If Daniel had been smarter, he would have just accepted it, agreed like he had all the previous times he’d raised the subject and been shot down.

Many people had called Daniel a smartass but no one had ever accused him of being all that smart, at least when it came to things like this.

“We could be in our own little cocoon at your place, too,” he pointed out faux-innocently. “And I’d be willing to bet your sheets have a much higher thread count than mine.”

“Mmm, but you like it a little rough, don’t you?”

Something like that, especially when combined with the little wink and smile that Armand sent with it, would normally be enough for Daniel to drop the questioning and prove once again how very much he liked it a little rough. But Daniel was done.

“We wouldn’t be, though, would we?” he asked. Armand raised an eyebrow in a way that just annoyed Daniel even more. “In our own little cocoon, that is.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Someone else lives there with you.”

Armand dropped eye contact, which was answer enough.

“Who?” Daniel asked, pissed at the way his voice broke.

“Not your concern,” Armand replied immediately.

Daniel licked his lips and swallowed, even more pissed at the way his heart broke. “OK.” He exhaled sharply, opening his eyes wide in an attempt to stave off the stinging that warned of stupid fucking tears. “OK, so…what am I then?”

A long pause. “Not his concern,” Armand finally said.

Daniel scoffed, closed his eyes, shook his head. “Get out.”

He didn’t open his eyes again for several long moments. He didn’t hear any movement, no opening and shutting of the door even. But when he finally risked it, there was no sign of Armand.

For two whole weeks, Daniel stayed strong. If one could call crying in the shower, barely eating, sleeping even less, and once, fucking a guy whose name he didn’t know but who he ran into every couple days at the shop down the street but oddly never again after they slept together strong.

Starting in the third week, Armand started making his presence known again. A new spool of ribbon for Daniel’s typewriter sitting on the corner of the table. Fresh groceries a couple days after the last of Daniel’s paycheck had run out and his stomach ached from hunger. A pack of smokes in his jacket pocket, an imported brand that Armand preferred and Daniel himself said was too strong and too snooty but secretly loved. He was outside their bar, smoking one of the cigs in the alley and trying to decide if the wooing was adorable in a cat leaving dead mice for its owner sort of way or far too concerning, considering Armand emphatically did not have a key to Daniel’s apartment, when a shiver ran up his back. The sense of danger he felt was more familiar than anything. He was not alone, but maybe he didn’t want to be anymore, either.

“OK,” he whispered. “Fine.”

Moments later, Armand was there, materializing out of the darkness of the back alley. He pulled Daniel into a hug before he even had a chance to respond. One big, cold hand cupped his neck, the thumb reaching up to stroke Daniel’s cheek. He felt a shuddering breath exhaled along the side of his head. Daniel stepped even closer, breathing in the scent of Armand.

“I hate you,” he lied.

“I love you,” Armand said in return. It was the first time he’d said it, and Daniel wanted to scream, to scratch at him, to bite. Punish him in some way for saying it now. Saying it when there was still someone else.

“More than you love him?” he asked, trying not to sound petulant.

“…Differently than I love him.”

Daniel sighed. “I’ll take it.”

Armand was exhausted by the time he got home. He could still hear Daniel’s pleas, still taste the salt of his tears that coated his lips and cheeks when Armand lost the battle against himself and kissed the sleeping Daniel goodbye. He had even taken extra time – traveling back using human modes of transportation – in order to try to recover from the ordeal. It wasn’t enough, though, and Louis called him out on it almost immediately.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” Louis observed, in that pointed way he had sometimes.

Armand hummed in acknowledgment but not in explanation. The avoidance only seemed to provoke Louis.

“Did he or she end things with you finally, whoever it is you think I don’t know about?”

“I’ve never hidden it.”

“You’ve never admitted it either.”

Armand sighed. “I ended things. For good.”

“Ah. Well.” Louis seemed at a loss that Armand hadn’t escalated the argument or continued the lie. “I hope you disposed of the body properly.”

He stepped closer and gave Armand a soft peck to the lips, an implicit promise that they still had each other, despite everything. Armand smiled briefly.

“Let’s find somewhere new. The Middle East or North Africa, perhaps. It’s time we moved on from here, anyway.”

Louis gave him one more searching look, then seemed to agree with the unspoken bargain or compromise. “All right, if you’d like.”

Armand returned the quick kiss. “I love you.” All he could hear with those words were Daniel’s gasping sobs that afternoon, the way he used to moan them when they made love, how he’d laugh them out when he teased Armand.

“I love you.” Louis’s response was followed, as always, with a quick glance to the empty corner of the room.

They were both haunted now.

Chapter Text

“Is that Stephen with a v or ph?” Daniel asked, flashing a quick smile up at the older guy waiting for his autograph.

His autograph. Because Daniel was on a book tour. Because he was a published author. He still wanted to pinch himself sometimes. He still loved journalism, and of course had seen his byline so many times it was almost old hat, but there was something very different about seeing copies of his book piled up in the window of fucking bookstores, the back cover photo of him pointing out on some of them. There was something crazy about people gathering to listen to him read, lining up to get his signature on the book they just bought.

Even still, his arm was getting as tired as his brain, and he only half listened to Steven – with a v – praise his writing as he scribbled his name. The tour was winding up after multiple cities, after weeks of his agent and editor controlling almost his every move.

Tonight, they were in San Francisco, and his body had been buzzing with the hope that he’d see one familiar and adored and missed face in the crowd. A foolish hope, maybe, considering he hadn’t seen or heard from Armand in nearly 10 months, after Daniel made the decision to move to New York in pursuit of a different writing environment and new opportunities and maybe to once again try to kick some of the bad habits he kept falling back into – and after Louis had made the decision to want Armand around again. It probably should have been painfully obvious to Daniel that Armand would never have gone east with him once that alternative had been offered, that he’d never choose Daniel over Louis. He certainly knew that their off-again times tended to correspond with Louis and Armand’s on-again times. He wasn’t stupid.

But maybe he was. Because he still hoped. He still looked around. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Armand came in search of him after all. Maybe he would get lucky and Louis would push him away again just at the right time.

And then – there – three or four people back in line - the smooth, dark skin, the black curls, the towering height. Daniel’s breath caught and his heart skipped a beat and he almost convinced himself he felt that old familiar shiver down his spine.

Then the college kid in front of him stepped out of his line of sight and the woman turned to face him. She was gorgeous, a knock-out. At least two inches of her height was due to the heels that did absolute wonders for her calves and ass. She wore a purple dress that clung to all the right curves. Her hair cascaded down her back. She smiled when she saw Daniel looking, and he blushed as he focused on the person in front of him again.

Soon enough, she was next in line. Daniel summoned all his courage and all his suaveness (what little there was) and gave her his best knowing grin. He quickly but obviously checked her out again.

“Hi there, what’s your name?”

“Alice.”

“Beautiful name,” he observed, picking up his pen, leaning over the book slightly so she couldn’t see what he wrote.

To Alice,

Would love to buy you a drink.

Daniel Molloy

He snapped the book shut, handed it back to her with another wide grin.

“Thanks for coming, Alice.”

She lifted the corner of her mouth in a half-smile. “Haven’t yet,” she replied with a wink.

Daniel huffed out a sharp, unexpected laugh, watching her walk away for a long, long moment before focusing on the next person.

Another half-hour or so passed, before the line finally thinned out, and the bookstore manager let him wrap up. He had his suit jacket on almost immediately, escaped after only a few minutes of pleasantries with lingerers, and then headed for the door of the store. He was exhausted and frustrated, for more than one reason, and he considered whether it was too late to make his way to some of his old stomping grounds or if he should just go back to the hotel.

“You still want to buy me that drink, Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel stopped in his tracks. Alice was in the aisle of new releases right next to the door to the store. The bag holding his book was dangling from her fingertips. Daniel’s entire mood lifted. He smiled, stepped closer.

“Alice, right?”

“I know you remember.”

Daniel’s grin grew wider at her confidence. He gestured with one hand and she led him out of the store. They made small talk, drifting closer and closer to each other, as they passed bar after bar until they reached Daniel’s hotel room.

She was so soft and warm and flexible, and she made the most delicious noises as he ate her out. She pulled at his hair, pulled him up to kiss her with her taste still on his tongue. He broke away to roll the condom on, and then he was inside her. He moaned, his nails digging half-moons into the flesh of her thigh. She gripped his ass, encouraging him wordlessly to go deeper, harder.

Later, when she relaxed on top of him, her hair getting caught in his lips as he breathed and occasionally murmured soft praise to her, he realized that he hadn’t felt such satisfaction and peace in a long time.

“Don’t suppose you ever get to New York?” he asked, only half-joking.

Alice laughed, her shoulders shaking. “Actually, I’m going to start teaching there in the fall. Barnard.”

“Really?”

“Mmm.”

Daniel could hardly believe his luck. “Don’t suppose you would want to do this again sometime?”

“No.”

Well, he was right not to believe it, then.

“I don’t do two-night stands. You want to do this again, you’ll actually buy me a drink first.”

Daniel laughed. “If enough copies of the book sell, I might be able to spring for dinner.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Shh, now. Sleep.”

Daniel smiled, his eyes blinking slower and slower until they closed for good. For the first time in months, he didn’t try to reach out somehow to see if…well, to see if anyone else was there.

Daniel’s finger dropped from his eyebrow as he finished his reminiscing. After a moment of awkwardness – why was he telling Louis this? - he reached out and closed the laptop. He took another bite of the dessert, the bittersweet memories making it taste like chalk to him as well.

“The boy we met in San Francisco. The one who fumbled over his tape recording device, who barely understood the meaning of the story he was being told…He’s still in there somewhere,” Armand observed.

He was, in so many ways that became more and more apparent the longer they spent together in Dubai. As much as Armand had tried to accept that it was all in the past, that he would get one last memory of Daniel before he let him go for good, the only thing that all this had revealed was that he still loved Daniel as much as he ever had.

And Daniel hated him. With a visceral disgust that he didn’t fully understand – couldn’t understand because he didn’t remember. But the resentment and the pain was written into his very bones, flowed in the blood that Armand used to savor.

It was too much to bear, especially knowing that he would never be able to make it right. He had made his choice and he would have to live with it – for centuries after Daniel’s bones had crumbled to dust.

Armand had tried to convince Louis to end the interview, send him home, but Louis refused. Now he would have to take control, get it over as quickly as possible and move on.

Honestly, how much more was he expected to suffer?

Beeping of machines, snippets of conversations between nurses, groans of patients. The sounds of the hospital were probably largely tuned out by most people there, but they were deafening to Armand as he walked down the hall to Daniel’s room.

And then, as he got closer, the best and worst sound of all – Daniel’s heartbeat, his breathing, the clunk-clunk-clunk of his heel hitting the frame of the bed he sat on, waiting for his Alice to return.

It had not taxed Armand’s Mind Gift at all to convince her that she had, in fact, already dropped Daniel off at the rehab clinic he had agreed to go to once he got released from the hospital and could go home herself.

This was Armand’s mess to clean up, after all.

He stopped just at the entrance of the room, waiting only a second for Daniel to look up.

“Armand,” he questioned. “What – you’re actually here?”

“Yes.”

“Were you – were you the one who found me? Or did I dream that?”

Armand exhaled slowly. Frankly, he didn’t want to answer, out of fear that the truth would only encourage Daniel to continue to hurt himself for attention or to get Armand to come to him. But it was also hard to ignore the memory of hearing Daniel’s weak call of his name, his erratic and slowing heartbeat, the pool of blood surrounding him and staining the floor.

“Yes, it was me. I brought you to the hospital.”

“So you were…you were still – close, watching. You – ”

“And now, I will take you to the rehab clinic.”

“Oh! Uh, Alice – ”

“Gather your things,” Armand ordered.

He refused to answer any more of Daniel’s questions. In fact, when they got in the car, he immediately made Daniel fall asleep. He woke him again for the admission process and then, courtesy of the Mind Gift again when the employee objected, he accompanied Daniel to his room at the rehab center.

He sat down on the bed next to Daniel, watching him hungrily, trying to get his fill. Daniel barely noticed; he was too busy staring at his hands.

“I’m really going to work at this,” Daniel promised. “For Alice and the baby, for you, for me. I know – I know I lost control. It – ”

“Daniel, look at me.”

The expression on Daniel’s face when he obeyed was distraught but vaguely hopeful. Armand knew he’d be destroying that hope with his next words. He lifted one hand and cupped Daniel’s jaw.

“You don’t know who I am.”

Daniel furrowed his brow in confusion.

“You’ve never met me before. You don’t know who I am.”

“Armand…” His wide eyes, increasing hyperventilation, shaking of his head – all of it revealed his horrified realization.

“Repeat after me.”

“No, no, no, Armand, please,” he begged, crawling onto Armand’s lap and clutching at his face. He attempted to kiss Armand again and again, even as Armand evaded him.

“You’ve never met me before.”

“Armand, don’t do this! I love you!”

“You love Alice and the baby. You will marry her and be happy.”

“Boss, please.”

Daniel was fully sobbing by then, and Armand knew that tears were streaming down his own face as well. He reached out with his other hand, holding Daniel in place with both. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut in the vain hope that a lack of eye contact would protect him.

“Repeat after me,” Armand ordered, enhancing his Mind Gift enough to be irresistible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Daniel choked out against his will.

Each repetition got easier, more rote and emotionless. Once the foundation was laid, Armand put Daniel to sleep so he could get started on the deeper modifications. It would take much more time and effort to alter and erase the last 11, 12 years, but Armand was committed and ready for it.

Chapter Text

The second time Daniel woke up, he was clear-headed. Far preferable than the vomiting and seizing that was his body dying the first time he woke up, not as much fun as the absolute trip that followed. The other thing that was different about this time was that he was in a fucking coffin.

With more than a little panic, he pushed the lid and sighed in relief when it opened easily. Daniel stood and climbed out far more gracefully than he’d been able to get out of bed for the last two decades or so. Absolutely no back pain or pressing bladder either, so he could definitely get used to this.

The gnawing hunger, though, was nearly unbearable.

He looked around. He wasn’t in the penthouse bedroom anymore, and the window ports made it clear that he was on a plane. A luxury private jet, judging by the size of the bedroom the coffin was sitting in.

Curious about what the rest of the plane looked like and where its owner got off to, Daniel exited the room. He didn’t have to go far; just past the bathroom was the main cabin. Armand was sitting in something that resembled an overstuffed lounge chair more than the kinds of seats Daniel was used to in commercial coach.

He knew that even without the ability to read his mind anymore, Armand was aware that Daniel had joined him. A few seconds later, he finally acknowledged him, looking up from his book with a placid smile that reminded Daniel a bit of the Rashid cosplay.

“How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” Daniel joked. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home, my dear child.”

Daniel cringed. “Yeah. Don’t call me that.”

Armand stood, walking towards a bar in the corner even as he threw a look over his shoulder. “Fledgling?”

“How about Daniel?” Or beloved, a tiny part of Daniel begged, the endearment being the last sound of Armand’s voice lingering in his brain. He shook his head to clear it of such foolishness. Louis hadn’t been joking about the mindfuck that was the maker-fledgling bond, apparently.

“If you wish,” Armand acquiesced, handing Daniel a warmed-up blood bag (A-pos, the label helpfully informed him).

Daniel stared at it. It was one thing to have drunk from Armand; blood play was a kink even among humans, after all. But this would be it. This would be the – His hunger easily beat out his existential crisis, and he tore into it with a growl. Daniel gulped greedily, feeling a tiny trail of blood leak out the corner of his mouth and slide down his chin. Armand’s finger scooping it up and sneaking it back into his mouth gave Daniel a different kind of hunger, and he stared at Armand as he sucked on his finger. Armand watched him with lidded eyes, the desire and pride in his expression going straight to Daniel’s cock.

He dropped the empty plastic bag on the ground, and Armand removed his finger.

“I’m still hungry,” Daniel said, almost begging.

“I know. I remember what it was like. I can prepare another bag – ”

“I don’t want that.”

Daniel crowded up against Armand, guiding him back to the seat and crawling onto his lap as soon as he dropped down. Armand hissed as Daniel’s fangs tore into his neck with little finesse and he started grinding on his cock with even less.

“Not too much,” Armand instructed, his fingers digging into Daniel’s hips and pulling him closer.

Later, sated in more ways than one, Daniel sighed. Armand’s fingers grazed lightly as they stroked up and down his back.

“Well, you’ve turned someone after all these centuries,” Daniel observed. “What do you think? Still repulsed?”

Armand tilted his head to press his lips to Daniel’s temple. After a long beat, he finally replied, “I like it well enough, the way you turned out.”

Daniel sighed in contentment. Only a few weeks ago, he and Armand were still carefully circling around their reconciliation and the unspoken issue of the other man. While Daniel still wasn’t fully past it, he also knew he couldn’t give this up. And that night, this meant just being in each other’s company. Daniel was getting over a cold, and while Armand dismissed Daniel’s concerns about contagiousness, he also was adamant that Daniel should take care of himself and make sure to recover fully. It had made Daniel laugh, actually, how serious Armand got about it, and he had to remind the apparently not-quite-convinced man that a lingering cough was not going to kill him.

So, instead, they had a quiet evening. Daniel, fatigued but also tired of sleeping, sat at the end of the new, full-length couch Armand had insisted on buying and squeezing into the studio for just such purposes. Daniel’s book rested on the arm of the couch, and he held it open with one hand. The other hand played with Armand’s curls, in easy reach where Armand rested his head in Daniel’s lap. He wasn’t asleep, Daniel knew from the occasional movements and small noises, but he scolded Daniel about his throat every time he tried to read aloud or talk, so the soft music playing from the record player in the corner was the only sound in the room.

That was, until the sound of Daniel hissing broke the stillness. He stuck his finger in his mouth, wincing as he sucked at the fresh papercut. Damn book.

Armand twisted as he sat up, angling one arm across Daniel’s lap and propping himself up so he could look at him with concern. “Are you hurt?”

Daniel shook his head, pulling the finger out. “Just a papercut – ah, shit, it’s bleeding.”

“Not too much,” Armand murmured, staring at the bead of red blood with…longing? “Just a little bit.”

“I should get a band-aid,” Daniel said, feeling a bit weird about how Armand was acting. “Or tissue, or something.”

He tried to indicate that Armand should let him up, but Armand didn’t move. Daniel’s heart started to beat faster, some strange mix of lust and…fear?...making him feel breathless.

“Armand?”

“Here, let me – ”

Armand took hold of his hand and pulled the finger into his mouth before Daniel could object. He dabbed his tongue against the wound briefly before sucking hard on the finger. It went straight to Daniel’s cock, which stiffened up insanely fast.

“Uh…Boss?” Daniel forgot what he was going to say – if he even really knew to begin with – when Armand bit his finger with teeth that felt way too sharp considering how very familiar Daniel was with the inside of Armand’s mouth. It was like he could feel every beat of his heart in his finger, and he had the strange feeling that Armand’s heart would be beating in a matching rhythm, if he could hear it. “Boss,” Daniel groaned, as his eyes rolled back and his head dropped against the couch.

Armand didn’t respond, unless you counted the moaning and…swallowing? With much effort, Daniel lifted his head and looked at him again. Armand wasn’t just trying to stop the bleeding. He was drinking the blood. Reflexively, Daniel sat up straight and tried to pull his hand away. Armand tightened his grasp on Daniel’s wrist, holding him in place, and Daniel yelped when he felt his finger snag on something sharp again.

“What the – Armand, stop!”

Armand released him and looked up with his big, brown eyes. Except…they weren’t brown. They were an animalistic yellow-orange. Had they always been…? And his teeth – his, his fangs were dripping with Daniel’s blood, staining his lips crimson. Armand looked faintly dazed, intoxicated even.

Daniel gasped as that apartment on Divisadero came back to him – the tape recorder and Louis and the coffin and the biting and – there was something else, something else there, but he couldn’t quite…

“It’s alright. Everything’s fine, beloved,” Armand told him, his voice low and actually sounding as afraid as Daniel felt. “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself better. But you’re fine. I will not harm you.”

What the fuck? “You’re sucking my blood!” Daniel shouted the obvious counterpoint.

Armand surged towards him, not threatening exactly, but Daniel fruitlessly tried to move back anyway. Armand retreated but still tried to hush him.

“You’re a – you’re – you’re – but that was a dream? It was – it was a drug-induced – it didn’t really – vampires aren’t real.”

Armand had no response, and really what could he say to prove the obvious? Daniel breathed in and exhaled sharply.

“Vampires are real?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not – you’re not going to kill me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I – love you.”

“You actually meant it when you said it earlier?”

“Yes, Daniel.”

Daniel focused on his finger, still bleeding noticeably from the extra snag Armand had sliced into it. Armand moved then, and Daniel looked up to watch him puncture the pad of his own thumb, pinching it to bring blood to the surface which he then smeared over Daniel’s wound. It stopped bleeding, healing immediately with no scar left behind. He wondered how many times Armand had fed from him and left no trace.

“Not since the night we slept together,” Armand answered. “Not since I decided to stay.”

Daniel gasped, making eye contact again. “How did you – ”

“I can read your mind, Daniel.”

Daniel tried to remember everything he’d ever thought around Armand. He hoped it hadn’t all been perverted or idiotic, but he wasn’t too optimistic about that. Armand smiled fondly at him.

Why haven’t you drunk my blood since then? he deliberately thought.

“Because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop. You taste too good.”

“What do I taste like?” Daniel asked, blushing with embarrassment. What a strange thing to take as a compliment, really…

Armand smiled softly. “It’s been so long since I’ve properly tasted human food, I don’t know if I could come up with anything to compare it to. Sweet, sort of exotic. What are the most luxurious foods you crave but can never convince yourself to spend money on? You taste like that.”

“Honey and pineapple,” Daniel said immediately, without question.

Armand laughed. “Like that, then.”

Daniel wanted to ask exactly how long it’s been since Armand has tasted human food. But the embarrassment and shock were slipping away and transforming into a curious sort of arousal.

“It felt good,” he observed quietly. “When you were – it felt really good. What if I wanted you to? Just a little bit now and then. I trust you to control yourself.”

“You should not tempt me.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

“You are still ill,” Armand reminded him.

Daniel grinned. “I’m feeling much better.”

The next thing he knew, he was on his back, with Armand nuzzling his throat on the opposite side that Louis had scarred him. In due time after that, Armand was piercing his neck even as he penetrated him down below.

It was starting to get a little bit superlative, defying credulity really, every time he thought this when he and Armand made each other come, but it really was the best sex he ever had.

“Me too,” Armand murmured into his skin as they held each other afterwards.

“I love you,” Daniel replied, breathy and too blissful to realize it was the first time he had said it to Armand, or anyone for that matter, and unable to determine if he actually meant it or if it was the blood loss and orgasm talking. The scary thing was he was pretty sure it wasn’t the latter. He had never felt like this before.

Daniel also definitely felt fuzzier than he normally did, and he smiled up at the ceiling as Armand licked at his neck, probably doing that healing trick again. He couldn’t ask, though, because he was too busy falling asleep.

Fuck, man. Are you the Zodiac killer?

Give it to me.

Armand. From Polynesian Mary’s. I was with Louis.

Do you find me boring?

But I’m not hopeful there’s much more to you, Daniel, other than a hole.

I’ve been calling to you for some time.

Rest.

Daniel thrashed awake, breathing heavily. He was on the bed; Armand must have moved him there at some point, to be more comfortable. It just reminded him of how very strong Armand was – picking the corpse up like it weighed nothing – and Daniel was decidedly not comfortable.

He thought, hoped maybe, that Armand had left and he was alone. But almost immediately, he saw those eyes staring at him through the darkness from near the apartment door. They seemed to be glowing. Daniel got out of bed as quickly as he could, putting as much distance and obstacles between them as he could. He knew it was pointless.

Armand could kill him in a blink of an eye.

“I thought the memories might return to you,” Armand observed flatly.

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” Daniel asked, feeling himself start to hyperventilate. He shook his head, even as his eyes filled with tears.

“Calm down, Daniel.”

If Daniel had been at all willing to give Armand even the slightest credit, he might have been grateful that that was merely a suggestion or request, and not an imperative that he had no choice in following.

“What is this? Are you – I don’t understand. Are you stalking me? What kind of game are you playing?”

“No game. I was hunting and did not even expect to see you at the bar that night. It was…a fortunate coincidence.”

Daniel’s mouth hung open. He struggled to respond or even understand what Armand was saying.

“So you figured you’d seduce me and then what? Play with your food some?”

Armand sighed. “You approached me, Daniel. And I told you earlier, I will not harm you.”

“A bit late for that, pal! You fucking tortured me for a week! You were going to kill me if Louis hadn’t…” Daniel felt like he lost his balance and reached out to steady himself. “Oh, fuck, Louis. Louis is the other – does he know? About…this, about us?”

“No.”

Daniel laughed hysterically. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about him killing me for fucking his boyfriend.”

“Trust me, he would not care,” Armand replied, no emotion in his voice.

“Oh, I’m so damn sorry there’s trouble in paradise, you fucking asshole!”

“Daniel, if we could please – ”

“Let’s see if I have this all straight,” Daniel interrupted. “I got myself caught in the crossfire of the world’s worst lovers’ spat and nearly got eaten. You brainwashed me to forget all of it and dropped me in a drug den. Then, several months later, you randomly happen to be in a bar when I’m looking to get laid. And you…I still don’t get it. Was all this just to get back at Louis? He liked me for some reason, he wouldn’t let you kill me, so you took me for your own?”

A long pause. “Maybe partly, but you must believe – ”

“I can’t believe a single word you say. I can’t trust my own memory, my own brain. I certainly can’t trust you.”

“Is it so hard to believe I fell in love with you?”

Daniel breathed heavily for several long moments, closing his eyes against the pain. Only hours ago, those words had been so welcome. He knew the truth about Armand and he wasn’t afraid, not much anyway. Armand was inhuman and unimaginable and his. But now…

“If that’s even the slightest bit true, you’ll leave me be. Go away and never come back.”

“Danny.” It was the first time during the whole conversation that any sort of real emotion could be heard in Armand’s voice. An excellently timed bit of manipulation, or a façade breaking to reveal the truth? Daniel could not be sure, would never be sure.

“Don’t call me that. Just please. Please.”

Perhaps the only sign that Armand was telling the truth, or what he believed to be the truth, was that after a moment, he nodded, turned, and left the apartment. Daniel shuddered, falling to his knees, trying to hold back the vomit, the scream, and just crumbled in on himself.

But the damage was done. Armand had gotten his claws or his fangs or whatever stuck in Daniel. If he thought their previous separation had been bad, it was nothing compared to this new hell. There were no little signs that Armand was still watching, still trying, not even the occasional shiver up Daniel’s spine that hinted he was being followed. Daniel had never felt withdrawal like this, had never craved a fix so badly. He missed Armand. He missed him.

Was it a death wish? Was he insane? Or could he ignore it all? Accept it, if it meant he wasn’t so goddamned heartbroken? Could he settle for whatever happiness he could steal from the fraction of Armand’s heart and long life he was willing or able to give him? He had never had anything so…terrifyingly beautiful as the last few months with Armand had been. Was having that back worth selling his soul to the devil?

Two months had passed while Daniel struggled with that question. Struggled with the craving, and failed to fill it with any other drugs or liquor he could get his hands on. Struggled with loneliness and longing, even as he found himself in other beds, other arms.

Armand would most likely kill him one way or the other. He may as well enjoy the death when it came.

He sat on the couch Armand had bought him, had fucked – had made love to him on, had held him and allowed himself to be held. And he thought as hard as he could, “I forgive you. Just please come back to me. I need you.”

He waited and waited for some kind of response, for Armand to appear again like he had the last time. At some point, he fell asleep, curled up, tears staining his cheeks. The next morning, when he woke up, nothing seemed all that different in his sad, small apartment.

Except for the pineapple and container of honey sitting on the kitchen counter.

Chapter Text

By that time, Daniel had heard stories of multiple murders committed by the people sitting at the table with him. He had seen pictures of some of them. He was not disillusioned at all about what they were and how much danger he was in even just by being there. But he had never felt so much dread as he did watching Armand feign bashful flirtatiousness as he walked up to Malik.

It grew even worse as Louis described how he would chase Malik, just like who knew how many other young men, throughout the city, then “non-violently” make him beg for death.

That whole scenario combined with the persistent flashes in his memory of Armand talking to him…there was no way he was going to be able to focus on the interview. Without Armand there to manipulate the course of the conversation, now might be the best chance to pull at the thread of the past.

So, they pulled and they pulled, until Louis was crying and Daniel was horrified and sick to his stomach. How could he have forgotten all of this?

Obviously, he knew how. Obviously, Armand had done this. But how could that have been possible? How could such a momentous experience, something that Daniel was beginning to realize shaped his entire adult life, just be…erased?

He sat on the floor, reading from his memoir. It was some comfort to realize that, no actually, it was this. It was Louis that had shaped his adult life. Yes, his marriages had failed. Yes, his children barely spoke to him. But he had stayed a journalist, and more importantly, he had survived. Throughout the years, every time – almost every time – he had wanted to quit (his job or his life), those words had come back to him.

Somewhere behind them, a door closed and the sound of steps came closer. Louis stood and Daniel followed a little more slowly, not quite able to hop up from the floor the way he once was able to.

It was, of course, Armand, wearing Malik’s sunglasses and looking smug as hell. He greeted them with a polite question about the interview. As Louis began to respond, Daniel just stared.

He would not be fooled by Armand again. And even if it killed him, he would get Louis out of this shitshow – and get revenge for himself.

If Daniel found it difficult to take his eyes off Rashid-or-whoever-he-was before, it was nothing compared to the way he tracked his every movement now. Of course, now it wasn’t about checking him out (well…not as much as it had been before), but about figuring out what the hell was going on.

Was it just a dream? Was it just his subconscious playing tricks on him? The memory seemed so clear, everything about that first interaction in the bar with Louis was so…authentic. But if that was the case, then Rashid really had been there. The same age as he was now, only his clothes and hair different with changing styles. The same dismissive attitude that made Daniel want to beg for any scrap of attention.

How could that be, though? He couldn’t be a vampire. His eyes, for one thing. And more importantly, the way his skin seemed to damn near glow while he took a call out on the balcony. The way his hair seemed to shine as it caught the light of the sun. Daniel saw how very quickly Louis had started to sizzle when he just put his arm into a ray. No way could a vampire survive that long of exposure.

There weren’t other mythological creatures he would have to accept as real, were there?

Daniel tore his eyes away to focus back on the person he was supposed to be interviewing.

But everything was going off the rails with that anyway, and soon he was pushing and pushing, trying to get Louis to just admit the truth. That was what he was here for, wasn’t it? To get the real story of Louis’s impossible unlife? Enough was enough.

He followed Louis into the other room, continuing to harangue him even as he toed off his shoes and sat down, sinking his feet into the rocks. Daniel could hear Rashid behind them, trying to interrupt or stop the questioning, but he wasn’t going to stop for love or money, even if Louis actually did promise him double his whore number right then.

“This is the same shit that happened in San Francisco.”

“Not exactly.”

“How is it any different, Louis?”

“This time, I won’t save your life.”

Daniel turned, his stomach dropping with every inch Rashid(??) rose into the air. He was fucking flying.

None of it was making any sense. Not the too old to be affected by the sun explanation. Not the book of…playbills?...dropped at his feet. None of it. And certainly not Louis’s introduction of Armand.

Love of his life?

Bullshit.

Daniel opened the door of his tiny apartment – tinier still than even the one in San Francisco, and ridiculously small when compared to the suite on the island he spent so many hours in, but still all his. The apartment was musty and dusty after sitting empty for so many weeks. He felt happy to be home but also confused, like he had forgotten how to live his normal life.

He dropped his suitcase on the floor, intent on going to sleep and leaving all the unpacking for the next day. Then he flipped a switch to turn on the nearest lamp. There was a pile of mail on the small table by his couch, courtesy of a friend of his who agreed to check in on the place occasionally in exchange for a couple beers and a couple joints when Daniel got back.

Everything else looked in order, so Daniel turned to make sure he had remembered to flip the deadbolt on the door, turned off the lamp again, and made his way through the darkness to the bed. He kicked off his shoes halfway there, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and paused to pull them off. Then he flopped face down on the bed.

“Ah! Dammit!” he shouted in pain as he unexpectedly landed on something hard and sharp. He rolled and sat up, rubbing at his chest as he reached out to turn on the bedside lamp.

Then, he froze. The sharpness had been the edges of the book, his book. There were scraps of paper sticking out, marking every few pages. Daniel picked up the book and began to flip through it. The handwriting was familiar and dear; the comments were as thoughtful and occasionally as critical as Daniel would have expected.

“Welcome home, Daniel. I hope you enjoyed your trip.”

“Jesus fuck!” Daniel shouted, jumping in surprise. He held one hand to his chest. “You can’t do that,” he scolded. “Do you actually want me to have a heart attack?”

Armand paused, clearly listening. “Your heart is functioning very well, although your pulse is understandably rapid.”

“Understandably.”

They stared at each other for several long minutes, and then Daniel broke eye contact to stare at the book in his hands.

“You read it, huh?”

“Of course. You should be quite proud of yourself.”

“Thought maybe I’d see you on the tour. There was a stop in San Francisco.”

“I was not there. Louis and I have moved to New York. He is becoming interested in graffiti, of all things.”

“Right,” Daniel replied succinctly, coldly, feeling dead inside. “Of course, you made the move when he wanted to.”

Armand gave him a soft, indulgent smile, like one someone would give a toddler who was pouting over something childishly unimportant. He began to step closer, unbuttoning his shirt as he moved. The truly annoying thing was Daniel knew he would give in. He even bent his knee to allow room for Armand to sit down across from him.

Armand leaned forward, and Daniel leaned away to the side, avoiding the kiss that didn’t actually come. Instead, Armand pulled open the drawer on the nightstand.

“You forgot to pack something for your trip, Daniel,” he scolded, his tone serious and stern.

Daniel was not all that surprised when he pulled out the blood vial necklace. He couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it after all these years, but he wasn’t about to wear it either, like some sort of Miss Havisham still in her wedding dress.

“It’s a signal to other vamps that I belong to you, you said.”

“Yes.”

“But I don’t, do I? Not anymore. You cast me aside, like you always do when he calls you back.”

Armand’s face turned stony. He grabbed Daniel’s arm and pulled him close, making Daniel gasp in surprised pain and arousal.

“You’ll always belong to me,” Armand declared. “No matter how long it’s been. He has nothing to do with it. The boys you let fuck you, the girls you fuck, they have nothing to do with it. Not even the tall ones with brown skin and curly hair. Alice, was it?”

“You said you weren’t there,” Daniel breathed out.

“You were too enthralled to notice.”

“When I first saw her, I thought she was you. I wanted her to be you.”

“Did you imagine she was, when you were inside her?”

Daniel paused. At the time, he would have said no, that he thought only of her. But in retrospect…

The pause was enough of an answer, and Armand kissed him. Desperately demanding, claiming what was his again.

But it didn’t last. It never lasted. After several weeks of frenzied fucking, of sweet kisses before Daniel left for work and Armand pulled the blackout curtain shut so he could sleep until Daniel came home, of walking the streets of New York at night, talking and talking and talking, telling Armand all about the new story he was working on about the rare cancer affecting gay men, even after night flights to spend a long weekend on the island (their island), it was over. Louis began pulling Armand back again, and there were more and more fights. Daniel asked one too many times for a taste of Armand’s blood, for Armand to drink from him, to give him everything he wanted and just choose him to be the one he spent all his future centuries with. He couldn’t even bring himself to be upset about it, when Armand left again for the last time (until the next time). He knew it was going to happen eventually, just like he knew Armand would be back.

Shortly after that, the local universities were gearing up for the new school year. Daniel came home to a message on his machine.

“Hello, it’s Alice. You still want to buy me that drink, Mr. Molloy?”

It had only been several months, but Daniel’s skills were developing rapidly. He could already kill without spilling a drop, drawing no attention from passersby even when they pulled their prey into alleys off busy streets. He knew all the best ways to get rid of bodies, even pointing out a few things that would raise flags for cops that Armand had not considered after so many years of rare and carefully controlled hunts.

Daniel had the Fire Gift already, although it was still best used for destroying evidence than more precise work. It was harder to train and assess his Mind Gift without being able to access his thoughts, one of Armand’s unspoken regrets about the whole thing, but it seemed to be progressing. And he was pretty sure that Daniel would be able to fly sooner rather than later.

Interestingly, one of the few things Daniel had trouble controlling was his eye color, which he called mood-ring eyes for some reason Armand did not understand. Sometimes they would be his human color, sometimes a sharper, brighter blue-green, or more rarely violet, but the times Armand liked best were when they changed to the bright orange that matched his own. It only ever happened when Daniel was thinking about him, or about sex with him, or best yet, when they were actually having sex. It was a sign of lust, for sure, but Armand wondered if it could also be a sign of…well. Silly, really. He remembered what Daniel was like when he just wanted to fuck him compared to when he loved him. After all this time, after all that had occurred between them, especially the parts that Daniel actually remembered, Armand knew better than to ask for too much.

At least when Daniel looked at him slyly, and his eyes shifted orange, Armand was able to ask for something that was indeed more than just a consolation prize – Daniel inside of him, relentless and demanding, thrust after thrust, bringing pleasure to them both for hours and hours. Daniel loved vampire stamina, even if he didn’t love Armand.

“Some are very old now, most are dead. And some we simply drained for sport. Well…generally me. Louis has his ways.”

Daniel tried his damnedest not to react as they talked about all the young men they used to take home to – what – fuck, then kill?

Of course, he hadn’t really needed that explained to him. He may not remember much of that first interview, but he certainly knew that him surviving it hadn’t been the original plan.

The strangest part, though, was the little tiny sliver of jealousy that returned even stronger when they described their meet-cute. Secret bitterness at an overly romantic story was one thing, though, and easily dismissed as just loneliness or regret in his own life. But why he would be even slightly upset that he wasn’t special, wasn’t the first and only boy brought home for “dinner” was beyond him.

Perhaps that confusion drove him to be a little more sarcastic than strictly necessary when he realized that this little tale they were spinning had turned into the love triangle from hell.

Of course, Armand got his revenge (and Daniel had to suppress another smidgen of jealousy) when he began listing all the members of the coven he had fucked. And Louis got his revenge, digging deep into Daniel’s memories to draw out the details of his first failed proposal to Alice.

Even before the strange memory flash of Armand, Daniel had definitely lost control of the interview.

He couldn’t tell if Armand saying that Alice had wanted to say yes was him twisting the knife in some way or a genuine, if inexplicable, attempt at comfort. Either way, Daniel just wanted to end that session, go hide in his room, and cry.

Chapter Text

For one confused moment, Daniel thought Alice had returned earlier than planned, ready to make up after their spat. It would have been unusually quick, considering she informed him quite clearly that she was going to take the train and spend a couple weeks, maybe even three, exploring the southern part of the country, and that she did not intend to spend her entire French vacation waiting and waiting for him to stop writing and leave the hotel room.

But it only took him a few seconds to realize that the long, lean figure stretched out on the bed when he returned from dinner and a much-needed cigarette break was not his girlfriend but his wayward, occasional…boyfriend? He wondered how Armand would react if he called him that out loud.

“What else would you call me?”

Daniel sighed, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. “I told you I hate when you do that.”

“Read your mind or show up without warning?”

“Both,” Daniel shot back with a little glare. He sat down at the desk, hoping to maintain some sort of dignity before the inevitable relapse.

Armand patted the mattress next to him in invitation, earning a gentle eyeroll from Daniel. When he didn’t move, Armand smiled.

“Come say hello to your boyfriend.”

“Tormentor. Stalker. Pain in my ass.”

“Mmm, if you ask nicely.”

“Jesus. Didn’t even let her side of the bed get cold before you showed up, bringing the innuendo.”

“I think you’ll find it’s my side of the bed.”

“She actually wants to spend all her nights with me, so I think she gets dibs.”

Armand scoffed. “And yet, where is she now?”

“I can drive away a saint, and I can’t hang onto a demon.” Daniel shrugged. “Something poetic about that, I guess.”

That earned an actual laugh from Armand, and like clockwork, Daniel felt his defenses slip. He remembered Armand telling him once how he rarely truly laughed, how Daniel was the only one who had figured out how to get him to do it, how strange and beautiful it was to feel a real smile on his face and hear a genuine response of humor and delight come from his lips after centuries, indeed perhaps for the first time in his long existence.

How was he supposed to resist someone who said shit like that?

Armand tilted his head to the side, admiring Daniel with a softness to his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Danny.”

Daniel exhaled, shook his head, and then propelled himself out of the chair. It took only a step or two to cross the space to the bed, and then he was falling onto it, easily caught by Armand as he had trusted he would be.

They spent the next two hours fucking, and the next two days wrapped up in each other like they always did, at first, when Armand chased him down. The book was forgotten. God help him, Alice and their argument was (mostly) forgotten. Daniel relished in the opportunity to hold Armand’s hand out in public in a flagrant sort of way he never felt comfortable doing so before, not even in San Francisco and New York. He felt freer and safer everywhere they went together – helped in no small part by the blood vial pendant Armand had presented to him with a huff before they finally left the hotel room for the first time – even if Armand seemed to think he actually needed that protection more than ever there.

(You broke into my apartment and brought that all the way here from New York?

How many times do I have to tell you to wear it always? Especially here in Paris. I have less power here. More vampires would challenge me.

Why?

That is not important.

Great, another secret. Fine, I’ll wear it until she gets back.

All the time. Even when you return home.

How am I supposed to explain that to her, boss?

I do not care about her.

Yeah. Well. I do.)

With a creeping sort of dread, though, Daniel knew their time was again running out. For the first time in all their many years, it was because Daniel’s attention, Daniel’s heart was split, was being pulled away. And perhaps for the first time, he had the power. He could tell Armand was increasingly unhappy, jealous even, the closer it got to Alice’s expected return.

But Daniel didn’t want that kind of power, not really. He was more intrigued by what it meant. Maybe Armand was finally learning that Daniel wouldn’t just be at his beck and call all the time, that another person wanted him, chose him, and maybe Daniel would choose her back. Maybe Armand would realize that he didn’t have forever to decide he wanted to keep Daniel forever.

Maybe this time, if Daniel asked, Armand would say yes.

So, that last day before Alice was expected back, when Armand was too exhausted from all the sex – especially the last round, when Armand finally gave in to Daniel’s pleas and let him have a taste of blood - to fight the pull of the sun, Daniel left him asleep on his (Alice’s) side of the bed. He found a small jewelry store that he prayed was in his very limited price range and he went inside.

“Bonjour,” he greeted the man behind the counter.

“Good morning, sir,” came the reply. Daniel’s French was terrible and he was always clocked instantly. “How may I help you?”

Daniel stepped closer, sparing half a glance at the sparkly items beneath the glass counter. No price tags. Shit.

“I’m looking for a ring,” he said. “For – well, I guess I’m going to propose.”

“Ah, lovely. We have several excellent diamonds – ”

Daniel pulled at the chain around his neck and removed the pendant, effectively cutting off the sales pitch. He placed the pendant on the counter gently. “I’m looking for something that will match this style. It’s – well, it’s a meaningful necklace for us, you know, so – ”

The jeweler bent closer, peering at with curiosity. “May I?” he asked, his hand just hovering above it. At Daniel’s nod, he carefully picked up the pendant to investigate it closer. “This is very beautiful work. And authentic too, it would seem. Rare to find something this old in such good condition. You’ve cared for it beautifully.”

Daniel shrugged, thinking that obviously had mostly to do with Armand and then just a little bit to do with Daniel petulantly hiding it in the back of his drawer half the time.

The salesman showed him a few items, but nothing that really worked with what Daniel was looking for. Armed with a few suggestions of other stores, Daniel headed out. It took him the rest of the day to find something perfect in a small secondhand shop off the beaten track. It was clearly nowhere near the same age or level of quality as the necklace, but it looked similar enough in spirit, so at least Armand would know what he was going for – something that showed the world he belonged to Daniel as much as Daniel belonged to him.

The sun was still barely out, but it was late enough that Daniel wasn’t particularly surprised, as he crossed the street towards the Metro stop, to feel the strange sensation he knew was Armand, now awake, searching for him. He thought as hard as he could about a small café near Rue Servandoni that he and Alice had found their first week there. She had loved it, and Daniel tried not to feel too guilty about that or her.

He lucked out with timing and a train was arriving just as he made it to the track. He hopped on perhaps a little too cavalierly, double checking with a stranger, using his he-hoped-charming-enough mix of English and French, that it was headed where he wanted. He also lucked out that the train car was surprisingly empty. Daniel looked around to make sure no one was watching him, and then he pulled a safety pin from his pocket that he had brought along for just this purpose.

He winced at the poke on his thumb, and then pressed down on the flesh to get a bead of blood to appear. He smeared it around the band of the ring, wiping at it over and over again until there was no trace left of the blood itself. But he knew Armand would know it was there. And he would replenish it as often as he needed to. With a small grin, Daniel stuck his thumb in his mouth and pressed his tongue against the small wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Armand was waiting for him, already seated at a table for two outside on the street. Two glasses of wine – ostensibly one for each of them, but Daniel knew he would end up drinking both and Armand would share the buzz indirectly later - and some kind of hors d'oeuvre waited on the table.

“Hey!” he called out, speeding up the last few steps.

Armand stood, greeted him with a kiss to each cheek, the second one lingering a bit. They both sat, and Daniel drank half the glass of wine in front of him in one go, trying to calm his nerves. His confidence was waning, to be honest – yes, Armand had followed him all the way to Europe, Paris in particular, even though he had once said he had no intention of ever going back there. Yes, Armand was blatantly jealous of Alice. Yes, Armand loved him, Daniel knew that. But…

It didn’t matter. He had to ask. He had to know.

Armand was in the middle of telling him about something cute that he saw two little French kids doing on the way to the café when Daniel interrupted him.

“Sorry, I – ”

Armand paused. “Daniel?”

“I do want to hear it, I promise. I actually find it adorable how much you like kids. I just – fuck.”

Armand leaned forward, brushed his fingers along the back of Daniel’s shaking hand in concern. Daniel pulled it away, reached out to grab his glass and drank the rest of the wine down with a grimace.

“It’s perhaps a little ironic that I don’t have the words for this. Me! Maybe I should have planned this better. But…” Daniel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, staring at his hands because he couldn’t bring himself to look Armand in the eye. “But do we even need words, after all this time? You know how I feel. You know what I want, what I’ve always wanted. It could – it could be like this forever, Armand, if you just let it.”

Daniel leaned back so he could stick his hand into his pocket. He pulled out the box, opened it, and put it on the table facing Armand. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he felt like he was going to pass out.

“Will you spend the rest of your afterlife with me?”

He finally looked up, only to see Armand staring at the ring. Daniel couldn’t read his expression but with each beat of silence, his despair grew. Daniel swallowed thickly, slowly pulling his hand off the table and down into his lap where he could wring his hands together.

Armand looked at him then, a distant, sad sort of look in his eye.

“No.”

The next moment was incredibly disorienting, and Daniel blinked several times, feeling like he was coming back to awareness after some unknown duration of nothingness. Everyone else around him continued on with their activities, apparently unaware of anything unusual. There was cash for the bill on the table next to the ring but no sign at all of the gorgeous young man who had been sitting across from Daniel.

Daniel still felt like he was in some sort of haze or trance as he returned to the terribly empty hotel room. He just pulled off his clothes, climbed straight into the bed that he and Armand had shared for days now, pulled Armand’s pillow close, and – rather shamefully – sobbed himself to sleep.

It was Alice who woke him up the next afternoon, asking if he were ill or hungover. Daniel forced himself to be happy to see her, to kiss her and play his part in the apologies and making up. He struggled the rest of the day – wanting to fully commit to her, finally accepting that his secret, stupid hopes would never come true; wanting to be honest with her, let her go now before he destroyed her trying to love her in the way she deserved even though some dark, twisted part of his heart would always belong to a monster.

There was no easy answer, so he just followed her lead, doing what she wanted to do and pretending his depressed distraction was due to missing her, to not meeting his writing deadlines, to anything and everything other than what it was really caused by.

When evening rolled around, he followed her lead again as they headed out, only realizing when it was too late that she had chosen the same café. The knowing look the waiter gave him indicated he recognized him from his previous night’s date, but there were thankfully no pointed comments.

There was no conversation at all, in fact, for several minutes after they ordered. And then…

“Daniel, I know we didn’t handle things particularly well before I left, but we need to get better at that. We need to be more mature about things going forward.”

“I know, hon,” Daniel said, leaning forward and forcing himself to focus. “I promise to be more attentive. The book – ”

“I don’t want to talk about the book.”

“I know, I know.”

“Daniel, I’m pregnant.”

He blinked. Stared. Forgot how to breathe.

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

“What are you doing, Dad?”

Daniel started, just barely catching himself from whipping around hazardously. Instead, he slowly turned, making sure he did not bump his head on anything or put his weight anywhere he shouldn’t. He didn’t really trust this “attic” crawlspace, even if several boxes were up there gathering dust without falling through to the office-slash-guest-bedroom below.

Finally, he was facing the small square entrance. The kiddo’s head was poking through it, and there was no way she’d be tall enough to do so unless she were…

“Careful, honey! Get down off that stool. It’s not very stable.”

She rolled her eyes in that way only a pre-teen can truly do, but her head disappeared, so Daniel counted it as a win.

“What are you doing?” she asked again, her voice floating up to him.

At that moment, Daniel finally found the box that he was pretty sure contained the items he was looking for. He slid it towards the entry, cringing at the scraping sound the action made. He didn’t answer until he lowered himself through the hole, carefully transferred his weight to the stool, reached out to pull the box through as well, and finally climbed down to solid ground.

“Your stepmom wanted me to find some of your baby stuff for your sister.”

“Half-sister,” she mumbled mutinously.

Daniel sighed, unsure how to acknowledge that comment or if he was even up for the confrontation. He was running on limited fuel between the new baby, the new book, and his daughter’s four-full-weeks-in-the-summer all coming at the same time. But he also knew he should nip this sibling rivalry in the bud.

“Want to go through the box and help me pick out stuff for her? It’ll be fun to remember how tiny and perfect you once were, before you grew up into a menace.”

She shrugged, but Daniel saw the small smile on her face. He hefted the box under one arm and put his other hand on her shoulder, then led her over to the desk.

It ended up being fun. Tiny little clothes, a couple stuffed animals, disgusting old pacifiers that Daniel would be throwing away, a little baggie containing a lock of smooth curly black hair, just like her mother’s, and absolutely nothing like Daniel’s second wife and new baby. The stark contrast in appearance may in fact have been part of the appeal, not that Daniel was admitting to anything. Of course, it could also be part of the reason that the new baby probably wasn’t going to save the marriage in the end, even though that had been part of the reasoning for having her. Daniel could barely look at Alice sometimes, when they traded their daughter back and forth, and he could barely drag his eyes away at other times. That skin, that hair, those eyes – she would always be the most dangerously beautiful person he ever knew.

“What’s this?” The question distracted Daniel from his very unproductive thoughts.

She held up a necklace of some kind that clearly had ended up in the box by mistake. No baby would ever be wearing it. Daniel took it from her, trying to recognize or remember it. It was very strange-looking – a long chain, an ornate vial pendant with some kind of dark brownish-red stains on the glass.

“Could be your mother’s…”

“Mom would never wear something like that,” she correctly observed.

Daniel shrugged. “Don’t know where that came from. I’ll toss it out later.”

He put it on his desk, off to the side. But over the next several days, no matter how many times he saw and remembered it, he never did get around to chucking it. It just seemed to slip his mind or didn’t seem important or some…other thing captured his attention. At some point, it must have got mixed up with some papers and ended up in a drawer or file or somewhere and it slipped his mind again completely.

Two weeks after they got back to New York, the same day Daniel saw what an OB-GYN office looked like for the first time, hours after he left a still-annoyed Alice at her place and swung by some bars and some friends’ places, he was alone in his apartment. He snorted up three or four lines of powder, drank a couple shots, and was now chain-smoking.

It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.

Daniel stood abruptly, knocking over the chair as he rounded the table. His suitcase was still only half-unpacked, as he’d been pulling things from it as he needed them. He dug around a bit, then pulled the necklace loose from where it was wrapped around a pair of socks.

He twisted the cap of the vial as hard as he could but the fucking thing would not open. It was sealed shut with vampire strength or some such nonsense. He pounded it against the table, merely slamming his fingers instead. He threw it at the wall, but it simply fell to the ground with no effect.

Just a sip. He just needed a taste. If he couldn’t have Armand, he could at least have that.

With a frustrated sob, Daniel tripped his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a knife. Maybe – maybe he would come back, maybe he would realize Daniel was serious about not wanting to live without him, maybe he would give Daniel some blood to heal him, maybe Armand would finish the job and then give him enough blood to turn him, maybe he would take him out of his misery.

He sliced down before he could think of it anymore. He shouted out in surprised pain, the knife clattering to the floor as he dropped to his knees.

“Fuck,” he observed in dumb surprise. The blood was flowing faster than he expected, and he thought it was probably not actually a good thing that he didn’t even really feel it anymore. His vision seemed to be going in and out. “Fuck,” he whispered.

Daniel collapsed the rest of the way, curling up on the floor of the kitchen, his hand ineffectively wrapped around his wrist. “Armand,” he managed to say.

He didn’t know if it was his imagination, or a dying hallucination, when the door to his apartment banged open just as everything went dark.

What is your professional opinion?

To his credit, Fareed gave no indication that he was having a separate conversation mentally with Armand than he was having out loud with Louis and Daniel. Of course, Armand had done sufficient research on Daniel’s…ailment to know that all this was not standard, but Fareed was still the best (not to mention, most discreet) doctor they knew.

Which is why the answer was disappointing.

He is in excellent health for a 70-year-old former addict with Parkinson’s disease.

Armand tried not to sigh. Neither one looked at each other as they sat out of direct view of the other two.

And…your prognosis?

Fareed didn’t reply for a long time. He is mortal, Armand. Whether it’s a few months or a few years, there is only one prognosis. I cannot change that.

Another long pause.

You could, though, of course.

Armand was saved from replying by Louis’s request to play…that song. The amount of restraint Armand showed by complying was admirable, if he did say so himself. He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed by Louis’s recounting of the apology gift and his own response to it – swimming across Lake Pontchartrain to fuck the bastard, for crying out loud, or by the degraded sound of that voice that Armand hated as much as he adored.

Or perhaps just by the song itself.

What a terrible song, Fareed observed, clearly concurring.

At any rate, Armand was still irritated when he went back into the room later that night. Daniel was exhausted, clearly affected by the treatment. Armand wanted to…do something for him, but he had a part to play and the show must go on.

“I’d give it to you now.”

Armand stared at Louis, trying to control the outrage he felt. Of all days…after what he had put Armand through… He attempted to project some sort of warning at Louis, but suspected it was just incoherent mental static.

His heartbreak was complete when Daniel gave him a scathingly dismissive look and called him a whore.

Louis thankfully excused him but not without a final observation.

He is just jealous, my love. I know you are closing your mind off to him to play human servant, but you should have seen the dream he had about you the other day. Wouldn’t mind recreating it actually.

It was cold comfort and not at all credible, considering Louis hadn’t fucked him in years.

He didn’t think anything of it at first. The minor symptoms could be explained away by any number of things. He was getting old. He didn’t exactly treat his body like a temple throughout his life.

But stiffness and trouble sleeping led to a slight tremor in his hand, difficulty swallowing, an unexpected fall that was more than clumsiness.

That led to a doctor’s appointment, tests, tests, and more tests. And a diagnosis.

The doc said it could be years before it progressed to more advanced symptoms. That with treatment, he’d have a normal life expectancy.

Since Daniel had outlived his own expectations by more than a couple decades, that was not much comfort.

He called one daughter and then the other, he even called Alice. None of them answered.

And he began to wonder, would this be it? His career was already in the shitter. What else was there to look forward to? What else was there to accomplish? Why should he wait for the end to come slowly and terribly?

Out of nowhere, he had vague recollections of some desire to live forever, back when he was a bright young reporter with a point of view, as if that were ever an option. But even as unrealistically silly as the idea was, the memory helped him realize that he did still want to live.

“He had never made one.”

“What?”

Armand looked off to the side, resenting the whole conversation. He had hoped that the one silver lining of wiping Daniel’s memory was that he would never have to discuss this topic with him again.

“The idea repulsed me – repulses me.”

Armand refused to wonder why he had first spoken in the past tense.

Daniel panted, one arm wrapped tightly around Armand’s neck and shoulders, the other bracing against the kitchen cupboard to the side of him. He was half hanging off the counter, half being held up by Armand as he thrust up into Daniel again and again and again. The speed and force behind his movements were deliciously brutal, now that he didn’t have to hold back as much – although he warned Daniel that, since he was human, he still couldn’t take Armand’s full strength. Daniel moaned, burying his face against Armand, thrilling at the feel of Armand’s skin warming up bit by bit. They had an agreement that Armand would always feed before coming to see him, to avoid the risk of hunger overpowering his restraint, but on special occasions, he would hold off, let Daniel be the one to provide for his needs instead. The buzz, the erotic high of being drained was almost unbearable, and he knew that sometimes – based on how attentive and apologetic Armand was after and how unsteady on his feet Daniel was – they cut things too close. But God, it was worth it. The passion, the frenzy, the pain-pleasure of it all.

Armand’s skin was sticky and sweet, remnants of the honey Daniel had licked off him still clinging in some places. He wondered if Armand could taste it through his blood, if it brought back some distant memory of his human life. As soon as Armand licked closed the bite marks just above the chain of the necklace Daniel always wore now, just as he had been commanded, Daniel twisted, seeking out Armand’s mouth to ensnare it with his own. The blood still coating his tongue and teeth tasted like metal, and Daniel pulled away again.

“Let me taste your blood,” he begged spontaneously. It was not something he had asked for before, or even thought to, but once it was said, he wanted it desperately.

Armand pulled back, despite Daniel’s noise of protest, to look him in the eye. After a moment, he lifted a hand to his chest and used one sharp fingernail to slice a small cut just over his collarbone. Daniel’s eyes were immediately drawn to the line of red that appeared, almost like a hunting dog waiting for the command to chase after the prey. He licked his lips and breathed heavily. Armand moved his hand away and Daniel latched on.

It was…it was…there were no words. With a groan, Daniel began rocking his hips again. Armand took the hint, nearly tossing Daniel’s body around as they sought their climaxes. Daniel sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, only finally letting up when he needed to shout out as he came, as Armand shot off inside him. But as soon as he could, he tried to lean in again, only for Armand to stop him.

“Enough, you’ll be sick.”

Daniel whined in protest, straining to get to the trail of blood trickling down Armand’s chest.

“Beloved, stop.”

It was like he was a puppet whose strings had been cut, all strength in his body leaving him, his limbs hanging uselessly as he collapsed against Armand. Armand lifted him, carried him to the bed, and if Daniel had two brain cells left to rub together after all that, he might be afraid or angry about the way Armand had commandeered his body again. Instead, as Armand lowered him down and propped himself up just inches away, Daniel simply stared up into his shiny, predator eyes and sighed.

I’ll never be able to get enough of you, he thought. I’ll always want more.

Armand smiled softly, leaned down, and captured Daniel in a deep, heady kiss.

Chapter Text

Armand strolled down the street slowly, enjoying the crisp night air. He had consumed a very satisfactory dinner – a thrice-arrested, never-convicted-due-to-jury-tampering sex trafficker – and topped it off with dessert from a recently docked cruise ship. He knew he should head back to the house he was currently living in with Louis but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so just yet. They’d had an argument before he left, something about Armand’s feeding or a painting or something that did not, of course, matter, because it wasn’t what they were really fighting about. The words, the names, had not been spoken since that awful day in San Francisco, but they were still there, underlying every argument they ever had.

Armand sighed, trying not to remember San Francisco and everything that it represented. But it was difficult, considering the book he held in his hand. When he’d seen the pile of books in the window, it hadn’t taken much effort at all to snap the lock of the store door, business hours be damned. Most of the upright copies faced out, but the occasional one had the back cover pointed to the window.

Daniel’s eyes staring at him from the author picture, a not-quite smile hinting at his lips. Older now, but still always as gorgeous. Lives in New York with his wife and two daughters, the blurb said, truthful in spirit if not technicality, as one daughter was nearly out of the house she only ever spent half her time in anyway.

A different wife, also, he knew from the last time he surreptitiously checked in on Daniel. Not the one that looked like Armand. Not the one that he had given Daniel to. But one he hoped made Daniel happy nonetheless. He had also seen the two girls in a park one evening a year or so ago – distinctly opposite appearances and a substantial age difference between them, but both full of life and joy as they ran around, playing and shouting.

He would read this book in secret, like all the other articles and writings Daniel had produced over the years. All had been pored over and caressed and annotated for debates that would never be held, praise that would never be given. All had been filed away and hidden within the Théâtre des Vampires archives that Louis never touched.

Look, one of the benefits of age and experience was that Daniel had come to terms a long time ago with his kinks. Maybe he wasn’t about to admit to all them out loud, not even to a vamp who could read his mind, but yeah. The pleasure rush that came with pain? A touch of exhibitionism? A stretched-long neck of a beautiful young man? Flirtation with death? Each of those would turn Daniel’s crank by themselves. Combine them all, and he was hard as a rock under that table while Louis sucked off Rashid (not in the more fun way). He didn’t know if he wanted to be the one offering himself up, or if he wanted to be the one doing the drinking, but either one seemed like a hell of a good time.

He tried to focus on – or at least to distract himself with – the last words of Claudia’s victims but it didn’t help.

He tried to tell himself it was the whole vampire thing that was getting to him. That even though he didn’t look it, Louis was older than Daniel himself and obviously more powerful and that would turn anyone on.

But it was Rashid he couldn’t take his eyes off. Because – at least until Louis started to put him into his place – it was clear that Rashid was actually in control of the whole…scene.

And that became apparent again later, after Louis had punished Daniel for his impertinence and Daniel had slapped him in turn. Rashid had come into the room, stopping them both and speaking for Louis.

It was…curious

And hot.

All of it stayed in his head long after things calmed down and they ended for the day. Daniel was still keyed up when he climbed into bed. He had enough control not to touch himself over it, even though his earlier erection came back as he remembered the little moans and slurps while Louis fed, and the way Rashid’s fingers had dug into Louis’s shoulder to restrain him.

But he still thought about it until he finally fell asleep.

And he was hard again, sometime later, when he jolted awake. He could barely see an inch in front of him, thanks to the blackout window screens that made the late afternoon feel like the dead of night. At first, he thought it was the Groan, or the air conditioning kicking in, that had woken him, but then he felt more than saw another person in the room.

“What the fuck?” he said, trying to sit and reach out for the lamp.

“Shh shh shh.” A hand on his chest pushing him back down, one knee and then another sinking onto the mattress as the newcomer straddled Daniel and lowered himself onto Daniel’s lap. “It’s OK.”

Daniel full-body-shivered. “Rashid? What the – ”

“It’s OK, Mr. Molloy. I want this and I know you do too. I know it’s all you’ve been thinking about. For days.”

Unerringly, as if he could easily see through the darkness, Rashid’s fingers – still covered in those ridiculously kinky gloves - hooked around the waistband of Daniel’s boxers, pulled the edge down until his cock sprung out.

Daniel reached out, knowing he should push him away, wanting to pull him closer. His hands hooked around Rashid’s naked thighs, which made up his mind for him. Or perhaps emptied his mind, leaving nothing but lust. He slid his hands up, the hairs on Rashid’s skin getting coarser and curlier as he got closer to – shit. Shit, he was hard and dripping already. Despite the urge to wrap his hands around Rashid’s cock, he continued to reach around to his ass. He pulled Rashid closer, damn near yanked him down, until they were rubbing against each other.

“Oh, Mr. Molloy,” Rashid moaned, his hips rotating in a sinful sort of pattern on top of Daniel’s with just slightly too much force and friction, and not nearly enough slide to – well, Daniel did like the pleasure rush that came with pain, after all.

“God. God.” Louder than it probably should have been.

“Hush,” Rashid scolded, a laugh hiding under the reprimand. “We don’t want to wake him.”

A touch of exhibitionism.

Daniel wanted to see him. He reached out again, straining for the bedside lamp and flicking it on just as Rashid realized what he was doing and said no.

Too late, thank God, because the sight was better than any possible imagination. Naked from the waist down, that black V-neck hanging off one shoulder. The cloud of curls on his head in total, sexy disarray. A perfect cock jutting up and slightly curved, beads of fluid at the tip.

“Jesus…” Daniel breathed out.

“Rashid,” he corrected, smiling as he bent down and kissed Daniel with exactly the right amount of tongue to make Daniel whine.

Without breaking away, Rashid reached down blindly, found Daniel’s cock again, and contorted his own body enough to slip it into his – for fuck’s sake – already slicked up and stretched out hole. Daniel whimpered, thrusting up in a jerky, involuntary way.

This wasn’t so much flirtation with death as it was just asking for a heart attack. But what a way to go.

Rashid broke the kiss, laughing at something or maybe nothing, as he arched up and reached out to grip the headboard. He moved faster and faster on top of Daniel, who wasn’t quite sure which one of them was hanging on for the ride at this point. Fuck. Fuck. He looked up at Rashid, trying to commit everything to memory – the long lashes of his closed eyes, the stretch of his long neck with no bitemark in sight, the hint of pointy white teeth behind his half-smile. Beautiful, he was so beautiful. And he felt so –

“Feels so good,” Rashid murmured. “Dan – Mr. Molloy.”

“Can’t – I can’t – I’m gonna – ”

Despite or because of the warning, Rashid sped up, bringing his other arm up to grip the headboard with both gloved hands, hidden muscles bulging underneath that stupid shirt. The mattress creaked, and their panting moans filled the room, and everything seemed kind of shiny and unreal. Rashid shouted as he came, splashing onto Daniel’s shirt and squeezing rhythmically around Daniel’s cock.

Daniel threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, one calf muscle cramping painfully as his toes curled. He shot out his release up into Rashid, nearly sobbing with the ecstasy of it. The whole world seemed to stop.

Daniel sat up abruptly, breathing heavily. He looked blindly around the darkened room. Every part of his body was sore, and his brain felt fuzzy. He nearly fell to the side, fumbling around until he found the switch for the bedside lamp.

His boxers were pulled down around his thighs, flaccid cock hanging out. There was semen on his t-shirt.

“Fuck,” he observed, falling back onto the mattress with his hands over his face.

He kind of thought he had outgrown wet dreams.

Armand couldn’t help himself. He happened to be in New York alone, arranging a purchase of one of Marius’s paintings, when the Pulitzer recipients were announced, and it hardly stressed his Mind Gift to be allowed entry without an invitation to the party thrown by Daniel’s editors. The first time Daniel had won, Louis had pointedly printed out the news article and left it on the coffee table for Armand to see. For a moment, Armand wondered if Louis had finally figured it out or maybe even remembered, but he said nothing else so they both let it drop. This time, Louis hadn’t commented at all, at least not yet. They had not exactly been checking in every evening, however. Louis did not approve of Armand’s desire to seek out the paintings and so had been disappointed when Armand left on the errand.

Of course, he assumed it was because Armand, like Louis himself did and refused to admit, longed for his maker, no matter how poorly he had treated his fledgling. But it wasn’t really that, or at least not entirely. There was also the element of Armand having the old paintings of himself in his own possession. He didn’t have a say in how his body had been used by artist after artist. He could at least have a say in what happened to those images now.

Most of them he burned.

But the painting was the last thing on Armand’s mind when he saw Daniel again. He was a work of art himself, despite the rented tuxedo not hanging quite right on his frame. He had filled out some since Armand had last glimpsed him, and he was aging nicely as his 60s came onto the horizon. The salt and pepper hair was particularly alluring.

Armand couldn’t help himself. He had fully intended to just watch from afar as Daniel celebrated his success, but… that grin. That sparkle in his eye. The way he gestured with one hand while the other held a flute of champagne. The fact that he appeared to be alone, no date, no daughter, nothing. It was unimaginable that the guest of honor should go home alone.

Armand couldn’t help himself.

He stared at Daniel – brilliant, two-times-Pulitzer-winning, bright young reporter, that he was – and before he even really knew he was going to do it, he nudged Daniel ever so slightly to look his way.

Armand’s tux fit him perfectly, and his hair was impeccably coiffed, and he made sure to hold eye contact just as he lifted his glass to pretend to sip the champagne. It was almost too easy.

Damn, Daniel’s thoughts were deafeningly loud to Armand, even amidst all the other noises of the crowd. I’d give up the Pulitzer if I could get him inside me instead.

Armand blinked slowly, allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch up, and then walked towards a quieter corner of the room, near the exit. His whole body ached and tingled in anticipation as he thought Vien a moi.

And then only moments later… “Hey there, not sure we’ve met. Did my editor invite you?”

Armand turned to face him and smiled. “Ah, Mr. Molloy. No. I am merely a fan of your writing and managed to get an invite through some business connections.”

“A fan. Oh no. You must be disappointed.”

“Not at all. You are…everything I hoped you would be. Congratulations on the Pulitzer. You must be very proud.”

“Eh, it’s old hat by now.”

Armand smiled at the cockiness and the segue Daniel intended to use along with it. He beat him to the suggestion.

“Probably ready to leave this party then.”

“More than.”

Armand bit his lower lip in a way that could hardly be misconstrued. The way Daniel stared at his mouth confirmed that he had seen and understood it.

“Lead the way,” Armand murmured.

Rather presciently, Daniel’s editors had reserved him a suite in the very same hotel as the party, although they probably had not foreseen him ditching the event in order to be fucked by a man half his age. Nonetheless, after a remarkable display of restraint in the elevator, they were kissing far too deeply just outside the room door for Daniel to unlock it. Finally, Armand took the card from him, blindly holding it to the sensor. At the same time, Daniel groped behind him and found the handle. They stumbled into the room, letting the door slam shut as soon as they cleared it.

Armand spared half a glance to locate the bed and then pushed Daniel towards it.

“Jesus Christ,” Daniel muttered as his legs hit the mattress and he sat down. He reached out immediately for Armand, who pulled Daniel higher up onto the bed before indulgently lowering himself on top of him. “Things like this don’t happen to me anymore. Certainly not with guys like you.”

Armand circled his hips, grinding his erection against Daniel’s and making them both moan. “Feels real to me,” he whispered in Daniel’s ear.

“Please tell me you have a condom.” I sure as hell didn’t think I’d need one, Daniel’s inner voice added.

Armand sat up, continuing to circle his hips even as he reached for the buttons of Daniel’s shirt. “Yes,” he replied. “Lube too.”

Maybe he wasn’t entirely honest with himself when he claimed this was unplanned.

“Thank God.”

“Let’s get you undressed and slicked up so I can fuck you.”

Daniel groaned, tilting his head back against the pillow and seemingly hanging onto his control with the greatest of effort. “That’s how you wanna do this?” he finally asked.

“Mmm,” Armand confirmed, licking a broad stripe along Daniel’s jaw before kissing him deeply.

“Here I figured this was some daddy kink for you,” Daniel countered, half-joking and half-deprecating, when they separated. “And you’d want to be disciplined or some shit.”

“Trust me, my father is much older than you,” Armand teased, even if he was the only one who fully understood the joke. “Besides, when I first saw you, I could almost hear you thinking that the only thing better than the Pulitzer would be if I railed you.”

Daniel barked a laugh. “Almost verbatim, babe.”

It probably would be hard to explain why the term of endearment made Armand tear up, so he broke away to dig the supplies out of his jacket pocket. Things happened quickly after that - the rest of their clothes came off, and Armand prepared Daniel until his nearly incoherent begging was louder than the squelching of the lube.

Armand slid into him like he was coming home. Despite the teasing about railing, he took it slow and sweet, running his hand up and down Daniel’s side. He kissed every bit of his face and throat he could reach, and he luxuriated in the sound, the smell of his beautiful boy. Daniel’s hands came up to scrunch in Armand’s curls and scratch his scalp.

God, I’ve missed making love like this.

Armand moaned as Daniel’s thoughts seeped between them.

“I’ve missed you too, beloved,” he whispered into Daniel’s neck.

“What?” Daniel asked, stopping his movements and making Armand whine in protest. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Armand shook his head, tried to get things back on track, but Daniel pushed him up and away.

“Am I standing in for someone here or something?” he demanded.

“No, Daniel, no.” Armand looked at him imploringly and said, more desperately and perhaps even more sincerely than the last time he had confessed the sentiment, “I want you more than anything in the world.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Daniel merely ordered, “prove it.”

Armand didn’t drop the eye contact as he began moving faster and harder, determined that Daniel would believe him. Soon enough, Daniel was fully back in action, hitching his legs up and around Armand in a way that seemed far too flexible for his age. He scratched his nails down Armand’s back until they reached his ass, and then he pulled Armand closer, deeper, his fingers slipping between Armand’s cheeks and teasing at his hole.

Armand broke eye contact and buried his head in the dark groove of the pillow. The pleasure was too great. Armand couldn’t help himself. His fangs were out and piercing Daniel’s neck before he even realized what was happening. With the first pulses of blood on Armand’s tongue, so many memories came back to him, all the fluids of Daniel’s he had tasted in the past, all the times they had brought each other such fulfillment. The rush of recollection was so overwhelming, it felt like he couldn’t contain it all and it exuded out of him.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck, Armand.” Daniel unexpectedly grunted. “It’s you. It’s you.”

Armand fumbled in his movements, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated even as he tried not to come from the sound of surprised, yet overjoyed recognition in Daniel’s voice.

“Don’t stop, boss,” Daniel said then. The plea helped Armand find his rhythm again, and all sentiment and sensuality was lost in favor of rocking together. Armand drank again from the wound on Daniel’s neck, rapturously, blissfully. With a shout, Daniel came, coaxing Armand’s climax out of him as well.

They slowly calmed. Armand lapped little kitten licks on Daniel’s neck until the wound closed without any change to his existing scar. In return, Daniel stroked his hands up and down Armand’s back in soothing caresses.

When Armand shifted and slipped out of Daniel’s ass, reality struck, and he tensed.

“We’ll talk about in the morning,” Daniel whispered. “We can figure it all out then. I’m not mad, I’m not upset. I just am glad you’re here.

Armand shuddered with emotion he couldn’t quite express. “Daniel,” he whispered.

“Just hold me now,” Daniel replied.

Armand hugged him tightly all night long. When the first rays of sunlight began to fill the room, he finally sat up and stared down at Daniel’s sleeping face. He placed one hand against his cheek with all the tenderness he felt and could never show again. And then he began to pull apart the memories again, building the walls up even stronger than the previous ones that had failed. Daniel wouldn’t recall anything when he woke up besides the ego boost of sleeping with an attractive man half his age who didn’t even tell him his name.

“I could not prevent it. I could not prevent it.”

Bullshit, Daniel thought.

Chapter Text

This was just fucking unfair.

First, he had to put up with a…spy?…during his much-needed break away from the penthouse.

And now, Armand.

Daniel tried to be his usual sarcastic self, intending to not let anything like the crap from the last session happen again. But it looked like Armand was going to give him all sorts of new crap.

A purple shirt the exact same shade as that dress of Alice’s that Daniel was forced to remember the previous night. The perfect host offering apologies and smiles, even as he evaded Daniel’s questions. Smug little answers with tiny little smiles, as if he were hoping Daniel would get some secret, shared joke.

And then he began to actually talk, and it got even worse. Because of course it was all about Lestat de fucking Lioncourt.

Daniel really had to meet this guy. Maybe then he would understand why every single vamp was apparently so dickmatized by him.

Because Armand was, wasn’t he? The wistful look on his face as he described, in far too much detail for Daniel’s tastes, the way they drank from each other. Daniel swallowed as the story continued, leading up to the inevitable outcome of sex.

Theater box sex.

Daniel did his very best to focus on the story and not on Armand’s mouth as he trailed off.

A beat.

Daniel inhaled. “That’s it?”

Daniel might be a vampire, but he was also forever-69 years old, and the idea of following Lestat around on his tour to do an interview (or as he insisted on calling it, a rockumentary. How come no one, during all their gushing, told him Lestat was such a dork?) did not sound entirely appealing to him.

He especially didn’t want to be there if Louis was planning on tagging along to at least some cities with his stupid camera and their stupid pining. Why they weren’t fucking again, already, Daniel truly did not know.

But you know what? Even though Armand had hated the idea of Daniel writing the book, the publicity tour where Daniel told every single audience member that it was non-fiction hadn’t pissed his maker off enough to get him out of hiding.

Maybe Daniel playing groupie would do it.

It was a bright sunny afternoon. Armand stood under both an umbrella and the branches of a tree in the small park across from the clerk’s office. He fantasized about stepping out into the full heat of the rays and burning until there was nothing left of him but ash. It was only a fantasy, of course. He was far too old for the sun to have that significant of an effect.

But still he stood. Still he waited. And then…

She was heavily pregnant by that time. He looked…healthier than he had the last time Armand saw him, but that wasn’t saying much. More importantly, he seemed happier too. A friend or a relative of one of them had a camera, and Armand had a strangely out of place memory of Louis taking his photograph on the bank of the Seine once decades ago.

The newlyweds smiled at each other, then kissed briefly until the camera clicked. He took her hand and they turned away, heading into their new life together.

Armand sighed and walked away in the opposite direction.

All the arrangements had been made; he and Louis would be leaving themselves that very night. A new life.

Daniel sighed. It wasn’t a surprise, so much as it was a disappointment. Another failure. He didn’t know if he felt like shit because of it, or if he felt like shit because he didn’t feel as bad as he probably should have. Two marriages ruined, two daughters fucked up. But hey, another book out this year. His wife – both of them, really – had rightfully accused him of putting more effort and love into his career than he ever had into his marriages, and it showed.

He reached out and picked up the pen, then signed the last of the documents. He would send them to his lawyer in the morning, and he would be officially divorced again.

He wondered if there was anyone out there who could ever love him for himself. If there was anyone out there that he would ever be willing and able to devote himself to. Maybe he was just one of those people that didn’t, couldn’t love. That because of their too many faults or, hey, just their shitty luck were always going to be alone. When he was younger, he had more hope. There was something, still lurking in the back of his mind occasionally, that told him he was capable of being loved and loving in turn, that he had an imperfectly perfect match.

Fat lot of good that persistent niggle ever did for him.

He put the pen down, traded it for the martini he had mixed for himself – never as good as the ones at Duke’s but he felt like doing something a little special for the occasion. He sipped once, twice, then drained the cup. He thought about going out, finding some powder or a needle to chase it with. Really go out with a bang.

But he hadn’t touched that shit in years, not since before his oldest was born, and he had enough willpower not to give in now. He’d hurt the girls enough; they didn’t need to find him OD’d, his body slumped over the divorce papers.

Despite that, he still woke up the next morning sore as hell from sleeping at his desk. He must have had some sense left before he blacked out, though. The papers were gathered up neatly and placed inside the legal folder. The empty martini glass pushed far to the corner so he couldn’t knock it over and resting on a goddamned coaster (did he even have coasters?). At some point, he’d even pulled his jacket off the back of the chair and wrapped it over his shoulders. He apparently took better care of himself blitzed than he did sober.

In between all the sex, and much to Armand’s annoyance, Daniel still had a book to write. And once he finally got around to setting up his replacement laptop and pulling everything from the Cloud, he began to type and type. Armand successfully distracted him almost every night, and he still had a fledgling’s appetite, so progress was slow but steady.

He didn’t hit his first block until several months in, which was actually pretty perfect timing, because the place was desperate for some deep cleaning. He even got into some old closets and drawers that probably hadn’t seen the light of day for a decade – and wouldn’t for some time now, unless it was Armand pulling them open some afternoon while Daniel was conked out in the coffin.

It was when he was cleaning the junk drawer of the desk that he found the pendant way in the back.

Daniel stared at it for about a half hour, trying to remember its origins or how it had ended up in his desk. He did manage to recall finding it with his daughter back in the day, but nothing beyond that. He could tell it was some kind of vial, although whatever had been inside had dried up long ago. He twisted the top, needing to draw on his vampire strength to break the seal. It was then that he was finally able to smell the blood stains. A particular smell that he would recognize anywhere.

Armand walked into the office then, in a moment of poor or excellent timing, depending on one’s perspective.

“I just read about this new play premiering next week and…”

Armand trailed off as he stared at the vial in Daniel’s hand, which was about all the confirmation he needed.

“What is this?”

Armand’s mouth opened and closed a couple times before he managed to speak. “Dear, that is a necklace.”

Daniel whipped it at him ineffectually, the chain swinging around until it fell to the ground far from its intended target. He stood from the desk and stormed out of the room, pushing Armand out of his way.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m him.”

“Of course not,” Armand placated, following him to the living room and stopping short when Daniel turned on him.

“That’s your blood.”

“Yes.”

“How long has that been in my desk?”

“How should I know?”

“Armand!”

“I’m telling the truth! I don’t know! I don’t know when you would have put it in there! How would I – ”

Daniel ignored the growing panic in Armand’s voice. It probably wasn’t even real. Everything was lies with him.

“How long have I had it?”

Armand needlessly breathed in and out, in and out. “1974.”

Daniel nodded, feeling tears spring to his eyes. He dropped eye contact, bringing one hand up to twist it around in the air by his head. “You know, I’ve been having these dreams. Weird dreams, just like the ones I had about Polynesian Mary’s back in Dubai. But they’ve been about you and…that dumb kid who – they aren’t dreams, are they?”

A long beat of silence. “No.”

“What did you do to me?”

Armand stepped closer, desperate and reaching out for him. “Daniel – ”

Daniel backed away, nearly knocking into the bookshelf behind him. “I think you should go.”

“Beloved, please let me – ”

Daniel shook his head, gagging as he tried to control his whole body’s reaction to – what? Betrayal? Heartbreak? He didn’t know what name to give it. He held out his hand, shakily gesturing towards the door.

“Go, please go.” And from somewhere deep in his reptilian lizard brain came a word that made no sense to him but clearly meant something to Armand as soon as he said it. “Typewriter.”

One last teary gaze from his stupid, lying, gaslighting eyes, and then Armand nodded, turned, and left.

Chapter Text

The adrenaline of the last few minutes had started to drop ever so slightly. He had figured it out. He had cracked the story wide open, and while he had gloated more than was probably classy, he also couldn’t quite understand why he didn’t feel better about it. Louis was leaving and probably would be fucking Lestat as soon as possible after he landed in New Orleans, he had demanded Daniel’s safety and promised him millions, and Daniel had figured out the truth.

But he couldn’t just take the win and get the hell out of Dodge.

Instead, he walked back into the destroyed room. Armand was still slumped pathetically against the cracked wall, covered in debris. Daniel wondered how long it took to heal a broken spine. Was Armand incapable of standing, or was he just moping?

As if to answer, Armand slowly climbed to his feet. He walked closer and closer to Daniel, his expression a sort of empty glare. What had Louis called it? Half-blank, half-apocalyptic?

Daniel couldn’t move. He told himself it was because, injured or not, if Armand wanted to risk Louis’s wrath even more by killing him, there was nothing Daniel could do about it. He would never be able to move fast enough to escape. But perhaps it was because he was – just like he had been so many times during the last few weeks – enthralled by the vision in front of him.

Despite or perhaps because of the disarray and the danger, Armand was then the most attractive Daniel had ever found him. He looked like some kind of sexy angel of death who could do anything he wanted to Daniel.

And the fucking awful thing was that, despite absolutely knowing better, Daniel would let him.

As soon as he thought that, Armand – completely unexpectedly – started laughing.

“Oh Daniel, Daniel.”

“What?” he asked, hoping playing dumb would somehow actually work with a mind-reader.

Armand closed the remaining distance between them, lifting a hand and tracing one sharp, long fingernail along Daniel’s jaw and then down his neck.

“You wanted to ruin me when you thought I was poor Rashid,” he observed, not even pausing for Daniel to try to deny it. “You wanted me to use my mouth for better things during the interview. Now, you want me to fuck you senseless. Such depravity.”

“Stay out of my head.”

Armand shook his own, a small smile hinting at his lips. “I don’t even have to try. You project your desires so loudly every vampire in the hemisphere can hear them.”

Daniel didn’t even realize he had been backing up until he backed right into the wall. Shit. Nowhere to go.

Not that he really wanted to go, he realized, as Armand leaned in.

Please, please, please, Daniel thought. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for, but he was rather dismayed to realize it probably wasn’t his life. That realization was only solidified when Armand kissed him and a thrill of relieved lust swept through his body.

The kiss started slow and deep, an exploration of mouths and tongues and teeth. Armand closed the remaining distance between them, one arm propping above Daniel’s head and the other palm – unexpectedly warm and gentle – against his ribs. He pressed his thigh between Daniel’s legs, prompting his cock to fully harden and a moan to slip out from somewhere deep in his chest.

That seemed to open the floodgates, because the next few minutes were anything but slow. Daniel almost felt like a kid again, frantically making out against a wall in some seedy bar or something. His hands went up to curl into Armand’s hair, tugging on the still gritty strands to move his head to a better angle. Grinding, grinding, grinding against each other, the feel of Armand’s cock against his making Daniel dizzy with desire. They weren’t even kissing anymore so much as trying to devour each other, Armand’s tongue so far into his mouth, Daniel wondered if vampires also had some kind of modification there, some kind of forked thing designed for maximum licking pleasure.

His mind was only capable of thinking fuck and yes and Armand, please. Perhaps in response to the mental pleas, Armand grabbed Daniel’s thigh, lifting it to wrap his leg around Armand’s hip. Daniel shifted, trying to keep his balance, a feat made even more difficult when Armand’s other hand cupped him through his pants.

With a gasp, Daniel pushed a very resistant Armand away. Before he could get the wrong idea, however, Daniel explained, “I’m too old to do this against a wall or on the floor.”

Armand stared at him, pupils blown wide with lust, breathing heavily and clearly not comprehending Daniel’s words for a long minute. Then he exhaled sharply.

“Your room or mine?”

Daniel’s whole body reacted in a way he couldn’t explain but apparently Armand understood, judging by the sly grin that grew on his face.

He leaned forward, kissing Daniel so quickly he didn’t even have time to respond.

“Oh, you want that, don’t you? You don’t even know why you want it so much. Leaving messy sheets and stains and the smell of you and me together for Louis to come home to. For him to know we chose each other in the very bed he used to fuck me.”

Look, Daniel didn’t know what exactly what was going on, but he was already rock hard before Armand had painted that picture for him, so he pushed him away again. He walked unsteadily, reaching blindly back for Armand’s hand to pull him along.

Armand eventually had to take the lead, though. Daniel’s sneaking had led him to many places around the penthouse but he had never been able, or perhaps brave enough, to find their bedroom. But oh boy, the art, that ridiculously huge bed – did they ever actually touch each other – with an ugly as sin headboard, the spindles or whatever the fuck they were called. If he had thought the decoration was…domineering…in other rooms…

“This place looks like a prison cell.”

“Mmm,” Armand acknowledged even as he stripped himself and Daniel in turn. Daniel barely even had time to check out Armand’s nudity or feel anything about his own before Armand practically threw him onto the bed. “Hard to say who was the jailer in the end.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “You, bud. You were the jailer. Stop trying to play the vic – ”

Armand cut him off with another kiss, and Daniel decided they could save the rest of the argument for later. Things got a little hazy after that, and he felt like he was losing little pockets of time. He didn’t know how much of that was due to overwhelming pleasure and how much was vampire mind-fuckery, but he didn’t really care in the end, because he was slicked up and Armand was removing three fingers from Daniel’s ass and replacing them with his dick far earlier than he would have thought possible.

As he started to roll his hips, Armand lifted one of Daniel’s legs, hooking the knee over his shoulder. Daniel threw his head back with a slightly pained laugh.

“Going to break a hip in this position,” he complained, only half-joking.

“I’ll nurse you back to health,” Armand promised, sounding strangely sincere as well.

Then, neither of them spoke for some time. In fact, Daniel actually lost the power of speech when Armand found his prostate over and over again. He reached up to place one hand on Armand’s jaw and hold his head still while he stared incredulously and just a tiny bit fondly at him. This was – this was all too much. OK, to be fair, it had been a while since he had sex with anyone, let alone with a guy, not to mention with anyone who didn’t need some sort of chemical help getting in the mood. But even given all that, it didn’t seem right that this was as hot as it was. Apparently what people said about hate sex was true.

Armand smiled, turning to kiss the meat of Daniel’s palm. “This isn’t hate sex,” he whispered.

“No?” Daniel asked, breathlessly. “Are you saying you don’t hate me or I don’t hate you, because I gotta tell you – ”

“Hush.”

There was some definite mind-fuckery then, seeing as how Daniel physically could not say anything in response. He glared at Armand as eloquently as he could, which earned him a laugh. A laugh that revealed fangs. Daniel exhaled, stretching his thumb out and barely grazing the tip of one before Armand shook his head and pulled away with a hiss.

Do it, Daniel thought as loud as he could. When Armand made shocked eye contact, he added Drink from me.

Armand’s thrusts slowed to a stop, in tandem with his expression turning soft and confused but obviously tempted. Daniel nodded.

Within moments, Armand’s face was buried in his neck. Daniel moved his hand to the back of his head, wanting to hold him in place. Two sharp pokes that made Daniel gasp. One, two, three pulls – a little drink – and then the dragging of Armand’s tongue as he licked the wounds closed.

“More, take more,” Daniel whispered, feeling intoxicated.

Armand moaned into Daniel’s skin. “I would not be able to stop myself,” he muttered so quietly Daniel barely heard him. “I would kill you.”

“I don’t care,” Daniel replied, rather surprised to realize he meant it.

“I do,” Armand sounded like he might have been crying. “Daniel, I – ”

Daniel pushed him up and away again, forcing eye contact. There were indeed tears streaming down Armand’s cheeks. As little sense as it made, it only made Daniel more certain.

“Don’t you know a good narrative when you see one, director? This is how it’s supposed to end. Kill me or turn me but don’t send me away to die sick and alone.”

“Daniel – ”

“It was always going to be you, wasn’t it? It was always meant to be you. I’ve been calling to you for fifty years, waiting for you to finish the job you started.”

“Danny.” Armand was fully sobbing, unable to look at Daniel as he shook his head.

“Please,” Daniel gripped him harder, turning Armand’s face toward him again. “I want it to be you, babe. I’ve always wanted – ”

Daniel never finished the plea, as Armand swooped down and bit him again. They started moving together again, wild erratic thrusts that made the stupid ugly headboard creak as if it were breaking. Daniel struggled to breathe, stared unseeing at the ceiling as the blood loss and the peak of pleasure battled for the most overwhelming sensation. He called out something that he was very much afraid was some sort of love confession as his orgasm hit and his heart gave out.

In a half-conscious haze, he felt Armand pull him into a seating position, forcing his mouth to the wound slit on Armand’s own throat.

Drink, beloved, Daniel heard inside his mind.

Groans of pleasure and pain. The best damn thing Daniel ever tasted, Armand’s blood entering his mouth at the same time his come entered below. And then nothing but darkness.

Daniel climbed the steps of his bus, went inside and closed the door behind him, and dropped back with a sigh. The fans “surprised” with a VIP backstage pass had been just high enough to give Daniel a bit of a pleasant drifting feeling, and this close to sunrise, he was ready to crash. One good thing about the tour being such a hit was that they had enough buses to sneak a couple coffins along as well. They had an unspoken agreement that he would not comment on Louis and Lestat sharing one as long as they did not comment on how fucking miserable and lonely Daniel was.

Perhaps that state of mind – or perhaps the drugged blood – explained why it took him so long to realize the bus was unusually dark and quiet. Daniel looked around, wary, but was not able to sense any –

“Hello, Daniel.”

He jumped so high, he thought for a second he might have finally figured out the Cloud Gift. “Fuck!”

Daniel snapped his fingers to get a flame going. It let off just enough light to reveal Armand sitting in a chair, in the dark, like the creep he was.

“About time you showed up.”

“Yes, well. I saw the clips you posted online of your next…interview.” He grimaced, the tone of his voice suggesting it was like a tasteless curse word to him.

“Yeah, what’d you think? Could have a blockbuster on our hands.”

“Lestat’s music is as melodramatic as ever, prancing show-off that he is. You continue to push sensationalism over substance, a disappointing end to a once respectful – ”

“Hey, don’t hold back. Say what you really think.”

Armand stood and began to pace the very small area around the coffin. “Of all possible – you chose – him? Him?”

“Jealous?” Daniel asked, trying not to grin. The answer was obvious, after all, but if he let Armand know that, he might spook again.

Armand scoffed. “I have no desire to be interrogated about my life by you. Interview whomever you want.”

“Just not him?”

Armand sighed loudly. He placed his hands on his hips, facing away. The line of his back was tense.

“You know – ” he began, breaking off when his voice cracked. Daniel wished he could see his face, so he could know how sincere it was. “You know how I feel…”

“About who? Lestat? Or Louis?” He hesitated, not quite able to say it at first. “Me? Nah, couldn’t be me.”

“You’re right,” Armand responded, turning on him. His expression was stony. “I loved Lestat. I loved Louis. You were just some addict I fucked for a few years.”

“Eleven years, as I recall. Nearly twelve, if we count that time after Dubai.”

Armand tilted his head, resembling nothing so much as a confused puppy.

“Yeah, I remember it all. It’s all come back. Your Mind Gift isn’t as strong as you think. And you know what I remember? That you loved me more than any of them. That you love me as much as I love you.”

“Why do you think that?” It sounded almost like Armand was trying to maintain the fight, the anger, whatever justification he had used to finally come back to Daniel. But it sounded even more like he really didn’t get it, the poor bastard.

“I don’t think; I know. Because you wanted me to live. Because me being healthy and whole mattered more to you than me being yours. You were a pouting little child, doing everything you could to keep Louis, to punish Lestat, because you wanted both of them to be your possessions. Me? You loved me enough to let me go.”

Armand sobbed once before regaining control of himself. “But I didn’t, did I? I never let you go. I couldn’t even tell you the truth before I damned you forever, and you must hate me for it.”

Jesus. Daniel tilted his head back in understanding. Was that what all this was about, in the end?

“I don’t, you immortal idiot. I don’t.” He would repeat it until Armand finally believed it. Even if it took centuries. “I hate you for waiting so long to do it. I hate you even more for leaving after you did.”

“What?”

Daniel threw his hands in the air, closed the distance between them, and placed both palms on Armand’s cheeks. “I didn’t want the Dark Gift or whatever bullshit name you want to give it just so I could live forever. I wanted you forever. I love you, you asshole. Not past tense, did you catch that? Pretty sure I know every awful evil thing you’ve done, the worst thoughts you’ve ever had, and I still love you. Even if there is more I don’t know about, I’ll still love you. So just…stay.”

And then he kissed him. Again and again.

“Beloved,” Armand attempted to speak, the sound muffled by Daniel’s lips pressing against his.

“I don’t want to hear anything besides I love you too.”

Armand ran a hand down Daniel’s chest. “I love you too, I do,” he said, “but…”

“No buts.”

“But this trailer is not sunproof and dawn approaches.”

“Oh.” Daniel laughed. “OK, yeah. Good thing this coffin is big enough for two.”