Chapter Text
Daniel couldn’t even say he was surprised when he opened his door one evening to find Armand there, waiting. His white shirt was unbuttoned all the way down to his navel. Daniel’s eyes darted down, then back up to his face.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked, irritated.
Armand cocked his head. He looked – Daniel didn’t know how he looked. It made him uncomfortable, like an itch under his skin. He shifted on his feet, folded his arms.
“When is the last time you had an erection, Daniel?”
Daniel choked out a laugh, shocked and startled. “What?”
Armand stepped closer. If he were human, Daniel would have been able to smell him, to feel the heat of him. But Daniel didn’t feel a thing; his body registered Armand’s nearness only by the prickling at the back of his neck. When Armand reached out a hand, he stepped back, out of reach.
He scoffed, raising a brow. “Let me guess. You and Louis are hitting that seventy-year bed death, so you come to me to…what? Make him jealous?”
Armand smiled, looking far too amused. “I assure you, Daniel, that Louis and I have a very fulfilling sex life.”
“Sure,” Daniel agreed, flat. “And that’s why you’re at my door with your shirt hanging open.”
Armand moved his shoulder, just enough to shift the fabric, reveal more of his chest. “You're attracted to me.” It didn’t sound like a question.
“Don’t play stupid,” Daniel said, unimpressed. “Doesn’t suit you.”
Armand studied him for a moment. “What would it take?”
“Excuse me?”
Armand gave him a look, unreadable. “You used to let men fuck you for heroin, Daniel.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s –”
Armand ignored his attempts to protest, speaking over him. “You traded blowjobs for lines of cocaine. Sometimes you put out for just an interview.” He paused.
Daniel’s mouth thinned, irritated.
“But,” Armand continued, slowly, “of course, I expect that your standards have gone up.” His eyes flitted over Daniel, head to toe, lingering on the swell at the front of his pants.
Daniel refused to move to hide it. Why bother, when Armand could see into his mind and take it, anyways? He stood with his arms folded, met Armand’s eyes when he looked up again.
“So tell me, Daniel,” Armand said, voice low and sultry. “What would it take?”
Daniel shook his head, laughed a little. “I’m not getting involved in whatever little game this is. Nice try.”
“Oh, Daniel,” he purred, eyes darkening. “Did you think you had a choice? You’re already involved.”
Daniel stubbornly refused to move or step back. He wondered if Armand could hear how his heart rate had sped up. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or arousal. He wasn’t sure if there was a difference, really.
Armand stepped forward, trailed a finger slowly across Daniel’s chest. His nail was sharp, through the thin fabric of Daniel’s t-shirt.
“I asked you a question, Daniel.”
He swallowed, audibly. He forced himself to meet Armand’s eyes without blinking. “What are you offering?”
Armand studied him, then leaned closer, until Daniel could feel his breath, the movement of the air without any heat or moisture. “Offering? Myself, Daniel. I want you to beg me for it.”
Armand tapped his collarbone, and Daniel could feel it vibrate through his whole skeleton. He shivered, his eyes falling closed for half a moment. When he opened them, he’d made a decision, a stupid decision.
“An interview,” he said. “That’s my price.”
Armand looked amused. “Your whore number.”
He exhaled, slowly. “Yeah.”
Armand leaned back a little, considered him. “And what do you intend to gather from this interview?”
Daniel swallowed, shook his head. “Will you do it or not? Offer’s expiring. Clock ticking.”
Armand smiled a little. He ran his nails up Daniel’s neck to grab his jaw, turn his face this way and that.
“Alright,” he said, eventually. “An interview of my own, just for you. Louis will find it so amusing.”
Daniel stared at him, eyes hard. He didn’t try to shake out of Armand’s hold. His mind was racing, the thoughts too fast for him to follow. This is a bad idea, was the loudest, repeating itself, echoing around his head like the rattle of a snake. This is a bad idea.
Armand’s eyes softened, took on an expression that Daniel couldn’t read. “A deal with the devil,” he said, quietly.
“Something like that.” It was hard to talk, with Armand holding his jaw in an iron grip.
How are such deals typically sealed, Daniel?
His eyes darted to Armand’s lips, then back up. Armand smiled, softly, and dragged him in. His lips were cold, when they met Daniel’s, and he gasped against them.
The kiss was soft, at first, just the simple press of their lips, as if this really were a transaction. But then Armand pulled him closer, deepened it. He kissed hard and desperate, ravenous, like he wanted to devour Daniel, like he was starved for it. Armand’s hand slid down to settle at the base of his throat, tightening just enough to set off alarm signals somewhere in the back of his mind. Daniel found himself rocking against Armand, his hands coming to clutch at Armand’s hips.
Armand pulled away, too soon. He dragged his thumb over Daniel’s lower lip, following it with his eyes. Then they met Daniel’s, pupils blown so wide that the amber was barely visible. “Beg,” he said. A reminder, perhaps, or a command. “I want you to beg.”
Daniel considered it, far longer than he was proud of. It made Armand’s lips twitch up in a smile. Daniel scoffed, shook his head.
“Good luck with that,” he said, against Armand’s thumb. “Find someone else. You make Louis beg for it, too?”
Armand clicked his tongue, tapped Daniel’s lip with his thumb. “Why should he beg? I give Louis everything he could ever want.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Right. And I’m not the love of your life, just the schmuck of the week.”
“So little confidence, Daniel,” Armand chided, frowning a little. “I’ll give you everything you want and more. I want you to beg for it because I know that you want to beg. You crave it.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Daniel said, ignoring how his breath hitched.
Armand just smiled. He tapped Daniel’s lip a final time before releasing him, walking away.
Daniel stepped back into the room and shut the door, quickly. He sighed, ran a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he breathed, suddenly exhausted.
He reached a hand down, palmed at himself through his pants. He hadn’t been hard like this in ages, and it was pissing him off that it was over some stupid vampire twink.
He sat at his computer, stared blankly at the open file. He tried, for a valiant few minutes, to ignore it. Then he gave up, unzipped his jeans, and spit in his hand to jerk himself off.
He imagined Armand on his knees at first, looking up at him with those big, amber eyes. Then the fantasy shifted; Daniel was on his knees, begging and pleading. His wrists were tied behind his back, tightly. Armand stood before him, in the loose, flowy garments he’d worn as Rashid. The thin fabric did nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and right at Daniel’s eye level.
He came, gasping, with the phantom feeling of Armand’s hand in his hair. Such a good boy, Daniel.
Armand called to him the next afternoon, his voice an insistent nagging in the back of Daniel’s brain. He followed it to the penthouse’s domed-in pool, irritated.
“What is this, Dracula and Renfield?” he asked, folding his arms. “Stay out of my head,”
Armand swam to the side of the pool, looking amused. “And yet, you obeyed.”
He rolled his eyes. “Kind of hard not to, when…” he trailed off, his brainpower wilting, when Armand hauled himself out onto the deck, flexing the strong muscles of his bare back and arms.
He was dripping, the water running in rivulets down his chest, his hips. He wore only some skimpy little mid-thigh European swim shorts, wet and clinging to his skin. He had to walk past Daniel to collect a towel from the shelf along the wall, and Daniel swallowed, watching him. He dried himself, lifting each leg to run the towel across his feet.
Daniel cleared his throat. “Did you have a reason for bringing me here, or are you just wasting my time?”
Armand straightened, slung the towel across his shoulders like a scarf. “I’m ready for our interview now.”
“Now?” Daniel almost protested, but decided against it. He sighed. “Sure. Why not? Do you have clothes, or are you planning to walk around like that?”
“It’s my house, Daniel,” Armand said, amused.
Daniel scowled. “Right.”
In the room Daniel had started calling the sun room, they settled in. Daniel opened his computer, still on the table from his last session with Louis, and set up the recording.
He looked up at Armand, his finger hovering over the trackpad. He clicked begin. “I’m Daniel Molloy, it is…4:08pm on June 30th, 2022. I’m still in the penthouse apartment of the Al Sharaf Towers across from…”
Armand quirked a brow, tilted his head as he said, “The vampire Armand.”
“No last name, huh?” Daniel bit back a laugh. He didn’t know what he’d expected, interviewing the guy who’d played human pet for the last two weeks. “Sure, fine. We’ll come back to that, though.”
Armand smiled, amused. “Yes, I expect we will.”
Daniel sighed, clasped his hands together. “First question. San Francisco, 1973. What happened that night?”
Armand leaned back, draped his arms over the back of the sofa. It put his whole body on display. “Don’t you remember, Daniel?”
“No,” Daniel said, flat. He refused to get sucked into Armand’s games. “What happened?”
“San Francisco…” Armand said it slowly, like he was tasting the words. He tipped his head back, humming as if in thought.
Daniel couldn’t help but follow the line of his throat. His bare chest was barely covered by the towel slung around his shoulders. His swim shorts were still wet, probably ruining the leather.
“Polynesian Mary’s,” Armand said, making Daniel’s eyes jump back to him, watch his throat work as he spoke. “Louis and I were there to hunt. You were, ah, how did they call it in those days…cruising?”
“Yeah, not quite.” Daniel almost rolled his eyes. “I picked up interesting people in bars to interview them. Called it a passion project.”
Armand raised his head, met Daniel’s eyes. “And how many of these interesting people did you fuck, Daniel?” He paused, briefly.
Daniel didn’t respond, not interested in playing into it.
“You wanted to fuck Louis,” Armand said. His voice was lower than before.
“You were there,” Daniel said, without really meaning to.
Amused, Armand smiled. “I was. You wanted to fuck me, too.”
“But I didn’t.”
Armand cocked his head. “Are you certain?”
Daniel shrugged, leaned back. He folded his arms. “No. Not really. I’m not sure about a lot of things those years. Smack’ll do a number on a guy.”
Armand studied him, with that same unreadable expression as before. “You don’t remember.”
Daniel scoffed. “You know I don’t. Or can you only read my mind when it’s convenient for you?”
“An invitation, Daniel?” the vampire purred, delighted. “How thoughtful.”
“So what happened?” he asked again, growing impatient. “Louis agrees to the interview, then next thing I know, I’m getting my throat ripped out. Woke up the next day with hours of tape, an interview I don’t remember at all.”
The corners of Armand’s mouth ticked up. “And then what?”
Daniel huffed, irritated. “No, let’s back it up. You were there. What happened?”
Armand leaned forward, a little closer. “Do you think you slept with Louis, Daniel?”
“What?”
“Do you think he would let you?” Armand continued as if he hadn’t spoken. His eyes were boring into Daniel, making him want to squirm in his seat. “Do you think I would let you?”
He exhaled, a little too shaky. “I don’t know a damn thing about what Louis would let me do.”
Armand smiled. “Allow me to paint a picture for you, then.”
He began to move his hand, trailing his fingers along the back of the sofa. Daniel’s eyes followed them. He had nice hands, large but delicate. With claws sharp enough that the lightest touch left scratches on the leather. Daniel swallowed, tried to force his eyes away.
“Louis takes you to an apartment,” Armand said, once Daniel’s eyes returned to his. “Not ours. The dump, as you called it.”
“Got that.”
“He offers you cocaine, pure and expensive. You accept, of course.” His eyes crinkled up at this, like it was funny.
Daniel didn’t agree. “Of course,” he said, flat.
Armand cocked his head. Did he ever blink? “He works his hand into your hair, holds your head as you bend your nose to the glass top of the table. It’s filthy, the table.”
“Descriptive,” he said, dryly.
“He doesn’t let you go when you raise your head, throw it back in ecstasy.”
As he spoke, Armand tilted his own head back, gasping on the last word, as if to demonstrate. He stayed there a moment, and Daniel shifted in his seat, trying not to look, not to listen.
When Armand raised his head, his eyes were dark. “He uses his other hand to wipe the dust from your nose and upper lip. Then he kisses you, slow and sensual.”
Daniel swallowed. His mouth was dry when he said, “Slow and sensual. What, are you narrating your little fantasy?"
He pursed his lips, like he was holding back a smile. “I’m simply detailing what happened, Daniel, as you’ve asked. Shall I continue?”
Daniel tried to put on an expression of indifference, of irritation. Whatever, he wanted to say. Go on, you seem to be having so much fun with this.
That smile broke free, Armand’s lips parting to reveal his teeth, too-white in his mouth. “You’re eager for it, of course. Clutching and pawing at him. The barest push of his hand and you’re falling to your knees, scrambling for the button of his trousers.”
He paused, tilted his head. “Desperate is a good look on you, Daniel. You wear it well. You looked so beautiful when you sucked his cock.”
Daniel coughed, startled, and looked down. Get a fucking grip, Molloy. “Right, okay. What’s the point of all this? I distinctly recall you…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it. He was trying not to think of Armand that night, staring intently at him. Have your fun, he’d said.
Armand pulled it from his mind, anyways. “Rejecting you? Is that what you think?”
Daniel shifted a little. Armand’s eyes darted down, to where his cock was hard in his jeans. He looked back up, smiled at Daniel, and leaned back against the sofa, spreading his legs just a bit wider. Daniel could see every line of his cock through the damp fabric of his swimsuit.
He swallowed, tore his eyes away. “Right, okay.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together. “So you’re there. You…what, followed us? Did Louis know?”
“Of course,” Armand said, fondly. “I’ve told you. I protect Louis.”
Daniel wasn’t buying it. “Right. And he was clearly in danger from the journalist giving him top for blow. Sure.”
Armand laughed. It was annoying how nice his laugh was. Daniel scowled.
“The “top” was hardly in exchange, Daniel, don’t lie to yourself. And I wasn’t there to protect him from you, I was there to protect him from himself.”
Daniel raised a brow. “Let me guess, his whole moral crisis? The reason he now gets fed bloodbags in soup bowls?”
Armand smiled, sharply. “Perhaps.”
“Alright,” Daniel said, a little too loud. “So I’m there acting the idiot and you’re there playing Louis’s blood drinkers’ anonymous sponsor. Got it.”
“He came on your face,” Armand said, staring at Daniel. “Do you remember? You look beautiful, painted in blood.”
“Jesus Christ, Armand,” he said, exhaling quickly. “Alright, okay? I get it. Let’s move on. What happened next?”
Armand smiled, looking far too amused. “The interview, of course. You’ve heard the tapes. Or would you like me to repeat them for you?”
“Got them memorized huh? That’s your bedtime audiobook?”
“Vampires have an eidetic memory,” Armand said. When Daniel raised a brow, he tilted his head and conceded, “More or less.”
“Sure,” Daniel quipped, short. “That’s a lie, but we’ll come back to it. So the interview, yadda yadda. Then Louis tries to kill me, and you supposedly save my life.”
“Supposedly?” Armand asked, raising a brow. “Do you doubt it?”
He shrugged. “Not really. Makes sense. Protecting Louis from himself and all that. Just don’t try to sell it as an act of philanthropy.”
“Good,” Armand said, satisfied. He settled back against the sofa. “I have no time for delusions.”
Daniel raised a brow. “Just Louis’s. Or is it different when you’re the one maintaining the delusion?”
Armand eyed him, irritated. Then he continued, as if Daniel hadn’t even spoken. “Yes, I saved your life. The rush of the blood is indescribable. It’s almost impossible to resist. The “little drink,” as Louis calls it, requires incredible restraint. I had to pull Louis off of you. He was horrified, when he came to his senses. I grabbed your jaw –”
In a flash, he was there, holding it exactly as he said, sharp nails digging into his skin. Daniel cried out, startled.
“—and shook you,” he continued. He yanked at Daniel’s jaw, shaking him hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “Like this. You opened your eyes, just a little, and I turned your face towards Louis, into the light. He’s alive, Louis. Look at him, my love, he’s alive.”
He was breathing hard, crouched over Daniel like some kind of insect, like a praying mantis. He left his hand there, his forefinger stroking Daniel’s cheek. “Louis was insensate, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“Let go of me,” Daniel said, quietly.
“Yes,” Armand sighed. “I did.”
He released him, let him drop roughly back against the sofa.
“Exactly like that. You crumpled to the floor, and I assumed you would soon succumb to the blood loss and perish.”
Daniel rubbed at his jaw and neck, wincing. “Saved my life, but didn’t care if I died, huh?”
His eyes were hard, when they met Daniel’s. “I saved you for Louis’s sake. He didn’t want to kill you. I didn’t care what happened afterwards. I took him home and cared for him until the sun rose, until we slept. Louis refused to rise the next evening. He loves to let sorrow fester, as you have noticed.”
“So you left him,” Daniel guessed.
Armand shook his head, just a little. “Not for long. To clean up the body in the other apartment.”
“The body,” he repeated, flat.
The corners of Armand’s mouth ticked up, but there wasn’t any amusement behind the smile. “So certain I was that you had died. But you were gone, leaving behind only a bloodstain on the carpet.”
Daniel leaned back, folded his arms. “So that’s it. That’s the big tale.”
Armand cocked his head. “Do you think that’s all there is to this tale?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said, short. “Like I said. Smack. Liquor. Big gaping holes in my memory.”
Armand hummed, but didn’t look away. “Do you believe that the last time you saw me was in 1973?”
Daniel paused, considering it. Thinking too hard about it made his pulse race. He felt like a rabbit in a cage, sometimes, just waiting to be loosed onto the dog track. “No,” he said, eventually.
“Good, Daniel,” Armand smiled, slowly. “You’re correct, of course.” He stood. “Perhaps for session two.”
“Session –” Daniel blinked. “We’re done?”
“For today, yes.”
Daniel shook his head, a little bitterly. “Oh, am I interrupting your plans? Got a big list of people to kill?”
He leaned over to turn off the recording software, but Armand stepped closer, used his knee to knock Daniel’s arm aside. He was standing close, too close. Daniel’s eyes darted to his crotch.
“No, Daniel,” he said, softly. “You’re not interrupting my plans. But you won’t find the next part of this tale pleasant at all, and I want you to suck my cock first.”
He made a noise, something embarrassingly like a moan, before he could bite it back. He felt his face flush, and his eyes darted to the laptop, still recording.
Armand smiled, reached out to put a finger under his chin. He used it to tilt Daniel’s face up, force him to look at him. “I’ve bought it, haven’t I? With your interview?”
Daniel licked his lips. His gaze darted down the line of Armand’s body, then back up. “I’m not some kind of whore.”
Armand’s eyes crinkled, just a little. “And yet…”
He held his ground for a long moment, meeting Armand’s eyes head on. Then he broke, sighing. “Fuck it,” he breathed, a little shaky. He reached for the ties of Armand’s skimpy little swimsuit. His hands were moving too quickly, desperate.
Armand made a little noise, pleased and satisfied, and moved his hand to Daniel’s hair. He twisted his fingers in, just a little too tight.
It went straight to his dick. Daniel made a noise, something almost like a cry of pain. Not quite. “Fuck,” he hissed, closing his eyes in an effort to regain his composure. He opened them, tugged Armand’s shorts down. His cock was leaking red at the tip, blood smeared over the head and on the inside of his shorts.
“Go on,” Armand told him, tugging his hair a little.
Daniel didn’t look up as he leaned in and took half of it, all at once. It was cold, like the rest of Armand, and the shock of it made him moan.
He took it deeper, just shy of the back of his throat. When was the last time he’d done this? He didn’t even remember. He slid back up, dragged his tongue across the head. It didn’t taste like blood at all, it was like – Jesus, he understood Louis a little better, now.
When he slid back down, Armand made a little noise. His voice was low, a little breathy, when he said, “Good, so good, Daniel.”
Daniel knew he was good at it, was glad to hear that he was still good at it. He moaned again, brought his hand up to wrap around him. It didn’t take long at all, before Armand’s hand was tightening in his hair, his hips jerking forward. He came, bloody, down Daniel’s throat, making him choke a little.
He pulled off, coughing. Then he moaned, breathy, as the high hit him, the blood-high that Louis had described. And he – yeah, he got it, now. He shifted his hips, whining a little at the friction against his cock. God, it had been ages.
Armand used the hand in his hair to tilt his head back, make him look up. “Beg.”
Daniel scoffed. “I’m not begging you, man. Come on.”
Armand shrugged, released him. “Then don’t. But you’ll have to handle that yourself.”
Daniel groaned, frustrated, and fell heavily back against the sofa. He closed his eyes, shoved his hand into his pants, roughly.
His eyes flew open, startled, when Armand sat on his lap. His cock was still out, softening and shiny with blood and saliva. He arched a brow, as if to say, Well?
Daniel grabbed Armand’s hips, pulled him down against himself. Armand leaned over him, placed his hands on the back of the sofa. His arms bracketed Daniel, like a cage.
“I’m not going to assist you, Daniel,” he said, voice low and quiet.
Daniel moaned, tightened his hold on Armand’s hips. He rutted up against him, desperately, until he came, gasping and groaning, in his pants.
Armand held him there a moment, watching him. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Daniel’s lips, soft and gentle. He stood, tucked his cock back into his swimsuit, and said, “Good night, Daniel.”
Daniel watched him leave, stunned stupid. He looked over and saw his laptop, still recording. The little line had spiked at Armand’s voice.
When he slept that night, he dreamt, memories of exactly what they’d discussed. Louis’s cock down his throat, fangs at his neck. Armand’s strong fingers on his jaw, voice in his ears. He’s alive, Louis. Look at him, he’s alive. Lying half-dead on the dirty carpet, dragging himself out onto the street the next morning, cringing away from the sun and the noise of the road.
He woke, gasping and clutching at his throat. His cock was hard, but his heart was racing, fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins.