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Armand slid open the teak door to their en suite and was hit by a wave of curling steam. Scattered candles flickered valiantly against the lush humidity.
Louis looked gorgeous in the soft light as he stood underneath the primary shower head in their open concept bathroom - never that term, never ever a wet room - staring down towards the floor, one knee bent and resting on the wood bench that ran the length of the far wall. Even through the haze, the beauty of the body before him made Armand’s heart clench, the water tracing down his torso and over his flexed arm like it, too, wished to worship him.
“May I join you?” Armand asked, lingering.
“Of course.” Louis looked up as Armand crossed the threshold. “The steam –” he gestured at the open door, “it’s going to warp the Carrington.”
Armand quickly obeyed, pulling it shut behind him, then leisurely stripped, discarding his clothes in the woven hamper by the door. In their last long-term home, Armand had insisted their master bedroom include a small laundry nook - a stacked washer and dryer, always ready and easy enough to operate. They’d skipped the staff and found the privacy and quiet intimacy of being left to themselves a worthwhile retreat.
The penthouse’s minimalism had been a deliberate choice - for their wellbeing - but Armand sometimes missed their self sufficiency, missed the warmth of clutter, the ease of things within reach, of not needing to summon a servant to fetch them a spare toothbrush or clean towels.
“We should really swap it out with something more water resistant,” Louis continued. “Like one of the Kapoors.”
He straightened and leaned back against the warmed stone wall. No matter how many decades abroad, Louis still gave himself away as an American - always leaning, always casual. Armand crossed the room, stepping under the spray in front of him. Water washed over his face, soaking his gelled curls, before he glanced at Louis.
“What have you been up to, in here? It’s been over an hour.”
Louis made a face, but let out a short laugh.
“Are we worried about the utilities now?”
“You know very well that’s not what I meant, Louis.”
Louis stared at him, processing something unspoken. It was one of his many weight-of-the-world looks, and Armand worried to see it from him now.
“What’s going on?” Armand asked, and Louis shook his head immediately.
“Nothing like you’re thinking,” Louis denied quickly, and Armand felt a featherlight brush against his thoughts. “At all.” Louis shook his head again, then found Armand’s eyes with his stunning green gaze - tentative, uncharacteristically nervous.
“Do you want to see something really stupid?”
Armand stayed still, brows furrowing in confusion, uncertain at his meaning. Louis pushed off from the wall and stood in front of him - legs apart, chest out, but no longer meeting his look.
“I was doing this.” He bent his knees slightly and began to swing his hips back and forth like a rattle drum. And just like a bead on the string, his soft dick began to flop from side to side, slapping against one thigh then the other.
Armand found his jaw slackening in surprise.
“…Why?” The question slipped out - not hostile, not supportive - but genuinely confused.
Louis stopped his hip isolations abruptly and sighed. “I told you it was stupid.”
“No, Louis -” Armand began.
“- I was thinking of my human years. The little oddities we lose touch with, as we grow in the Blood,” Louis interrupted, then took a deep breath. “And I was thinking of Paul. We used to smack each other with rolled up towels, used to chase Grace ‘round the house with giant cicadas cause she’d scream and laugh. And we used to do this. And other strange things. We were children.”
Armand’s stomach dropped. Louis so rarely let himself enjoy anything anymore - let alone reminiscing on his past with that kind of warmth and easy fondness. Not since Paris. Even before everything, he’d carried an obvious burden, but then he was in good company in those years. All of Paris wore her scars like the latest fashion.
But the memories shared were not ones Armand could easily relate to. Oh, certainly, he’d had his share of youthful frivolities in his early years. He could vaguely recall a similar moment with Ricardo in the baths, messing about with towels - but they were rare. Most of his indulgences had carried the fierce and angry strain of teenage rebellion, and been more adult in nature. Getting into fights, fucking people his Master wouldn’t approve of, sniping at his tutors.
Moments of easeful silliness were few and far between. There had been more, he supposed, in the years of the Théâtre. But Louis wouldn’t want to hear about that.
Experimentally, Armand swung his hips under the water. The stream dripped through his pubic hair, and his cock mimicked Louis’ - flopping back and forth, flinging a spray of droplets onto both Louis and the slick wall.
Louis laughed and palmed the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Armand stepped into him, pressing his body against the full length of his lover’s. It had been a while since they indulged in such easy affection - let alone enjoyed time together without the weight of the upcoming interview, or the melancholy Louis often battled through his pain and submission.
Armand felt a stirring in his groin and swallowed, hopeful Louis wouldn’t notice the signal of his interest. He pulled away, turning his face into the pouring water and closing his eyes.
The hand resting suddenly on his waist surprised him - as did the feeling of Louis’ body against his back a moment later. He smoothed down his hair and blinked the water from his eyes, as Louis wrapped an arm around him, palm pressing firmly against his stomach, just below his navel.
"Louis."
Louis smiled and leaned in around his shoulder for another kiss, longer and fulfilling, his tongue pressing between Armand’s lips. Pleased, Armand responded with slow, searching strokes of his own, caressing the welcome invader and shivering as his fangs dropped. Armand felt him gently graze the tip of one with the point of his tongue before Louis pulled away.
“I know we’re in the shower, but… can we leave off with blood? Just this once,” Louis murmured, smoothing his hand over Armand’s wet chest and placing a peck on his jaw.
Armand nodded. If Louis was trying to capture something - a memory, a feeling - he was willing to indulge it. Though, he was fairly certain neither of them had the pleasure of showers, let alone omnidirectional shower heads, in their human years.
He turned and reached for their amber and oud body wash, pumping a generous amount into his hand. Then he sank to his knees.
No blood in the shower seemed like a bit of a waste, given the ease of cleanup, but he set the thought aside and began to lather Louis’ leg, running his hands firmly up and down the lightly haired skin, massaging the tight calf on each downstroke.
He duplicated the effort on the other leg, then gently lifted Louis’ foot to clean between his toes. For a while, in the early aughts, Louis had developed the habit of shaving everything daily - even the little digits. Armand had missed the feel of the wiry hairs against his tongue and felt grateful that phase had come to an end, as he learned forward and delicately sucked on the big toe.
Louis let out a hiss and Armand looked up, squinting against the water running down his face, to meet his eyes.
Between them, Louis’ previously soft cock was filling out, already halfway hard. Armand released his foot and reached for the other, once again washing, caressing, and sucking, as the length he so adored rose to greet him. He didn’t need to check between his own legs - touching and serving Louis always stirred him - and he could feel the press of his hard-on against his creased stomach.
Setting Louis’ foot down, he dragged his hands up along the back of his legs, squeezing his thighs, then leaned forward to gently suck Louis’ foreskin into his mouth.
“Armand, you don’t have to..” Louis began, as Armand tongued the small space beneath, pressing against the firm rounded head it sheltered.
He pulled off after a moment.
“It’s best to be thorough when cleaning,” he replied in his best prim tone. He gently nudged Louis back against the bench and encouraged him to sit, shuffling forward on his knees across the wet shower floor and stopping between his parted legs. “It’s easier to reach if you sit,” he added, demonstrating with a reach upward to caress Louis’ taut, brown nipples as he returned to sucking.
Armand watched, heavy-lidded, as Louis lifted his arms, stretching each tricep behind his head before relaxing. One hand settled on Armand’s bent crown, threading his fingers through damp curls, the other gripped the edge of the bench. Louis tilted his head back, the long stretch of his throat exposed, droplets condensing on his skin.
God, he was so beautiful.
Armand felt the itch in his fangs build again and pulled away from the now fully erect cock to shift position, resting his head against Louis’ thigh and bringing a hand down to massage his balls.
“Do you..” he began, unsure.
“Do I what?” Louis asked lazily, peering down at him.
Armand swallowed. Why he felt shy was beyond him. Louis was in a good mood, and when he was, he never hesitated to say what he wanted, what he needed from him. Why was it so difficult to do the same?
“I want to see you come, my love. Do you want to finish like this?”
Louis raised an eyebrow. Armand knew it was out of character for him to ask, let alone interrupt himself to do so.
“You don’t want someth-“
“No! I just want to see you. This is good; this is fine.”
Louis laughed, easily cupping his face with one large hand, brushing the wet hair off his forehead.
“Armand” he paused. “I know it’s been,” he frowned slightly, thinking, “a while.” He looked momentarily chagrined. “It’s been a while. But hopefully we’re still aiming for better than fine." Louis pulled on his shoulders until Armand kneeled up, then leaned down to kiss him.
“What were you going to ask? Tell me the truth.” Louis looked into his eyes and Armand felt momentarily lost, a bit overwhelmed by his penetrating stare.
He knelt back again, resting on his heels, the water flowing down his back a grounding warmth. He reached again for Louis, slowly pumping his hand along his spit-slicked length.
Louis asked for the truth, but.
Armand felt his heart pound, longing twisting in his gut, frustration at himself building thanks to his contradictory desires.
“I know you said no blood, but…” he trailed off.
“Go on now.”
“May I bite you, Louis?” he asked softly, bracing for rejection. His free hand slid up the familiar thigh, massaging his favorite spot - where the skin was thin and the artery below nearly visible. “It’s been so long since I’ve tasted you here.”
Louis raised an eyebrow and reached for his jaw, startling him as he pressed his pointer finger against his swollen lips, parting them. Armand allowed him to open his mouth, Louis gently pulling down on his bottom teeth.
“Show me your fangs, baby.”
Armand let them drop in relief. The throb in his gums had started to outweigh the ache in his groin.
Louis pressed his finger against one, pushing until the sharp point pierced the tip, blood beading up immediately. He pulled his finger away, pausing to contemplate the drop, before carefully dragging a line across Armand’s chest. The blood instantly spread, dissolving into tiny swirls and rivulets in the water, even as the little streams of red worked their way down.
Louis smiled. He returned his hand to the wet curls, drawing Armand’s head down again - but shifted direction, pushing his face away from his hard length and toward the soft expanse of thigh just to the side, spreading his legs a little further.
“Well,” Louis spoke after a moment, shaking Armand out of his appreciative stupor, “you wanted a drink. Bite.”
Armand did as he was bid and bit down, thrilled at the easy and rare permission - savoring the picture Louis made, relaxed and wet, enjoying the steam-filled room in the diffuse candlelight.
The flood of rich blood, the undiluted taste of Louis full of his love and contentment, was a reawakening. It had been so long. Armand withdrew his fangs and sucked the skin, latching onto the rich pulse. Louis let out a quiet moan at the sensation.
As he drank, Armand quickened his hand on Louis’ cock, speeding up his strokes while Louis’ abdomen flexed in involuntary ripples, and with his free hand, he rolled the tight balls below.
He could taste the delicious flood of endorphins and oxytocin as Louis approached his peak. The slightly tangy taste turned sweet, both flavors richer and more precious than any prized vintage in the cellar.
Louis.
He reached out with his mind as Louis bucked up against him. The pleasure he could sense through his thoughts was intense. Armand took another deep drink, swallowing greedily to keep up with the flow, and shifted his hands - one continuing with the strong strokes, the other held open-palmed against the tip, letting the slickness build and the small thrusts create delightful friction.
Louis. I want to see you. You taste so good.
“You feel good too, baby,” Louis grunted low, almost a growl. Armand felt nails scratch at his scalp, slightly too rough.
Armand unlatched for a moment, the blood flowing down Louis’ thigh into the crease of his groin. Armand dragged his tongue along the branching red streams, licking away the beautiful fractal pattern created on the wet skin. In his hand, Armand felt Louis’ cock swell and took the leaking tip into his mouth.
Louis groaned and hissed through his teeth as he came. Armand gave a strong pull and eager swallow, the taste of Louis’s pleasure flooding his mouth - a pleasant digestif. In his own lap, he gave himself a sharp squeeze and worked his hand on his length. It was only a moment before felt himself peak - the pleasure of Louis’ blood and release fueling his own, tipping him over the edge.
Louis gripped his shoulders, rubbing his thumbs along his collarbones, and helped him to his feet. The intensity in his eyes caught Armand off guard. Louis smirked and pressed a kiss against his stomach, then stood up.
“Thank you, baby,” he said teasingly, as he walked Armand back under the flowing water. “Come here.”
Armand felt his heart flutter as Louis stepped in closer, pressing their bodies flush, wrapping his arms around him. Armand leaned into his solid warmth and pressed their foreheads together.
The water washed the blood from their bodies, as they cuddled underneath it.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Louis,” Armand said quietly into his ear. “It brings me joy to see you smile.”
Louis nodded against him, then pulled back to glance around the room. Armand followed his look.
“What’s the point of our millions,” Louis asked, a slow smile forming, “if we don’t run up the water bill now and again?”
Armand let out a surprised laugh and gave him a quick kiss, then returned to the simple joy of Louis in his arms - warm and steady in the steam.