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Chapter Text

The dinner party Armand had planned in his night island villa was quite grand as one would expect from a meticulous art curator with a taste for Italian renaissance décor.

Daniel, drunk on the city's young bachelors and bachelorettes, had promised to be back before ten, but Armand knew him all too well. And even as an immortal being, the man wove promises like spider silk; lovely, fragile, and meant to break.

By a half to ten, the staff had already started bringing in the finest food from a private gentlemen's club in New York with a deluded promise of women and narcotics.

Louis, had informed him fifteen minutes earlier that he and Lestat were already at the port, so it was only a matter of time for them to arrive at the villa. And Although Armand liked to pretend that such mortal things often didn't bother him, this dinner party had obviously left him in a grave state of restlessness.

The vampire stood at the large balcony, towering over the villa's garden with clear sight of the whole premises which was comforting to an extent since he didn't always trust the staff to detect the eariest of occurences on the island.

A black Rolls Royce phantom suddenly appeared at the gates and Armand easily spotted Lestat's driver. He looked at his Monblanc Summit 3 watch, his orange eyes flickering like an inflamed fireplace ; It was ten and Daniel was nowhere to be found. He looked back at the gate, struggling to hold his fangs back.

"Do let me guess ? Meticulously arranged candles, perfectly polished silver, and endless sighs of ennui?” Armand heard Lestat whisper to Louis, and Louis as wary as he always tried to be, looked up, his eyes meeting Armand's. He forced a smile. And Armand smiled back, flatly.

"Lestat please, don't start trouble tonight! Je t'en supplie mon cher" He grabbed Lestat's arm and turned him. "We have enough on our plate."

"Trouble? Darling, I’m merely appreciating the décor. So much candlelight…" Lestat walked into the villa twirling around, with his wrist bent as if ready to point out the smallest fault with great condescension, "perfect for hiding centuries of bad decisions.”

“Lestat. Louis. Welcome. I’m glad you could both make it.” Armand showed up in a burgundy silk jumpsuit and an elegant fine belt to accentuating his narrow waist. Louis stared a little too hard before realizing Lestat's was doing the same.

"Armand… you look well. Elegant as ever.” Louis shook his hand.

"Yeah ... he looks like a choirboy that got lost in a tailor’s shop. Ah, mais attends, so this is what had your mouth watering in Paris, Louis?" Lestat had a slight grimace on his face, his eyes bursting with hostility.

"Lestat..." Louis sighs, trying to keep a smile on his face.

“It must be difficult, Lestat. Watching someone accept a compliment without begging for it." Armand said with a slight smirk.

“Well, I hope you savor it. God knows he doesn't hand them out often.” Lestat stiffens, the grin dropping for a split second before he bares his teeth in a too-wide smile at Louis. 

A member of the staff came rushing, visibly uneasy "Monsieur Armand, there's a woman at the door, she says you invited her to the party but she's not on the list of the people allowed inside the villa." 

"A woman?" Armand tried to keep his composure to not give Lestat any satisfaction of seeing him throw a tantrum.

"Amadeo!" Gabrielle emerged from behind the staff member in a beautiful three-piece suit and an arrogant attitude. And before Armamd could say anything she threw her strong arms around his fragile torso and hugged him tightly. "Beautiful Amadeo, all elegance, all emptiness."

Lestat held back a giggle, placing his arm around Louis's shoulder.

"It's Armand." 

"Louis." She pulled away at once, ignoring Armand's protest. "Louis… your face is still maddening, a face carved to shame the rest of us.” She kissed him on each cheek.

"Lestat." She turned to him dramatically. "Pink strands? How… rebellious." She touched his hair and he recoiled.

"It’s a statement Gabrielle.” He bristled at the slight provocation.

"Quite the unforgettable statement, yes. Like a clown tumbling into a cathedral. No one can quite decide whether to laugh or look away.” She saw Louis look away, disturbed by their interaction.

Armand finally steps forward, voice sharp but smooth : “Lestat, Gabrielle, you’re both dazzling, I’m sure. But the performance is wasted here. My invitation was to dinner, not a duel.” 

"Well, Armand … if we’re going to dine, you’d better show us where to sit. Lead the way, oh immortal angel of etiquette.” Gabrielle approached him.

"Of course. Right this way. Please follow.” Armand stiffened, but his smile stayed polite.

“Look at him go… all poise and ice. Deliciously tedious.” Lestat snorted, whispering to Louis.

"Careful, darling. We wouldn’t want you to stumble under the weight of your own elegance!" Gabrielle leaned in, voice teasing, almost a spiteful purr.

Armand guided them to the table, keeping his composure, his eyes flashing briefly with restrained irritation. Louis sighed quietly, and Lestat’s grin widenned.

"And I thought you were gonna be the one stirring shit." Louis murmured, his hand on Lestat's waist.

Hundreds of candles flickered arround an over-the-top renaissance themed furniture. Dark fruits, roasted meats, and rich breads are spread out, enough to make any human mouth water. Yet the vampires will taste nothing.

The group took their designed seats with Armand at the head of the table.

"Darling, Dis-moi… did he raid a monastery for this look, or is this just centuries of brooding condensed into velvet?” Lestat sat next to Louis.

"No, I'm not doing this Lestat, nope." Louis didn't want any trouble.

Gabrielle traced the edge of the wine glass with her thin pale finger, staring around the dining room. "Du soie? (Silk)? Oh, my sweet naïve angel… it’s tragic chic. Such an interesting choice, I can almost hear the sobs coming from the cushions.” 

“Those candelabras, though… I’ve seen Gothic cathedrals with less self-importance.” Lestat leaned back, twirling a fork dramatically.

"Could you two please control yourselves?" Louis glances between them, face tight.

“Relax, darling. We’re merely appreciating the… effort. It takes skill to make opulence look so bleak." Gabrielle declared loud enough for Armand to hear.

"Thank you. I sought a balance of drama and serenity. Perhaps it leans slightly toward drama.” Armand inclined his head in Lestat's direction.

"Is that a Gladius sword collection? Oh Armand, I adore them! Nothing says ‘welcome’ quite like the threat of decapitation.” Lestat's blue eyes brightened at the sight of Armand's uneasiness.

"Noted. I’ll take it under advisement.” Armand’s lips twitched, but he stayed perfectly poised.

Lestat stretched dramatically across his chair, whispering to Louis : “I think the furniture hates us already. Feel that? It’s alive with judgment.” He mocked Armand's visible spite.

The doors opened and the staff arrived carrying silver trays of freshly curated blood glimmering under the candlelight. 

Armand turned his head, eyes briefly meeting Lestat and Gabrielle’s, who were grinning mischievously.

"Excellent. I do hope the blood proves… more agreeable than the conversation so far.” Armand smiled at the head servant.

"You really did try. Look at this table! The chairs, the drapes… it’s almost as if you’re hosting a funeral for someone who’s still alive. How very… you." Gabrielle took a little sip from the blood soup. "Morbidly Roman."

"I've seen dungeons more inviting than this. Tell me , were you going for an apocalyptic dinner party or a séance?" Lestat twirled a strand of pink hair, smirking at Armand.

"Your observations are… colorful. I trust your critique is as informed as it is… imaginative.” Armand took a small sip fron the blood.

"Look at his perfect little face, so composed! Yet you can almost see the panic!" Lestat winked at Armand.

Another tray filled with vintage pinot noir was dragged into the room.

"Your guests may partake, Master Armand. The vintage is particularly fine this eve." The head servant stood at the head of the table waiting for the staff to pour the guests a taste.

"Thank you Omar. I trust it shall be found agreeable…" Armand's solid composure was impressively convincing.

The wine was poured and the atmosphere was charged with a dim orange light and subtle tension. Gabrielle leaned slightly forward, her eyes glinting with mischief as she addressed Armand.

"Tell me, mon ange… this Daniel of yours, how fares your… companionship? Dis-moi, do you two converse, or merely gaze into each other’s eyes until the centuries pass?” Her voice was honeyed but venomous. 

"Gabrielle… some matters are not for idle speculation. I trust your curiosity will not be leading to impropriety.” Armand’s fingers tightened slightly on his goblet; a subtle flicker of stress passing over his otherwise serene face.

"I do wonder, surely an old man newly turned must find your… rigidity… challenging. Or perhaps he welcomes it?” Her expression was soft. 

"Does Daniel endure your… discipline with grace, or does he ever… fight back?” Lestat commented knowing Daniel's stubborn nature.

Louis leaned back, watching Gabrielle and Lestat pounce on Armand. He knew Armand deserved it, but he also understood how difficult it was for Armand to speak of such intimate things.

"Yes, pray tell, Armand… who is more stubborn at the table and elsewhere? I imagine centuries of propriety might leave one… restrained, yet…” she glanced pointedly. "Although, wild when the night deepens..." She gave Lestat a wink.

Armand’s composure wavered for a heartbeat; his voice was measured but sharp :"Enough, the both of you, I would ask you to cease .”

"Mon dieu-" Gabrielle was frustrated by his mere presence. "Must you always be so… proper? I worry for poor Daniel, le pauvre! Having to endure such… discipline. One can almost feel the tension in the air like… well, let’s just say it must be testing.” She seemed to enjoy her wine. "I suppose you’re amusing yourself by prodding his appetites. Such sordid foreplay."

"Do you keep that pristine little body of yours under lock and key, or does Daniel get the full, How do you say it?" He broke off mid-sentence turning to Louis who nodded at him. "expérience?” Lestat looked so dashing in his pink ensemble Armand found it challenging to contest his rude remarks. 

"Boyish mischief, how Lioncourt of you." Armand sighed.

"Does Daniel groan like a mortal, or is it all delicate suffering?” Lestat continued beratung him.

Louis shifted slightly, hiding a slight grin behind his glass.

"Enough Lestat. Your… fantasies are neither amusing nor appropriate." Armand's voice was strained. "One almost expects to find your words published under the banner of fanfiction."

The heavy oak doors swung open. Daniel entered, slightly flushed, eyes apologetic. The candlelight caught the pale gleam of his vampiric features. The room fell momentarily silent.

"I'm so sorry babe I had this thing with Kate." 

He swaggered over, full of himself.

Slumping into the chair, he reached for Armand, aiming for a kiss, but Armand drew back

“Daniel… this is hardly the moment for… familiarity.” Armand stiffened, embarrassed by both Lestat and Gabrielle looking.

"You may need to tame him more strictly than I imagined cherub." Gabrielle smiled shaking Daniel's hand.

"I’d pay to see what Daniel has to do to break that perfect little act." Lestat whispered to Louis and Louis smiled at the notion. "Trop fort!"

"Do you hate me?" Daniel sat himself in the empty seat between Armand and Lestat.

"One cannot simply arrive at their leisure and expect… indulgence.” Armand's eyes gleamed with orange.

"I bet poor Mr Molloy here has been trembling all the way here, wondering if he’ll be properly disciplined… or thoroughly… tested.” Louis chimmed in and Armand was surprised by his intrusion. His efforts appeared directed more at irritating Daniel than at disturbing Armand.

"It's just a dinner party right? It's not like I missed anything?" Daniel sat back, his improper mannerism prompting Armand's fury. "So...?" He looked around, with unmistakable hauteur.

"Just a dinner party?" Armand repeated. "Hours of preparation, care, and… order… reduced to a trifle?” He didn't look at Daniel. "Should this burden you, Daniel, do run along and minister to Kate’s plumbing woes. I’m certain it will soothe your paternal guilt.” 

"He’s got a filthy little tongue on him, doesn’t he?” Daniel exuded an almost tangible arrogance .

“Oh, Armand… forgive him. He seems to think punctuality is optional. How quaint. Though one might say his… position in your hierarchy is… interestingly flexible.” Louis commented and Gabrielle appreciated his words. "It never occurred to me that Daniel had it in him… to grovel, no less.”

"The unchanging conundrum..." Lestat shrieked, "Eternity doesn't seem to have cured the American of his exquisite laziness."

"Or his unmissable vanity." Louis added and Daniel smiled knowing Louis still hated him for the book.

"Respect is not earned through casualness nor bold gestures Daniel. Sit up now, and let us proceed… without further impropriety.” Armand gestured to the staff to bring some documents over. 

"A rigid choirboy, a trembling immortal old man… and we’re only at the first course." Gabrielle chuckled raising her glass at Daniel , "Santé!" Their glasses clicked as envelops were laid in front of them .

"As you all may know, the Talamasca grows bolder with each passing day. Their prying, their studies, their newly developed methods of digital spying.." He eyed Daniel, "they are no longer merely observers. They've became a threat. A very real one, to all of us. " He showed some photographs he'd obtained from the Talamasca archive through his own infiltrates. In one of the photographs Lestat was observed feeding on a fangirl behind his trailer.

"A meth addict poser, I never thought you’d stoop so low, Lestat. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being observed." She leaned forward mocking him. "The little wolfkiller turned wolf." Lestat's features contorted in a grimace of annoyance.

"I must admit, little whippet, your little exposé is quite flattering." Lestat didn't like the exposure. 

"This is exactly my point." Armand rished at the sight of Lestat's chagrin. "The Talamasca’s reach now extends into every corner, even into moments meant to be private. " He continued. "We are being catalogued, dissected, and made vulnerable." His thin fingers were drumming the table.

"To be watched… trapped… and powerless." Louis looked up at Armand through his lashes, "Oh I do get you Armand." He was implying his and Claudia's gruesome trial. "It must be so exhausting, living in the middle of silent scheming.

"Now is not the time for lamentation." Armand turned sharply toward Louis, voice clipped.

"Lamentation huh?" Louis felt the anger seize him, "Look at you, you're trembling at the thought of a few mortal lenses spying on your discipline sessions! Is that it? You're worried the Talamasca is gonna get pictures of the big bad ancient vampire getting fucked up his bum?" Lestat stared at him with a proud smile. "Well newsflash, I'm not worried, Lestat's not worried, Gabrielle's fine with it, so tell us Armand, what's your angle?"

"Control your tone Louis." Armand simply said.

"I'm just glad you have so much to lose now." Louis's green eyes would sometimes glow like a serpent's when vindictive. 

"You know Louis he's not doing this for himself." Daniel interfered with his laissez-aller attitude. "He's doing all the work that needs to be done to keep them for fucking our lives up, the rockstar's life included!"

"You're one to talk." Gabrielle criticized his past relations with the Talamasca.

"You don’t have to be his lapdog, Daniel. He doesn’t need your defense. He’s survived centuries without you." Louis's shifted in his seat.

"I'm not his fucking lapdog I'm here-" Armand put his hand on Daniel's arm silencing him.

"Right." Lestat muttered with a venomous parisian accent. "Noté. Not his lapdog." His eyes brimmed with ridicule.

"Tell us sweet little thespian , what is your angle in this?" She wove her fingers in, expecting an clear answer. "Was there some hidden stratagem, when you resolved to summon us all to your island?" Gabrielle cut through the tension. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well I never summoned you, did I now Gabrielle?" Armand turned his gaze to her, calmly dismissive. 

"And yet, here I am." Gabrielle looked through her lashes with a flicker of disdain. 

"I should've anticipated your intrusion. You were never the one to resist being the center of attention." He had a fainted soft smile on his face.

"Me the center of attention? With you in the room? Impossible. No one eclipses a flamboyant whore like yourself." She laughed. "With skills like yours, one might imagine even Lestat can’t help but think of you now and then."

"Drawing blood je vois." Lestat commented and Louis had a slight smile forming at the corner of his lips.

"Still doing theater I suppose." Louis snickered at Lestat, "You can take the boy out of the tacky parisian théâtre but you can't the tackiness out of the boy!" Lestat burst into hysterical laughter.

"Perhaps. But I have no need to parade myself before mortals, or even immortals. You mistake visibility for hunger Louis. Heathens. All of you. Clamoring for attention, flailing in your own desires, thinking your petty judgments matter in the great scale of things." His eyes sweeping over them.

"Ah, there it is! Le jugement de Rome! Our little monk finally remembers his sermons." Lestat clapped his hands at once.

"Heathens, you call us. And yet, Armand… here you sit, pretending you don’t crave applause every time you breathe." Gabrielle tilted her head, mocking him.

"I see you, Gabrielle, already commanding the spotlight. It’s impressive how you always make the world revolve around you and no one else." Armand was amused.

"With you in the room? Honestly, you make every chandelier feel inadequate." She, Lestat and Louis all giggled.

"Un vampire dramatique! How gothique..." Lestat found Armand pretentious. "Inviting us all here to show off his little villa italienne and feed us his high quality blood. How bourgeois!" 

"Do you practice your desolate expressions in the mirror, or do they just come naturally?” Gabrielle knew Armand's eyes only gleamed when he was furious, and surely, his pupils sparkled like lava.

"And what would you know of natural grace, Gabrielle? Do you come equipped with a manual on elegance, or must I teach you the subtleties of stillness?" He brought out a golden case of cigarettes and lit it up with the tip of his delicate fingers.

"Even your disciples look half in love, half in terror. That’s a talent.” Lestat commented on Daniel's silence. "Daniel, mon petit, do you plan to faint or swoon first?"

"Would you and your evil stepmom here mind you fucking business?" Daniel grabbed the cigarette from Armand's lips and put it in his own mouth. "Cuz nothing says a fair fight like ganging up with your mom on your ex." 

Armand froze. His eyes widenes. A faint blush spread across his cheeks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to form words. He looked like a child caught in shock, unsure whether to speak or not.

"Look at him, all flustered." Lestat noticed Armand's stillness. 

Armand's eyes darted between Daniel and Gabrielle, still silent, cheeks flushed, hands twitching slightly.

"Perhaps we should document it! A portrait of humility… or terror… or both." Gabrielle joined Lestat's .

"He blushes easy so?" Daniel leaned closer to Armand, his voice a whisper now.

Armand opened his mouth, but closed it again. "I… I…"

Daniel smirked, leaning back slightly, cigarette dangling between his fingers, fully in control now.

"Don't just sit there, tell them your temporary confinement plan." Daniel's tone was calm and commanding.

"The… the Talamasca… I thought… they uh... we… we could… confine…" He stopped abruptly, realizing how flustered he sounded. "Daniel.." He turned to him, as if appealing to him.

"Yeah?" Daniel's eye were anchored in his. "Keep talking babe. They're listening."

"We as vampires should-" Armand stammered.

Daniel calmly pulled the cigarette from his mouth and placed it back in Armand's. He blew a slow stream of smoke toward Armand, eyes locking on him, soft dominance radiating from every movement.

"No need to strain yourself, you must be tired babe. I'll speak for you." 

Armand was vexed, caught between embarrassment, desire, and awe.

"I… I don’t need your assistance, Daniel." He glanced away, biting his lip, cheeks aflame, trying to regain composure. His hands clenched slightly in his lap, betraying his inner turmoil.

"Babe, you can speak for yourself , I know that!" He touched his shoulder gently, " but sometimes… it is easier to let me… articulate your intentions. You know, because of all the sensitivities."

"I am quite capable … of… of… managing it… myself…" 

"Armand, coming undone by a single cigarette et une petite caresse." Lestat grinned at the tension. "C'est intéressant n'est ce pas?" He looked at gabrielle and she nodded.

"Let him talk Daniel, you're flustering the man." Louis joked.

"C'est délicieux!" Gabrielle enjoyed watching him in such a state. "How spectacular, bending the dark angel's pride so easily."

"Babe , look!" Daniel enjoyed disarming him. " I know you can handle yourself, of course I know that! I'm just trynna help here." He tilted his head slightly, eyes locking on Armand with quiet intensity. "As long as I am here … you don’t need to." He gestured subtly toward the wine bottle, his movement slow, deliberate, almost regal in its authority. The gesture carried weight, a silent instruction. Armand’s breath caught in his throat.

Armand’s mind raced. Part of him bristled at the implicit command. Another part… burned with a desire he couldn't deny. The act felt like a ritual of both humiliation and surrender.

His hands shook slightly as he reached for the wine bottle. Each movement felt deliberate, watched, scrutinized. 

"Well it's not gonna pour itself is it?" Daniel chuckled.

Armand stood up, hands trembling slightly as he held the wine bottle and Daniel watched him fill the glass with calm intensity . " Yes. Just there. I don't wanna get sloppy. Stop." Armand obeyed, hands slightly shaking as he carefully set the glass before Daniel. "You can sit now."  Obediently, the ancient vampire lowered himself into the chair, hands fidgeting. 

"Blushing like a virgin schoolboy." Lestat rolled his eyes. "I think I'm starting to enjoy myself."

"So, like Armand was saying, we bloodsuckers must keep a low profile for a while… at least for the next few days. "He gestured smoothly around the room, eyes glinting, calm and commanding.

"So! Dear comrades, we invite you for a week on the island! Think of it like a very well-planned confinement." Armand glanced at Daniel through his long dark lashes. "There’s good food all around, excellent room service, great suites… and, of course, it’s a safe space to keep ourselves under the radar."

Lestat leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "What about ... narcotics? Surely, a week on this little paradise island with vampire Morticia and Gomez Addams here, would require some indulgences?"

"All the tourists here are high on something. They’re practically swimming in drugs. You’ll have no trouble finding… anything you desire my friend." Lestat leaned back, eyes widening in mock delight, grinning ear to ear.

"I don't think it's a good idea chéri." Louis pinched Lestat. "With Daniel's past and everything."

"But why? "Lestat seemed excited, " We can finally have some romantic time to ourselves! Come on Louis, we need it!" He lowered his voice. "As for Daniel, who cares?" His soft hair moved around his heavily animated eyebrows.

"Yeah, who cares? We won't be disturbing you. Our room is all the way across the pool." Daniel winked at Louis. "You may have the east wing all to yourselves."

"Our room?" Gabrielle smirked.

"Shouldn’t we discuss the arrangement with the staff first? Make sure everything is… prepared properly?" Armand turned to Daniel, interrupting Gabrielle's attempt to start another series of verbal scrutiny.

"The staff will do as you say because you're the one paying them sweetheart, not the other way around." Armand stiffened at the casual intimacy of Daniel’s arm across his shoulders.

"Right." Armand was deeply embarrassed by how he let Daniel control him in front of louis and lestat.

"Right." Daniel flicked his gaze to Armand, eyes filled with desire.

"I suppose there’s a room with a sea view?" Gabrielle stood up. "If I'm staying in your little northward-leaning island, I need a good view of the ocean."

"Ah! Of course! Of course. There’s a view for everyone… some more dramatic than others." He glanced at Armand, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly, almost salivating. 

"I… I can… arrange something… suitable…" Armand stammered.

" Great!" Daniel chuckled in celebration, "Let's get these lovely guests going, I love you all, but fuck, I really need to tend to much more important stuff." Daniel touched Armand thigh.

“I must say, watching you two is exhausting… and I’ve only observed. Imagine what poor Armand endures.” Gabrielle's expression was stoic. "I’m honestly impressed… and slightly scandalized.”

"I… I assure you… he's not… always like this..." Armand gestured to the staff to start cleaning up while taking the last sip from his wine.

"It’s not my fault you’re hot." Daniel commented casually. "You’ve got to give me credit… lasting that long in the penthouse without… bending you over. Armand nearly choked, eyes widening, utterly flustered. He saw Louis snickering which made the comment even more mortifying.

Armand nearly choked, eyes widening. "Would you excuse me?" 

Daniel leaned back with a slow, amused smile, cigarette dangling casually. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" His pale white hand looked like a thick cuff around Armand's thin wrist . "Sit down."

"I need to inform the staff." Armand was mortified underneath his graceful composure. "The rooms aren't going to prepare themselves dear."

"Oh for god's sake let the boy go you dirty old man!" Lestat was annoyed by Daniel's advances.

"I am not a boy." Armand stiffened his lips.

"Let him live! " Louis laughed resting his head on Lestat's shoulder.

"You’ve got stamina like a teenager on a Red Bull binge Daniel. " Lestat added. "And that is not a compliment."

"Last I checked someone found thirty broken condoms in your tour bus." Daniel always knew what to say. 

"Thirty?" Louis's eyes widened.

"It was a bet darling." Lestat tried to dismiss it.

"You're so nasty oh my god." Louis said holding lestat's face in his hand.

"And you love it." Lestat kissed him and Daniel smirked at their curious dynamic.

Chapter Text

Armand oversaw the matter of lodging with quiet precision, ensuring each guest was placed with care. For Louis and Lestat, he reserved a chamber in the hushed east wing, where solitude and comfort would be their own. Gabrielle, he honored with a room that opened to the vast horizon, its windows framing the restless beauty of the sea.

Lestat slipped into the chamber he and Louis were given , his movements so smooth they might have been mistaken for gliding.

“Oh…” He spun lightly on his heels, his mousseline shirt's tail swirling about him like dark water. “Oh, this is grisly ... marvelously grisly.” His crystalline eyes, round and quick, darted past Louis to where Armand lingered, still in the shadows. “And I mean that, of course, as a compliment.” He winked at Louis.

“It is what they call new wave décor,” Armand murmured, curving only one corner of his mouth into a brief smile.

“Well, whatever this is, I like it,” Louis interjected, striding past them both with nonchalance, straight to the balcony where the red island glow awaited him.

“I shall leave you to your reunion,” Armand said, already turning away to depart, his heels barely making a sound against the floor.

“Armand.” Lestat’s voice caught him, softer, almost secretive.

Armand turned back, tilting his head ever so slightly, his gaze inquisitive ; _why should Lestat wish to speak to me without Louis listening?_

“Lestat?” he prompted, pausing at a calculated distance.

“Viens ici (come here), mon amour, why so far?” Lestat extended a hand coaxing him closer.

Armand obeyed with an air of hesitation, as though proximity itself were a concession.

“The room is… well, charming enough,” Lestat said, lowering his voice. “But tell me mon amour, have you any condoms in this place?” His grin was feline.

“I see.” Armand’s lips twitched forming a faint smile. “I shall, no doubt, persuade the staff to acquire prophylactics for you. Do you have any particular preference?” His tone was a teasing gravity that Lestat recognized all too well.

“The kind that doesn’t break,” Lestat purred, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

“Ah. As durable as your appetites, then,” Armand mused. “You still prefer them, I notice, in the same fashion as you prefer your paramours. Pliant enough to stretch, yet most unwilling to rupture. Remarkable flexibility.” His gaze shifted to Louis, back turned against the balcony doors, oblivious to the conversation.

“Just see to it!” Lestat snapped, temper flaring.

“Anything else , Monsieur de Lioncourt ?” Armand inquired, already retreating a pace.

“Well yes…” Lestat leaned against the doorframe, leaving the door half-open, his head cocked slyly between wood and wall.

“What?” Armand’s expression was flat, unreadable.

“A bottle of tequila. None of your little poisons.” His laugh was bright, but edged.

“Ah." Armand held back a laugh, "but perhaps I already poisoned your dinner earlier this evening,” He replied with infuriating calm. “Yours… and Louis’s as well.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Lestat barked, eyes flashing.

“I might have,” Armand murmured, a shadow of amusement passing over his lips.

“You could not bear to see me gone!” Lestat shouted, his voice alive with both mockery and desperate conviction. “You love me far too well for that Armand." 

Armand’s gaze grew deeper. “Do you not know? Among mortals, to poison is considered the highest form of devotion. Second only, of course, to stabbing. But stabbing, you see, is inelegant. Brutal. Distinctly… human."

“You wouldn’t dare!” Lestat snapped. He never had patience for Armand’s encrypted little threats.

Armand’s eyes lingered, steady and unnerving. “Poison is the fastest of punishments." He explained. "It requires little to no spectacle, no struggle. Merely a sip, a swallow. That is mercy Lestat, and mercy is ill-suited to the ruin you inflicted upon what should have been a harmonious evening.” He walked away.

“If you weren’t so pretty, Armand… if you weren’t so pretty…” Lestat slammed the bedroom door shut with a crack that echoed.

Armand was on his way downstairs to make sure the staff handled everything the guests needed, he was looking for the head servant Omar when he suddenly crossed paths with Daniel, who had been waiting, arms folded, like a sentinel at the end of the hallway.

“Were you just flirting with Lestat?" Daniel said, his voice edged with a half-smile.

“Not your concern.” Armand tried to brush past, but Daniel’s hand closed firmly around his arm, pulling him into the narrow broom closet.

“What are you doing?” Armand’s eyes widened, luminous in the dim light.

“I miss you, babe. I really do. I mean how many times did we get to make out? What was it? Uhm...” Daniel lifted his hand, pretending to count on his fingers, his grin deliberately careless. “Once?”

“I have things to tend to, Daniel.”

“Is that your plan? Turn me, make out with me once, then leave me clawing after you until I go mad?” Daniel’s fingers cradled Armand’s face, tilting it upward with unsettling tenderness.

“There’s no plan,” Armand said, though his back was already pressed against the rough boards. His voice softened. “And it was more than once.”

“More than once?” Daniel arched a brow. “When?!”

“San Francisco,” Armand replied with a faint, knowing smile.

“Not fair,” Daniel laughed quietly, his eyes glinting with triumph.

“I need to go, Daniel. Let me...” His voice shrank, as if asking permission.

“I’ll take anything at this point,” Daniel murmured, his tone twisted with insistence.

“Daniel…” The name barely left Armand’s lips before it was swallowed by a deep, wet kiss.

When Daniel finally pulled back, he caught the frantic rhythm of Armand’s heartbeat, drumming beneath his silk burgundy shirt. Pride curved his lips.

“On your knees.” His hand gripped Armand’s neck, pressing him down with no space for refusal.

“I’m on my knees… in a broom closet,” Armand whispered, half dazed, aware of the cramped walls pressing in. “You couldn’t wait until-”

But before he could finish, Daniel had unzipped his trousers, drawing himself free. The flushed tip of his cock brushed against Armand’s cheek.

“Open your mouth, babe,” Daniel said, his voice taut with hunger. "And please stop with the chit chat."

Armand hesitated, lips parted with reluctance and inevitability, before enclosing the hardened cock in the warmth of his small mouth.

“That’s a good boy.” Daniel’s pale fingers threaded through Armand’s dark curls, urging him deeper.

The sounds were soft and desperate purring vibrations, muffled moans, and the uneven gasp of breath struggling past the wet slippery obstruction. Saliva mingled with blood, slipping from Armand’s lips, and crimson tears traced down his cheeks in delicate streams.

“Look up. I want to see your eyes.”

Armand obeyed, lifting his gaze, wide and inflamed with orange through the blur of red.

“That’s it,” Daniel murmured, his voice almost worshipful. He felt himself dissolve into the tight warmth of Armand’s throat, almost as a warm as a human's by the fresh blood coursing within it. “Yes… go on, just like the dirty slut you are."

A flicker of shame crossed Armand’s expression at the words, his eyes trembling with the heat of humiliation.

“What? Embarrassed?” Daniel’s smile was sharp, "you don't have to be, seriously."

Armand gave no reply, only continued, his mouth thick with scarlet fluid that oozed and dripped slowly down his chin. The cramped closet grew hotter, suffocating, and his knees pressed painfully against the hard floorboards.

“You know, I was thinking…” Daniel’s words wove themselves between ragged breaths. “You keep flirting with Lestat. Hostility as foreplay? am I right? It's a good tactic I gotta admit. ” He knew exactly when to draw blood, he seemed to always express his most honest feelings when Armand was most vulnerable, unable to speak.

Armand’s muffled sound was half protest, half choke.

“Right.” Daniel’s thrusts deepened, sharpened. “Do you want him to fuck you ? Is that it?” He tightened the grip on Armand's hair. 

Armand’s eyes widened, incredulous at the suggestion.

“You don't have to speak ...” Daniel whispered against his curls. “I can smell it on you when you’re turned on, like a hot sticky perfume on your skin. So don’t insult me with denial.”

His pace quickened until at last he broke, "Is that what you want? To be fucked silly by Lestat. You're no different than those fangirls are you? You all want a piece of him!" He groaned, spilling across Armand’s face in a ruinous display; a mural painted in humiliation and dominance.

Armand collapsed to the ground, breathless, curls matted and damp, streaked with blood and saliva that ran down his chin and along the pale column of his throat.

“Was that your attempt at proving something?” His soft voice was hoarse, but still carried a faint defiance. "Was this a punishment?"

“Did I prove it?” Daniel’s tone dripped with arrogance. He still clutched Armand’s hair, forcing his head back to look up at him. "No, not a punishment. Not yet."

“There is no foreplay Daniel. Don’t be childish. He doesn't mean anything to me.” Armand wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, weary.

“Say it again,” Daniel demanded, yanking his head up. His face was so close Armand could feel the heat of his breath. “But this time… make it convincing."

“Okay, okay I suppose I shouldn’t have flirted with Lestat. I appologize, I'm sorry." The words came quickly. "I shouldn't have."

"Exactly.” Daniel’s smile returned, wide and satisfied. "That's a good boy." , He kissed Armand’s forehead. “Don’t do it again. Ever. "

“May I tend to my guests now?” Armand asked, wrecked and disheveled on the floor. "I need to speak to the staff."

“You may.” Daniel’s grin stretched at the sight. “Maybe a little less flirting this time? Huh?" He reached down, helping Armand to his feet with surprising gentleness. He pulled out a folded napkin from his pocket and began to clean the scarlet streaks from Armand’s face.

“Gentle hands after treating me like a common whore, some would call it true love." Armand tilted his head.

“It might be.” Daniel’s voice was smooth, content, almost tender.

“Don’t be a fool, Daniel. Romance died long ago, lost with the smoke of burning cities, drowned on blood-slicked shores.” Armand turned his gaze away, his huge eyes fixed on the wooden door as though staring through centuries.

Daniel dabbed at the crimson stains with precision. “Oh, but you did love once, didn’t you? Louis. Even Lestat, once upon a melodramatic midnight?”

“I suppose I did,” Armand answered, voice low. “And it brought nothing but ruin.” His brow arched delicately, making him appear younger, almost childlike.

“Ruin,” Daniel muttered, snorting softly. “If by ruin you mean hacking off a man’s arms and then torching his daughter in front of him, sure. Let’s call it ruin. Love does bring out the wild side in ya, doesn’t it?”

“That is unfair.” Armand’s voice tightened, laced with wounded dignity. “I loved them. I would have killed for them-”

“If only they’d loved you back the same way?” Daniel cut in, one brow cocked, the words filled with irony.

Armand gave the smallest of nods, a brief "yes".

Daniel sighed. “Look, babe. Whatever this thing is between us, it’s not the grand opera you keep hoping for. From where I’m standing, you wouldn’t recognize love if it walked up and kissed you on the mouth.”

“I'm I so dramatic, Daniel?” Armand brushed dust from his sleeve, adjusting his shirt with care.

“I mean, you’re a theater kid. Not exactly a leap,” Daniel replied, pale hands shoved into his pockets.

“And you’re a writer,” Armand countered, lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Writers always assume the world craves their opinions.”

Daniel leaned closer, blocking his path. “Sharp tongue for such a pretty head.”

“Stop. I have guests to attend,” Armand said evenly.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He hesitated, eyes narrowing. “And for the record, I don’t find closets particularly appealing. Especially if I'm the one doing the kneeling. "

“Fair,” Daniel said with a laugh, brushing a stray curl from Armand's lashes. “So what does appeal to you, boss?”

“Comfort.” Armand lifted a brow, noticing a dark stain spreading across his sleeve. Blood. His expression tightened. “Cleanliness. Sheets. A bed. Not too much to ask, is it Daniel?” His gaze deepened.

Daniel shrugged. “I dunno. I’m more of a ‘gas station restroom, backseat of a car’ kinda guy. Spontaneity. I was never built for planning.”

“I know.”

“Beds are boring anyway. You can’t get creative on a queen-size.”

“A queen-size bed is actually-”

Daniel silenced him with a finger pressed to his lips. “Shh. Y'know what? I’ve got an idea. And don’t give me those judgy orange Bambi eyes.” He grinned.

Armand folded his arms, waiting.

“Motel,” Daniel announced, proud.

“A motel?” Armand repeated, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“Yup. Sheets. Faded wallpaper. Tiny soap bars. No lube, though. I know you’d like that one.” Daniel winked.

“Daniel.” Armand licked his fangs, his lips pressed together. "Stop it." 

“Tell me that doesn’t sound fun huh? You, fucked against a sink, water dripping, mirror fogging up ? c’mon. I know you can be nasty." 

“Daniel.” Armand’s voice sharpened, his eyes flicking over Daniel’s shoulder. "Stop talking right now."

“What?” Daniel turned.

Lestat was leaning into the doorway, wrapped in a blue silk robe. His grin was wide, feral. “Dirty talk in a janitor’s closet? You’ve changed, Armand.” His tone dripped with amusement, every word feline. "I'd cheer you both on but I'm never been a fan of voyeurism." He looked at Armand. 

Armand stiffened, darting a glance between them. “Your drinks, right." he muttered, moving toward the door. Lestat barred the way with a lazy arm.

“You reek of cum,” he said, smiling like a cat. “Charming.”

“Laisse-moi passer. Ne sois pas agaçant.” (Let me pass, don't be annoying." Armand’s patience frayed.

“Détends-toi ma puce, je ne mords pas,”(Relax sweetheart, I don't bite) Lestat purred, finally stepping aside.

“But I do,” Daniel muttered, catching the meaning too late.

“If you want to fuck me, Daniel, just say it.” Lestat shook his head, a contorted expression on his face whenever he saw the old man turned vampire 

Then in a second, he was gone, dissolving into the dark as if he’d never stood there at all.

"Wh-what?" Daniel muttered to himself, confused. "Fucking Lestat." He said before he too floated through the dim lit hallway.