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Prologue
Daniel shifted to press closer to Armand. They’d been watching gameshow episodes all day. Armand had been taping them for months, organizing them by how much he disliked the winner, and showing them to Daniel to see if he agreed. He liked watching Armand rewind the tapes with his mind when they swapped them out, the quick whir of it. Daniel offered to do one himself and Armand had laughed as Daniel struggled to wedge his fingers into the spools and spin it back. But he’d kissed Daniel when he was done and thanked him. Daniel had been reveling in the praise ever since.
Somehow, Daniel felt more exhausted than he did on their usual nights out despite having woken up only hours ago. Armand was on his couch when he got out of bed, watching. Daniel had shuddered, felt his knees go weak. And, really, at that point why not let his legs give out. Why not crawl across the floor boards until he could rest his cheek on Armand’s knee and simply look at him? Armand had pet his hair fondly, let him kneel until his joints ached, then pulled him up onto the couch. Only mere hours ago and Daniel felt he could fall into the best sleep he’d had in weeks.
Maybe it was just the darkness, the lights they’d never bothered to turn on once it got dark. Maybe it was simply being close. A safety and calmness Daniel rarely felt.
“Are you tired, beloved?” Armand’s eyes were trained on him. They were glowing more than usual, locked in rapt attention from his shows. A flicker of annoyance interrupted that focus as a police siren rang out. The blinds were fucked from Armand climbing through the window a few weeks back, so the lights washed Armand in glowy colors. An inhuman look and all the better for it.
“Nah.” Daniel denied, then caught himself yawning a second later. Armand pinched his side and Daniel yelped. He gave Armand his most betrayed expression. And yeah, Armand knew it was an act, but he still tucked his hand under Daniel’s sweater to soothe the sting.
“Why are you lying, Daniel?”
Daniel groaned and buried himself in Armand’s neck. “Why do you ask if I’m tired when you already know the answer?”
Armand hummed. He pulled his hand from Daniel’s shirt. A loss. An unfair loss. Daniel was ready to protest, but he was stifled by Armand's mouth on his. Just a soft, chaste kiss. Tenderness. This was tenderness. He loved it, loved Armand.
“I love you too,” Armand guided him to relax against his shoulder again. “Would you like to go to bed?”
“I’d rather stay here,” Daniel closed his eyes. “Keep watching, boss, just gonna take a nap.
“A nap.” Armand repeated, and Daniel could hear the faint smile in it. “Take your rest, beloved. I will be here when you wake.”
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There was a lot Daniel could say about the Talamasca. Almost entirely bad. He’d drain them all if consequences weren’t a thing. They’d taken advantage of him after the interview just to get an over-edited vampire exposé without doing the work. They were all shitheads, but they gave him back the files he had in Dubai. There was some sketchy alternative motive there that Daniel couldn’t bring himself to care about at the moment.
Not with the screen glowing faintly in front of him, promising answers. He only clicked the Paramours folder because it was there. He would take anything that explained why he’d been turned and left to suffer the growing pains on his own. Over 200 image files appeared, sorted by date. He sighed, scrolled, and opened the first one his cursor landed on.
What the fuck?
Armand in a faded AC/DC shirt. Daniel knew he had that exact shirt buried in the back of his closet. Old and worn with holes along the seams. A sleep shirt, a comfort he’d never been able to get rid of. Why would Armand have it? And, more fucking notably, why was his own goddamn self out cold against Armand’s side? And embarrassingly drooling at that, all human and gross next to Armand’s statuesque form.
Sharp pain invaded his head, followed by a litany of feelings he didn’t understand. The pain reared, and his mind filled with a slideshow of images running like a flipbook. Not smoothed out into a memory, not yet. Armand, from the perspective of the tired 20-something slumped against him. Beautiful, monstrous.
Take your rest, beloved.
The words ricocheted around his skull, ringing out and taking over every other thought. Real. It all felt real at once. Leveled out and slotting into the achy gaps in Daniel’s mind. A singular thought scraped it’s way out of the mess: 12 fucking years.
Daniel pushed away from his laptop, paced around the room. This was just another lie. Steins in an old box of photos. Blank scripts. He opened his chat with the Talamasca and sent a slew of curses and questions their way. Accused them of being in Armand’s pocket all along. When his phone rang a minute later, he had to take a breath to tamp down the urge to chuck it across the room. What were they playing at?
“Hello,” he growled.
“Hello Mr. Molloy.”
“Oh? Real Rashid, didn’t think I’d hear from you again.” His tone was biting. “What, is Raglan too busy to deal with little ol’ me?”
Rasid sighed, long-suffering. “I see that you’ve finally opened the Paramours folder.”
“Yeah. And if I’d done so sooner, I could have saved time putting up with any of you in the first place.” Daniel stared at his laptop. A knot formed in his stomach. “What is this supposed to be? Some sort of prank?”
“Our records are all accurate, Mr. Molloy. If you need further evidence to corroborate the photos, you can visit our archives again.”
Physical artifacts. Yes, that’s what he needed. Surely they wouldn’t be that committed to fucking with him.
Daniel huffed a laugh, “Corralling me again? What do you need this time?”
“On occasion, your interests align with the Talamasca’s.”
“Oh? And what exactly are my interests?”
“Well,” Rashid paused, seemed to think over his words carefully. “I would imagine finding The Vampire Armand.”
He hung up and gave into the urge to throw his phone. It shattered against the wall. Another wave of pain had him reeling. That telephone, I want you to dial Paris. An immortal idiot. Daniel could hear the conversation. It settled into his mind. Yes, he had said that once.
There was more in the Paramours folder. Always more with these fucking vampires. Never just an interview, never just an easy escape from a penthouse. He clicked on the next image, letting it grace him in fullscreen.
Him and Armand again, holding hands in a park. The headache grew with a vengeance.
***
Bullshit. Daniel was standing outside the ‘secret’ Talamasca headquarters in New York. The fucking Schwarzman Building. He made his way straight for an empty hallway easily concealed from public view. And there it was, the nondescript locked door that could be passed off as a closet. Fucking bullshit.
It unlocked when he knocked and he glanced around to flip off the nearest camera before going in. He mindfucked the first few agents he saw, just for fun. Made them forget what they were doing. It was the least they deserved.
“Daniel Molloy,” Raglan appeared. “Good to have you back. I hear you’re interested in visiting the archives.”
“Fuck you.” Daniel replied, already picking the location he needed from another agent’s head. He started towards the archives.
“You know, we don’t do favors.” Raglan followed. “If you’re going to look for Armand using our information, then I expect to receive updates on your progress.”
Daniel laughed, “Sure thing.”
“And once you’ve found him, you could—”
“Don’t push it.” Daniel let his fangs drop. Raglan stopped talking, but seemed otherwise unfazed. “Get lost, I don’t need you here for this.”
“If that’s what you want. If you need anything, Rashid is here today.” Raglan smiled, no emotion behind it. “He’ll be happy to help.”
Jesus fucking christ that guy sucked. Daniel waited for him to be out of sight before taking in the archives. Anti-climatic really. A room of shelves and file cabinets. A little computer set up in one corner. Flickering fluorescent lights from hell. Daniel focused, tried to take out the first row to give his fledgling senses a break. Half the lights in the room shattered. He winced. Well, they deserved it.
The computer was his best bet. He clicked around until he found what seemed to be a spreadsheet logging every artifact in the room. Ctrl-F came up with nothing for Molloy. Nothing for Armand. What kind of system were they using? He threw the mouse at the monitor, feeling vindicated when it sent cracks through the glass.
“Mr. Molloy.”
Daniel whirled around. He needed to get better at evening out his senses. It was either constant chaos or Daniel blocking the world out. The balance was never quite right. He was a vampire, people should not be able to sneak up on him. He tried opening his mind more, and was immediately overwhelmed. He shut it back down.
“Rashid.” Daniel nodded. “What brings you here? Raglan James?”
“No, I just thought these might be of assistance.” Rashid gestured to a cart full of folders and boxes. “It’s from our private archives.”
Ah. So much for figuring things out on his own. Daniel picked up the closest one and flipped through it. It was one of his articles. “By Daniel Molloy” was printed under the headline in slightly smudged typewriter ink. He tried not to think about the invasiveness of it all. Where the fuck had they gotten this? Digging through his trash?
“Big whoop, you’ve got my shitty first drafts.”
Rashid grabbed a familiar item from the cart. Armand’s trial script, red lining the margins. “If you compare the handwriting, you might find it interesting, Mr. Molloy. If you need anything else, I’ll be three doors to the left.”
Daniel scanned his draft, and yeah, there were notes all along the sides. Snarky comments interrupted by the rare compliment. Armand’s handwriting. The telltale headache was coming back.
“Hey,” Daniel called after Rashid. “Why help me? Not because Raglan said so, he was content to just leave me in here when the good stuff was hidden somewhere else.”
“Things are changing, Mr. Molloy,” Rashid said. “And there are some people better to have on your side than against you.”
“Cryptic.” Daniel deadpanned. “We’re not on the same side by the way.”
Rashid just smiled and nodded, “Good luck with your research, Mr. Molloy.”
***
It was real. Sure they could fake pictures, especially digital ones, but some of this stuff… They had at least twenty of the original first drafts of his articles, all marked up with Armand’s messy scrawl. An old blender with a crack across the glass. Countless photos and polaroids that would take too much effort to fake on the Talamasca’s part because why the fuck would they care? And Armand looked radiant in every one. Daniel looked every inch the stupid boy he was in his 20s, out of place next to Armand’s immortal presence. He thought back to the first picture. Nothing made sense.
He shuffled through the items on the cart, looking for something different. He found it buried beneath papers and tucked in a plastic bag labeled “handle with care” and “biohazard”. Very Armand already. Daniel upturned it into his palm. The metal hit his skin and seemed to ring out across time. An awful sadness seeped into him, tears stinging at his eyes. The pain didn’t stop in his head, this time. It shot out across his body until he was empty of all besides a resounding ache.
This will protect you when we’re not together. Please wear it, beloved.
A golden locket with engravings dancing across it. Daniel didn’t need to flip it over to know there was an “A” carved there. Didn’t need to open it to know about the vile that hid inside. Didn’t need to, but…
He sniffed at the locket, flicked it open, and yes. That was Armand’s blood. Immistakable even more now than when Daniel had been drinking it regularly. An amulet, that’s what Armand called it. There was no way to fabricate it. It was Daniel’s. How dare the fucking Talamasca get their hands on it?
Emotions bigger than Daniel had dealt with in years were welling up. It was more than he could handle. He felt like his brain was being stabbed with a thousand tiny needles and he couldn’t keep his vampiric senses in control. The world was starting to spin. Shit. He was not having a breakdown in the Talamasca headquarters of all places. He had to leave, but all the shit he needed was here. Daniel longed to put the amulet on, but it felt off when he went to unclasp it. That wasn’t his job. Instead, he shoved it in his pocket. He didn’t want to be there anymore.
Daniel stole the whole cart. He mindfucked his way out of the building and wheeled it through New York until he was home. There was so much he’d forgotten. So much he still didn’t know, like why the hell he’d forgotten in the first place. Armand, obviously, but why? A messy break up? The thought stung in all the right places, another memory coming with it. Yelling. Daniel had been high and saying stupid shit while missing every tell on Armand’s face. It faded as fast as it came, but the feelings lingered. What was he supposed to do with all this?
Easy answer, really. Daniel could never resist a story. He shoved his furniture out of the way so he had room to work and began organizing all his sources. An attempt at chronology despite the wide gaps still aching to be filled. The photos helped, the way he aged in them while Armand stayed the same. Is that why Armand took it all away? Daniel’s withering?
The timeline was fractured, but in the end his oldest point was in 1973, the photos from the first interview. The last was in fucking 1985. Over a decade. And there was so much more left on the cart, things he didn’t know how to place, but felt a dire attachment to. He dug around until he found the physical photo of them on the couch and stared at it.
12 years. He looked peaceful, in his mortal sleep. And Armand seemed different. In every memory, every photo, he wasn’t the elegant vampire Daniel met in Dubai. Less tension. Why pretend it never happened?
The twin feelings of his life coming together and falling apart was too fucking much. But he needed answers. He grabbed the next folder labeled “Night Island”. And, oh, that one had a specific sort of hurt. A longing for a place he couldn’t even picture in his head. He cursed when he noticed tears running down his cheeks. He was going to ruin his sources. Irreplaceable things, really. Things that made no sense and all sense in the world.
But no matter what he looked at, no matter what memories found their way home, he couldn’t figure out why things ended. And that was the worst part. They were happy. He knew it in his bones.
Daniel grabbed his wallet and tucked the photo of them on the couch inside. He took a deep breath. Slow down. Get the story straight. He needed to clear his head. Get a snack. Daniel went out to hunt. He took his time until he was teetering the knife’s edge of sunrise. And that made it easy to sleep. Reset. In the morning, Daniel was going to make a plan.
***
Daniel, are you sure this is a good idea?
Louis. Always worrying, but never bothering to visit Daniel in New York. Not that Daniel had made any efforts at reuniting just yet either. Too busy with the book and, for the past month, life-changing revelations. Not that Louis knew about that second part. Was there a right time to tell your friend that you not only used to bang his ex, but also fell desperately in love with him?
Yeah. Daniel still wasn’t used to vampire radio. There used to be only one monster in his head and now… well it wouldn’t be that way again. It's just a press tour, I’ll be fine. Done it before.
Never with a target on your back.
Daniel laughed. You’d be surprised.
Just be careful, Daniel.
He was not going to do that. Yeah, of course.
The point was risk. Daniel was becoming the biggest annoyance of his career, which was saying something. Old patterns. If Armand wanted to disappear randomly, then Daniel could bring back the good old days too. Draw Armand out by putting himself in danger. At least this time the danger wasn’t himself. Stupid 20-year old Daniel. Starving himself, sleeping on benches, taking whatever he could get his hands on. Just to call for Armand to take him back at the brink of death. And for what? To prove a point? Dumbass.
Daniel had no intention to die a second time. And Armand surely didn’t want that either considering the turning and all. So he would call out to Armand the only way he could with the mental wall between them. By being a prick on late night television.
He was never getting invited back to the first few programs he did. Too “raunchy” now, according to his agent. After those, a few vampires far weaker than him had come knocking. Killing them was easy, he even let them struggle a bit first, call out with the mind gift so Armand might hear it. And if he didn’t, the social media frenzy would be enough to get his attention. But there was still no sign of him. Other vamps, sure. He could sense them, how they burnt to ash in the alleys where they waited to attack. So, either his fledgling prowess was so great that other vamps felt the need to self-immolate before him, or Armand was protecting him at a distance. Not good enough. He had to raise the stakes.
“This is quite the departure from your previous work.” The interviewer was trying to bait him into a viral moment. He was lucky Daniel wanted that. Daniel could smell the blood running through his veins. God, he was starving.
“It’s not that different. A deep dive into some messed up shit that’s been going on under our noses is my whole brand.”
“Vampires, that is. You’ve never written fic—”
“Not fiction. These vampires are real. There's even more of them out there. They’re just too scared to show their faces. Cowards, really.”
A nagging at his mind broke through his attempted shield. It was so much harder to control the mind gift with other vamps. Harder when the studio lights were bearing down on him, hot and hurting his eyes even behind his sunglasses. The constant flitting around of the PA between crew members. He felt his mental walls chip away.
Daniel. Louis chastised.
Not now, I’m busy.
He continued, “But that doesn’t really matter because even if they did talk to me, they wouldn’t be half as interesting as the ones I did speak with.”
Daniel, what are you doing?
Sweet of you to watch my promos, man, but I’m busy right now. He snapped his mind shut as tight as he could manage. It was enough for Louis to get the message and back off.
“So yeah,” he smiled at the interviewer, “vampires. But what are they gonna do about it? I got more threats from the Enron book than this.”
“Right.” The man gave the camera a look. The ‘poor, senile old man’ look. That’s dinner sorted. He’d been good and not killed any of the hosts yet. One couldn’t hurt.
It was an easy kill. Daniel dumped his body in the alley behind the studio. A prickle ran down his spine. Fledgling instinct to cower at vampires older than him. Ah, finally. He turned and found three shadowy figures waiting for him.
“Hey guys,” he grinned. “Want an autograph?”
Evidently, they were not amused. He had the nepo-fledgling advantage, but three on one was never going to be easy. Well, two on three really if Armand would just show himself. And, yes. He could feel Armand there, the little tug in his chest from the vampire bond. But the asshole wasn’t coming out.
Daniel sent one of the vampires flying into the wall. His skull cracked against the bricks, but he seemed unfazed, ready to pounce again. Okay, so maybe these vampires were more powerful than the first ones. He fought off another, but could sense the difference in their power as he grew tired. Was Armand really so reluctant to show himself that he’d let Daniel get hurt? Before Daniel could react, claws raked across his face.
“Fuck,” he used his vamp-speed to duck behind the dumpster and reevaluate. Because if Armand wasn’t going to help, Daniel was going to die. He’d never factored that into the equation. Maybe their breakup really had been that bad and Armand wanted to watch him get torn apart. It was loud, they were saying something. Out loud or in his head? The gross scent of the dumpster was too strong, the flickering light behind him too present. Fucking fledging senses.
It took a moment for Daniel to realize the noise had stopped, all except for a strange wet squelch. He peeked out, eyes tracking across two piles of ash, and one blood-covered Armand holding a severed head. Holy shit.
“Hi, boss.” He said dumbly. And maybe he wasn’t all that different from the 70s, caught tongue-tied as he took in Armand’s monstrousness.
Armand’s glowing eyes blinked to him. His face was spotted with bits of gore. He tossed the head to the side and it burst into flames. In less than a second, Daniel found himself yanked out of his hiding place.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Armand pushed him back against the wall, eyes wild. “Do you have a death wish, fledgling?”
“Nah. Already died once, that was enough for me. Nice to see you, by the way. It’s only been what? Around two years? Or should I say more like 40?” He waited for an answer. Armand just stared, unblinking. “Nothing to say to that, boss?”
Armand released him, stepped back. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Take a guess,” Daniel watched as Armand’s eyes flickered between honey-brown and bright orange.
“You’re taunting me for some idiotic reason.”
Daniel grabbed his wallet, produced the creep-shot the Talamasca took through their window. “Take another guess.”
The photo had found a home in his wallet. When the melancholy set in too strong after gaining a new memory, he pulled it out, stared at the happy calm radiating from them and ached. Too common lately. He knew every detail of the picture. A sentimental sort of thing, keeping the photo with him. He’d never bothered to do with photos of his wives or daughters. He’d never really grown out of that callousness. But he didn’t want to be like that anymore. Not with Armand.
A feeling of panicked fear welled up so suddenly that Daniel had to catch himself against the wall. He cursed, tried to settle his nerves. He wasn’t asking his crush to prom for fucks sake, calm it. Except no amount of deep breaths cleared the feeling. It was only then he realized it wasn’t coming from him.
Armand snatched the picture away and lit a flame in his other palm.
“No!” Daniel gripped onto Armand’s wrist, keeping the fire away. As if that would stop Armand if he really wanted the photo gone. “Don’t you dare burn that.”
He gingerly plucked the photo from Armand’s fingers and tucked it away safely. The fear was morphing into a roiling nausea. All at once Armand was animated again, putting on an aloof face and looking over Daniel. Another mask for the collection. But Daniel hadn’t even done anything to warrant that response! At least not that he could recall.
“What do you remember?” Armand was playing a game. Wanted to turn the narrative in his favor, whatever that meant. Not this time.
“Everything.” Daniel lied. He’d guess it was really like 60% and only good memories at that. The rest was a whiplash of feelings. Ask him if he had loved Armand: a resounding yes. Ask him why it hurt to think about: nothing.
Armand nodded faintly, “So now what? You try to get yourself killed with this infernal book?”
“I already told you, I’m not interested in dying again. I was looking for you, asshole.” His stomach turned. “Fuck, boss, can you try and calm down a bit.”
The bond slammed closed. That didn’t feel any better. Armand’s mask was slipping with the effort to suppress his emotions. His eyes were shaking and his face was utterly blank. Daniel stepped forward cautiously, freezing when Armand visibly flinched.
“What do you intend to do now, Daniel?” Armand’s voice was steady, fake.
“I…” Daniel trailed off. He was so confident in the plan, but now that it worked he had to figure out the point. Face the shit he’d been avoiding. All the feelings he shoved aside to deal with later.
“Would you like suggestions?” Armand’s mouth twisted into a terrible smile. “Others in your position have yelled. You could throw me against the bricks and leave me crippled for a day or so. Or perhaps you want to—”
“Stop talking.” Daniel ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not here to enact some sort of revenge.”
Why did Armand even think that? The gaps in his memory chafed against everything he did remember. The way he treated Alice when he needed a fix. How cruel he could be at times. And really, it's not like a couple cute photos meant they’d had a perfect relationship. Daniel didn’t have the track record for sunshine and rainbows. And his mind kept looping back to yelling. To the same old argument he couldn’t even remember outside of its repetition.
“Then what?” Armand was doing that nervous thing with his hand. Daniel could remember him doing it before. He got all these little details clearly but all the important bits, the context that explained why, were absent.
“We were in love.” Daniel suppressed a cringe. He hated shit like this. It felt too earnest for his age. For his jaded personality. How many times had he said “love” as an easy lie? More than he could count. But every memory he got… it wasn’t like that. Love. Maybe Daniel understood more about that than he ever thought.
“Yes.”
“And then…” Daniel gestured for Armand to finish the thought.
Armand just closed his eyes. “Is this not a punishment, Daniel? Force me to recount the wounds we’ve dealt each other? Don’t pretend you’re here for any other reason. What do you really want? An apology? I won’t apologize for taking it all away. It was killing you and I couldn’t bear to watch. If an apology is what you want, all I can offer is platitudes. I’m not sorry.”
“Okay. But should I be sorry?” Daniel felt stupid. Falling back into old habits instead of just being clear with someone. Now who was playing games, dancing around questions. He didn’t know where to place Armand’s lack of regret yet. “Look, when I said I remember everything, that might have been an overstatement.”
Daniel pulled the amulet from his pocket. “All I’ve got is a mess of feelings and some stuff that kickstarted my brain. I only remember bits and pieces. But I know what I was like back then. I know how much it all meant to me”
Armand’s eyes were locked on the amulet. Daniel pulled it back, not risking another arson attempt. “Where did you get that?”
“The Talamasca. I stole a bunch of our old stuff from them.”
Armand’s nose scrunched. “The lengths they go to ‘record history’ is baffling. You threw that into the ocean. They must have sent someone to fish it out.”
“I fucking threw—why would I do that?” Daniel couldn’t even bear to part with it when everything was a haze.
“You were angry at me, wanted to upset me. You said you were leaving for good and threw it off a pier.” Armand’s posture shifted at Daniel’s involuntary wounded sound. “That wasn’t the end though. You asked to return to me three months later. And, as always, I welcomed you back.”
“Okay.” Daniel pressed his hands to his eyes as a slideshow of similar fights flashed in his head. Of the moments he’d beg to come home. “So what was the end?”
Armand shifted his gaze to look just past Daniel. “You were gone for six months. It was 1985 and you were tired of begging to be turned. Instead, you turned further into drugs. While we were apart you starved yourself and slept outside. When I came to take you home, that time, I could see the wear on your body and deterioration of your mind. For some time I suspected you’d grown to love the blood, the idea of the Gift, over me. When you saw me, it was the first thing you asked for. I took you to a rehabilitation center and removed myself from your life. I was killing you, and it had to end.”
More flashes hit Daniel at once. Desperation and anguish rushing through his veins. The echoes of old aches in his stomach and snow falling as he slept. And Armand’s face. Oh, the way he looked at Daniel as cracks formed inside him. The way his smile was so sad when Daniel said he loved him.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
“You have no need to apologize. I was the one who inserted myself into your life and caused your decline.”
“No,” Daniel remembered blaming Armand back then. But it hadn't been his fault. “Fuck, boss, it was never you. I was careening towards an early grave before I even met you. I was selfish and impatient. I mean, hell, I still am, but at least I can admit it now. You were dating a junkie while having something better than heroin in your veins. Fuck.”
Armand looked at him strangely. “So is that it then? You sought me out to apologize?”
“I want…” Daniel sighed. He wanted more than he could put into words. “I want to take a walk. Stop avoiding me. Talk to me.”
Armand nodded solemnly, like this was some divine punishment he had to carry out. “If that’s what you want.”
Armand was silent as Daniel led them to quieter streets. Daniel didn’t know what to say either for once. He kept feeling the urge to bump their shoulders together, to hold hands, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Whatever this was, it mattered. So whether that meant fucking off out of each other’s lives for everyone’s good or… something else, he was going to think shit through first.
He considered it. He certainly wanted to hold Armand’s hand. What did it matter? What was the point of this silence when all he wanted was answers? Why deny themselves? Daniel bumped their hands together, testing the water. Armand didn’t react. At least not visually. The bond between them was still being stifled in Armand’s grip. He brushed their hands again.
“What are you doing?”
Daniel shrugged, “What feels right.”
He grabbed Armand’s hand properly, squeezed gently. “We used to hold hands.”
Armand stared at the point of contact. “Yes, Daniel, we used to. Apparently you felt ‘freer’ to do so in Paris.”
Ah, right, Louis had said that. “Wait, does he know about us?”
“No.” Armand turned to keep walking, but didn’t pull his hand away. Good. Progress. “We didn’t see each other much at the time. Although, Louis also kept tabs on you. He simply pulled some of your feelings about Paris from your subconscious.”
“Huh. So that means I could probably figure out a way to get the rest back? All the feelings I’m still missing?”
“I don’t know, Daniel.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
Armand gave him a withering look. “It’s your name.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t call me that before.”
Armand pulled his hand away. Daniel tried to keep his hold, but Armand was far stronger. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re just scared. And that’s fine, but I’m telling you, you don’t have to be. Call me what you used to call me.” Daniel waited, unnerved at Armand’s stillness. “This isn’t a trap. I want you to say it.”
Armand scoffed, “Then you want me to hurt.”
“Stop that. Don’t tell me what I want. Since it’s not hitting yet: Armand, I am not mad about the past. Neither of us was at our best. I’m sorry for my part in it. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to do shit you didn’t want to do. You shouldn’t have taken it all away. But we’re both stubborn as hell. It’s in the past. I want to take our time for once, now. We have all the time in the world. But I need to know you’re in agreement.”
Every immortal year of weariness crept into Armand’s voice, “To what end?”
“To us. To me falling in love with you one last time because I can hardly remember the first.”
“You…” Armand stepped back. His eyes were shaking. “Do not lie to me, Daniel.”
“Not lying. I fucking hate lying. I’ve had enough secrets and bullshit for eternity. Hell, I promise to tell you the truth, okay. So you won’t get confused. I’m not playing a game here.”
“So what? You want to pick up where we left off? Decades have passed. You may not like how I’ve changed, and besides you knew me little even then.”
“Nah, I knew you. I still do. Knowing your past is something different. And there’s time for that, I’m not gonna force you to talk about anything. And it wouldn’t change anything. I know you got Claudia killed and, look, still here! Nothing is gonna change my mind.”
Armand closed his eyes, huffed a humorless laugh. “I once drained my only friend and tore his body to pieces. I led a cult despite knowing the great laws were false gods. I’ve killed more people than you could imagine, in more gruesome ways than—”
“Don’t care. I want you. Not despite that stuff. Because of it. Call me fucked in the head, but I love you for it. Your monstrousness. Always have.”
Armand shuddered. “I’d rather you not say such things if you don’t mean them.”
“I mean it. Don’t leave.” Daniel took Armand’s hand again and pulled him close. “All this pushback. What’s the problem, boss? Starting to think you’re the one who doesn’t mean it. What, am I not pretty enough now?”
“No, beloved—” Armand rushed to say.
Daniel cut him off with a kiss. How could he not kiss him after hearing that endearment shaped by those lips? And the reassurance that he still loved Daniel. That aging hadn’t changed anything. Daniel had to kiss him. Armand was frozen for a moment before his arms wrapped around Daniel’s shoulders. Yes, yes. This was what Daniel needed. The yawning hole in his life filled.
Armand pulled away first, “Are you sure?”
Daniel pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I’m more than sure. Do you promise not to leave again?”
A silence passed between them, heavy and raw.
“Yes,” Armand said quietly. “If you’re sure, I promise to stay.”
Daniel grinned. He looked crazed as he pressed kisses to every part of Armand he could reach. That beautiful, seductive laugh filled his senses before Armand was cupping his face, resting their foreheads together.
“Beloved, how I’ve missed you.”
“Same. Fucking same. Missed you, need you, come here.”
Daniel kissed him properly, thoroughly. Armand met his intensity and backed Daniel into the nearest wall. He shoved a thigh between Daniel’s legs. Oh, yes. Daniel rutted against him, cock twitching to life in his pants.
“Good boy,” Armand whispered along his neck. “Desperate thing. Some things never change.”
“Boss, please.”
“Shh, sweet boy. What is it you need?”
“You.” Danie whimpered when Armand backed off.
“There is a hotel two blocks away.”
Daniel took a ragged breath, gripped onto Armand’s arm to steady himself. “Lead the way.”
The distance was nothing with vampiric speed. Armand shielded them from mortal notice and tucked them into the first empty room. Daniel crowded up against Armand, kissing him with 40 years of longing. He nicked Armand’s tongue with his fangs and moaned into the taste of his blood. There was nothing like this, this closeness. What did it matter if their minds were blocked off when they had this intimacy?
Armand stumbled back, but quickly steadied them. He broke away and smiled at Daniel. A little crazed, a little apprehensive. Not good. Daniel scrambled to free his hands from where he’d nuzzled them in Armand’s shirt.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Daniel cupped Armand’s face, rubbed their noses together.
“Nothing.” Armand’s eyes were wide, bright orange. “It just hurts still.”
Daniel frowned, “What hurts? We don’t have to, we can do something else. Watch Blade Runner or whatever.”
That made Armand smile. He took Daniel’s palm from his cheek and pressed a kiss to it. “It hurts that I deprived us both of this for so long. I missed you, but I could pretend before. Now, you’re here and I…”
Daniel pulled Armand into a hug. He squeezed tighter than a mortal would survive. He knew what Armand meant. That latent ache coming up all at once. “We’re here now, yeah? It worked out okay.”
He felt Armand’s hands wander over his back, caress his sides. He could barely feel it through his jacket, but that didn’t matter. A shudder still ran through him. Daniel bucked his hips forward. Armand cooed and tucked Daniel’s head into his neck. The smell of him was familiar and lovely. He nipped at the skin, teasing, before finally biting down. Armand let out a breathy little moan. Beautiful. He drank like a starved fledgling, reveling in the feeling of Armand’s caresses. Armand’s hand slipped into his pocket before he separated them.
Daniel blinked away his hazy pleasure to see the amulet glinting in the light. “Oh.”
Armand undid the clasp and let it coil in one palm. He wrapped his free hand over Daniel’s throat. “Would you like it back, beloved?”
Daniel nodded, leaning further into Armand’s hold. He was quiet when Armand removed his hand, as he watched those graceful fingers take the chain and bring it over Daniel’s shoulders. The faint snap of the clasp made him whimper. He belonged to Armand again. No, he always had. But now the physical claim of it was there, a heavy weight against his chest. Armand tugged the chain tight from the back, watched Daniel squirm before letting it fall comfortably again. Pleasure shot down Daniel’s spine.
“Love you,” Daniel rasped out. “Wanna fuck.”
Armand laughed. The best sound in the world. Daniel would do anything to hear it constantly. “Needy, boy. Come then, let’s make up for lost time. Down.”
It took a second before the command registered with Daniel. When his knees hit the floor he felt it echo across his mind, that familiar jolt of pain. Armand’s pleased smile. Daniel groaned when Armand ran his claws through his hair, pulled his head back so he was looking up at Armand.
“Do you like it?” Daniel found himself asking. Armand tilted his head. “They way I turned out?”
“Oh, darling,” Armand leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I like it well enough, the way you turned out. My one and only.”
Daniel let out an embarrassing whimper at the sweet words and another when Armand pulled away. Daniel wanted to follow, but a raised eyebrow sent the message loud and clear. Stay. He tracked the graceful way Armand sat himself on the sofa at the far side of the room. Inhuman, all the better for it.
“Good.” Armand praised. He undid the buttons of his shirt and let it fall open. Daniel wanted to press himself against the skin, bury himself in that perfect chest. “Your turn.”
Daniel tossed his jacket to the side and pulled his shirt off. He went to undo his fly, but Armand tutted and sighed like he was disappointed. Daniel felt his cock twitch.
“Behave yourself or there will be consequences. Sit still, be quiet.”
Oh, Daniel liked that, wanted that. But another night. Because now they had time. Countless more nights. So, tonight, Daniel wanted to be good. He sat back on his heels and shut his mouth. Even as his cock filled out and ached against the confines of his jeans. Even when Armand trailed his hands over his own chest, brushed his nipples and breathed out quiet little noises. Oh, how Daniel wanted to swallow them down.
Armand trailed his hand further, palmed at himself over his clothes before undoing his zipper. Daniel couldn’t keep in the wrecked moan or full body jolt that went through him when Armand pulled his cock free. It was straining, beading red at the tip and Daniel wanted to taste. Armand stroked himself languidly and laughed when Daniel whimpered again. “Poor thing. You were doing so well, listening. I’ll let that last pathetic little sound go because of how sweet you’re being tonight. You can have your reward. Come here.”
Daniel felt of a wave of relief as he moved to stand.
“No.” Armand’s voice was even, commanding. Daniel froze at once. “I never said you could get off your knees, did I?”
Daniel shook his head, dropped back down. “No, sorry boss.”
Armand hummed as he fisted the base of his cock. “It’s okay. I know how eager you get. Now come here, properly.”
The rough hotel carpet dragged against his palms as Daniel tipped forward onto all fours. Right, he used to do this often. Loved to look up at Armand from the floor with weepy eyes and beg for what Armand would have easily given him anyway. He locked eyes with Armand as he crawled forward. He stopped just before his fingertips brushed Armand’s shoes and put on his best pleading eyes. He could smell the bloody precum, felt his fangs drop. Armand grinned.
“Careful, beloved. You’ll need to control yourself if you want your treat.”
Daniel closed his eyes, focused hard until his fangs retracted and looked up at Armand for approval. He got it in the form of a fond expression and a hand at the base of his skull. Daniel shifted, trying to fight the discomfort in his pants. He was leaking even more than Armand, a wet patch threatening to stain his favorite jeans. He couldn’t care less, though, when all his senses were locked on Armand.
Armand stroked himself a few more times. Daniel squirmed.
“So lovely,” Armand sighed. “I could get off just looking at you.”
Hot, but not what Daniel needed. He felt tears sting his eyes at the thought of being denied now. “Please.”
Armand laughed. Beautiful noise. The best. “I already said you’d have your treat, beloved, no need to worry.”
Armand guided him forward until Daniel's face was buried in his crotch. The heady smell overwhelmed him, he pressed messy kisses whoever he could reach. Armand let up on his grip, let Daniel kiss the base of his cock. He groaned as Daniel moved further up until he could lick the precum from the source. Stars exploded behind Daniel’s eyes. He felt the first tears escape.
“Love you,” he whispered before taking the head into his mouth. Armand jerked beneath him, made a high pitched whine when Daniel released him to lick from base to tip, wet and messy.
“Love you too,” Armand’s words came out pleasure-broken and sweet.
Daniel resisted the urge to preen, instead focusing on taking Armand all the way to the base. He hummed and Armand’s cock twitched inside him. Armand shifted his legs so Daniel could grind against him, and Daniel took the invitation with enthusiasm. He rutted without a pattern, saved all his thinking for building up a rhythm as he sucked Armand off.
Armand’s thighs were quivering. Daniel ran his hands across them. He pulled off, wiped at the mess of saliva around his mouth and gripped Armand’s legs tight. He stilled his hips too, tried to breathe for a moment.
“You can use me, okay? Don’t hold back.”
Armand blinked at him slowly, lost in the pleasure. He pulled Daniel up into a kiss before shoving him back down, hard. Daniel kissed the tip of his cock before taking him down again, then stilling.
“You are perfect, beloved.” Armand’s voice was wrecked. He started thrusting into Daniel’s mouth without warning. Hard and ruthless, and Daniel thought that between the two of them, it must be Armand that’s perfect. His pretty monster that gave him everything he wished for.
Daniel knew he was a mess. He grinded against Armand’s leg like a dog in heat, chasing a release he needed so desperately. Armand made a keening sound as he held Daniel down against him, cum spilling into Daniel’s throat. Daniel moaned, picked up the pace of his hips until he was careening over the edge. Armand didn’t let Daniel back off, just kept him there as Daniel rocked himself through the aftershocks. When Daniel did still, Armand pressed his leg into Daniel’s crotch and laughed when he whined in oversensitivity. Only then did he guide Daniel off his cock and haul him into his lap.
“Sweet boy, you did so well taking me. I’ve missed you so much.” Armand pressed kisses to his cheeks.
“Missed you too,” Daniel rasped, his throat still raw. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too, Daniel. I’m so happy to have you back. I never thought…”
Daniel took Armand’s face in his hands and kissed him. He rubbed his thumbs across Armand’s cheekbones.
“Doesn’t matter what you thought. I’m here now. Gonna be here tomorrow and the day after that and on and on forever. Good luck getting rid of me now.”
Armand blinked, trying to stifle the tears beading in his eyes. Daniel kissed them away before they could fall.
“I don’t want to be rid of you. Not ever.”
“Sounds good to me.” Daniel kissed him again. “Not to ruin the mood, but I could really use a change of clothes and a shower.”
Armand smiled, “That can be arranged. Go start the shower, I’ll return in a moment.”
They kissed a few more times before Armand made it out the door. Daniel stripped, decided his pants and boxers were a lost cause and tossed them in the trash. He had barely started scrubbing away his mess when Armand joined him.
“Did you steal clothes for me?”
Armand nodded and spun Daniel so he could scrub his back.
“Did you kill someone for them?”
Armand pressed his face between Daniel’s shoulders, smile pressed against skin. That was a yes then. Daniel let himself be washed, let memories of similar moments bubble to the surface. He kissed Armand after each one.
Armand deemed Daniel properly cleaned a long time later, led him back into the room and dressed him in the stolen clothes. Daniel loved it, like a claim, like the amulet he was never taking off again. He kissed Daniel sweetly once he was done.
A little burst of light from the window caught Daniel’s attention. “Hey was that—“
“A camera flash?” Armand’s eyes narrowed. “Beloved, would you like a snack?”
They split the poor Talamasca agent in the shower and left his body there. That was a later problem. Armand tied the curtains closed tight, stole the curtains for the next room just to be safe. Then he bundled them up in the blankets and settled onto the mattress. Armand flicked the TV on.
“Maybe they're just voyeurs. The whole ‘supernatural archive’ thing is all for show and they just like taking photos through windows for fun.”
“Maybe,” Armand leaned further into him. “But I did not give them permission to photograph you.”
Daniel shuddered. “Right, all yours, babe.”
Armand smiled. “Correct. Now please stop interrupting. We’re getting to the good part and I’m not convinced you ever fully paid attention to this scene the first nine times I showed this to you.”
Daniel laughed, “Okay, whatever you say.”
He pressed a kiss to Armand’s hair. Eternity like this. There was nothing better.