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If he tripped and timed it just right, he could match the pounding of his shoes on the pavement to the pounding in his head. Ricky (or he guessed his name was Ricky) said his apartment was just around the block, but if you asked Daniel, he’d say they’d been walking for hours.
These days it was ritualistic; random strangers and drugs in random apartments. Calculated recklessness for recklessness’ sake. It was killing him, Daniel knew that now, but what else could he do? Armand was gone and everything looped its way back around to him.
The vampire chased him up and down four continents. It ended in Munich after Armand said he’d be gone for a week and just never came back for him. Eventually, he wired him just enough cash for his room and a plane ticket back to America.
Daniel never needed him, but leaving like that was just so inexplicably bitchy. He wasn't even sure he liked Armand. With his bug-eyed stares at the foot of his bed and the mountain of questions. Or how Armand could go from zero to a hundred at a smart-ass comment and fucking snap. It was horrifying when he got into his mind too. After months apart, he could still feel the grip he had on reality run through his fingers like silk.
So, he should be happy Armand was gone, but it didn’t quite work that way for an adrenaline junkie like Daniel. Armand dangled him over an existential precipice for so long he didn't even feel real anymore. And what twenty-four-year-old would give up the thrill of a lifetime to suck and fuck for stories and some cocaine powder? A fucking loser, that’s who.
“Not too long now,” Ray, or Ricky or whatever the Hell his name was, said. Ricky turned around and did a double-take. “Sheesh, kid. We’ll get you some ice water when we get there.”
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the sweat pouring down his face. When he blinked it got into his eyes and made them sting as if he were crying.
Daniel looked down the street at the oncoming headlights and noticed how they sharpened and blurred and buzzed at him. The physical exhaustion could’ve killed him right there. He felt the tendrils of it curl and crawl to the crown of his skull, and in the din he heard the flashing lights call to him.
His tired feet led him into traffic. One step and then another, but, like a marionette, his torso launched his feet back onto the sidewalk. A car horn blared as it whizzed past, and he could feel the sharp wind as it brushed past him, setting every nerve on fire.
By this time Ricky was halfway up the street, completely oblivious. Daniel took in the broad expanse of his back under his flannel and thought, ‘What the fuck am I doing here?’
Ricky was whistling as he sauntered along. He did it the same way Daniel’s father used to whistle. Lazy and loud, like life wasn’t happening while the world waited for them to get off their asses and do something about it. It pissed him off.
He thought about Armand and felt stupid for doing it. As if his foggy mind could summon him and he’d swoop in like Superman. Armand would eat Ricky in two strong mouthfuls, and the sight alone would make Daniel’s dick so hard he'd shed a tear. Then, Armand would scoop him up and Daniel would nuzzle his face into his neck and say, “Take me home,” and Armand would do it.
He shook his head to banish the thought. Calling didn’t work anymore, and Daniel was better off that way. He trudged on after Ricky.
The apartment was shabby in a way that didn't surprise Daniel. Bare essentials, wood panelling on the walls. A La-Z-Boy sofa at one end and a floral print couch with cigarette burns on the cushions at the other. A television set with a thick layer of dust and a yellowish haze over everything else.
Daniel sat on the couch and took off his shirt.
“Whoa! We don’t gotta rush.”
Daniel gave him a tight smile. “Alright.”
Ricky’s eyes flashed down to his chest and back up to his face. He licked his lips.
“Almost forgot,” he said. After he left, Daniel heard clinking in the kitchen. Then the tap went on and off. He came around again and handed Daniel some ice water and a stiff towel.
“Thanks, man.”
He waved him off and sat beside Daniel on the couch. He sat too close, but Daniel didn't mind.
“So,” Ricky started, “You’re still in school, yeah?”
There was a glint in his eye that told Daniel he already knew the answer.
“No, not for right now. I have a thing in the city.” He nodded vaguely to his bag in the corner. “With the tapes I told you about. I’m a writer.”
“A writer?” He chuckled. It was a little patronizing. “Anything I’ve read?”
“I did a couple of pieces for the Berkeley Barb. I don’t know if you read any of it. You don’t seem like the kinda guy.” He hated that he felt defensive enough to explain himself, but something told him it wouldn’t even matter.
Ricky hummed and lit a cigarette. “And what do your parents think of that?”
“They don’t.”
“Well, I think they should. There’s something special about you.” He pressed closer into Daniel’s space and placed a hand on his thigh. “Your eyes,” Ricky said. “It's like you’d burst into tears at any minute. You get real sad sometimes, don’t you?”
Daniel nodded and said a final prayer to his merciless and all-loving demonic god.
“Yeah,” Ricky whispered. “Me too.”
He reached into his pockets for a tied-off baggie of coke. Before Daniel could grab for it, he tossed it on the coffee table. Daniel chuckled and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.
“You don’t want me to suck you off first? Before I get too — ”
Ricky kissed him hard before he could finish.
“We have time.”
Daniel jumped at the angry pounding at the door. It shook the entire apartment. Ricky cursed and sprang up to get it, leaving him on the couch. All at once, something in the air shifted. A regal presence, the coming of a cruel king. He could’ve warned Ricky in hindsight.
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and listened as the door swung open and a most horrific gurgling noise followed it. Daniel heard squealing and kicking and then a heavy thud as Ricky collapsed to the floor.
Unbearable silence.
He’s here. Daniel thought. He came back for me.
He listened to the heels of Armand’s shoes strike the hardwood floors. At last he stood before him.
“Collect your things, Daniel.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself, man.”
“Your friend is dead.” Armand gestured to the entryway, his eyes twinkling and almost innocent. “Now, you are to say, ‘you’re welcome’.”
Daniel felt so angry that he couldn’t even look at him. “He's not my friend, and I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You can tell me all about it in the car. Collect your things.”
“No. I'm staying here.” He reached for the baggie of coke, and his arm stopped mid-way, still extended.
“Hm. Rise.”
“No! Let me go! You don't get to do that anymore!” Daniel shouted. “You fucking left me! What the hell, man?”
“I had business to attend to. I told you that.”
“Oh yeah?” Daniel laughed. Armand’s coldness made his face feel red-hot. “You two are fighting again? It’s why you’re back in town, huh?”
“Don’t push me, Daniel.”
“Is it me this time? Or is he sick of you yet?”
Armand pinned his body in place. At that, Daniel remembered who he was dealing with. That he could only slice into Armand’s underbelly with words and tears and nothing else.
“Should you continue to act ungrateful, I will leave.”
“Then fucking go! I don't need you here anymore!”
“Such petulance,” Armand said. “I saved your life twice, tonight.”
Daniel snorted. “Saved me from a good fuck, maybe.”
“You would’ve been a wet stain on the asphalt without me,” Armand seethed. “Measure yourself.”
“I – Wait, that was you? With the car?” Armand cut the strings holding his body up, and Daniel crumpled onto the sofa. “What am I talking about? Of course, that was you! That’s all you fucking do! You create a problem and then you fix it. Then it's all hail Armand while he fucks around in your head!”
“You were in my head!” Armand snapped and took two angry steps towards him. “I couldn’t think without your whining and self-sabotage! I heard it more than my own voice! I know it more than my own mind!”
“'Cause I needed you, asshole!” Daniel screamed. “I was a mess, and you just tossed me out the minute it wasn’t fun for you!”
Armand sighed. “And what more do you expect from me?”
“I wasn't expecting shit from you! I just thought… ”
Armand's pout deepened.
“I just thought that, in some fucked up way, you were my friend,” Daniel's voice cracked, and he willed himself not to cry. “But then you got up and left me, and I don’t know what I did to make you hate me.”
“Your friend?”
“Yeah, dipshit, you don’t have to tell me how it sounds. I already know.” Daniel was standing now, shifting from one foot to the other. His palms itched. “It’s not about me, and it's never been about me. But for a moment there, it felt like we were coming up on something real, you and me.”
Armand stepped forward until they were almost toe-to-toe.
“And in your machinations, I became your friend on the merit we traded secrets, and you screamed at me?” He had a smile in his gentle voice. His hand came up to Daniel’s face, holding his jaw. “Is it your poor judgment that makes you fascinating?”
“You asshole. You dragged me all over the world.”
“Yes,” Armand chuckled. “Should I braid your hair, too? Paint your nails? Define your bounds, Daniel. This friendship you speak of.”
“And there's the deflection,” Daniel said. “You do that a lot when you're scared.”
“You know nothing, boy." Armand’s eyes flashed. A chink in his armour.
“But neither do you.” Daniel brushed their noses together. Armand shuddered and swayed where he stood. “Do I make you scared, Armand?”
Armand smiled and pressed in just enough to brush their lips together. A kiss so chaste and unsure, Daniel hardly registered that things would never be the same between them. Armand's other hand, the hand not holding his jaw, squeezed Daniel’s bare waist as the kiss deepened. Daniel’s tongue ran along the impression of his teeth and up along his gums where his fangs lay dormant. He felt so giddy he could die.
Daniel's feet led him backwards the more frantic Armand got. Kissing and licking into him until they were both breathless. His fingers dug into the waistband of Daniel's jeans and Daniel's back hit the wall at the far end of the living room. Armand slotted their legs together and they clicked into place.
In their eagerness, the layers and layers of clothes didn't exist. Whatever impression of a bulge they could feel was heaven to grind against. Armand moaned in his mouth and slammed their hips together, fucking each other through their clothes. Daniel tore Armand's coat from his shoulders and —
“…Really, man? You couldn’t even bother getting dressed?”
Armand wore fine, silk loungewear that really wouldn't register as pyjamas if you didn't look too closely. But this was Armand, and Daniel knew him. He also knew the set specifically from their chaotic week in Beijing.
Armand looked at him through his lashes. “I came to collect you. Nothing more.”
Daniel crushed their lips together again — more rushed and uncoordinated this time. Armand’s lips felt wetter and silkier than they did previously. Daniel held his slender throat and squeezed it gently just to feel his Adam’s apple bob. He ran his hands up the nape of Armand’s neck and into his hair, wild and soft around his face.
“Show me to the bed,” Armand breathed.
Daniel paused. Ricky never gave him a tour and suddenly, sex with Armand in a dead man’s home unnerved him, especially since his body was still warm in the entryway. He could’ve had his head blown off and Daniel wouldn’t know.
“Daniel?”
But the way Armand looked at him—hot puffs from his little mouth and half shut eyelids. The wanting that was so bare on his face. Daniel’s conscience never denied him anything and it wouldn’t start now. He took Armand’s hand and led him to the back.
The bedroom, when they found it, was neat. A double bed with hospital corners, a wooden dresser with some papers at the edge, and a small crucifix above the mirror.
Armand stripped out of his clothes and Daniel pulled his jeans down his legs. He took in Armand’s shirtless torso and how built he was. How much of him Daniel had to toy with.
“This is so fucked up,” Daniel giggled. “I keep thinking he’ll rise from the dead or something.”
Armand laughed and moved over to the bed where Daniel was sitting. He kicked Daniel’s feet apart and stood in the gap between his thighs, bent down slowly to his ear and said, “Perhaps he’d enjoy a show?”
Daniel’s cock twitched at the thought. The corpse, in whatever state it was, propped up in the corner, watching as Armand bounced on his lap. As they soaked his bedsheets with sweat and cum. The raw essence of them. Armand wrapped his hand around Daniel through his boxers and rubbed his thumb into his slit.
“You’re fuckin’ sick, you know that?”
“I can indulge you,” Armand said, “Just say the word. No one will ever know.”
Daniel looked down at his lap and saw the dark circle of precum spread out along the edges. Armand was so skilled with his hands. He could convince Daniel to walk rim-rod straight, right off a pier.
“Yes,” Daniel whispered.
Armand was gone in a blink.
Daniel heard dragging in the hallway. Armand pulled the body in by his ankle just enough for his face to be in view of the bed, lying on its side. Ricky was mostly unharmed. Blood spilled from his eyes and the cloudy white of them were wide and terrified. His expression froze on a plea. It was no easeful death.
“Jesus.”
Armand stood between his legs again, blocking Daniel’s line of sight. Armand looked down at him from above and a feeling of calm washed over him. The ghost of a smile on his lips said one thing; Jesus is dead, focus on me.
Daniel hooked his fingers into Armand’s boxers without breaking eye contact and pulled them down his thighs. His cock sprung free and Daniel tucked the fabric under his balls.
Armand shuddered and moaned in encouragement and ran his slender hands through Daniel’s curls. He gripped the nape of his neck with one hand and fed Daniel the length of his cock with the other.
Armand was slender in size, but the way his cockhead battered the back of Daniel’s throat made his eyes and mouth spring water. Daniel felt a trail of drool escape his lips and run down his neck. The noises his throat made as it clicked and expanded were obscenely wet and Armand’s deep measured breaths only spurred him on. He stuck out his tongue to give Armand more room. It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of Armand, taking his pleasure and getting comfortable inside him—
“Enough,” Armand said without warning. He pulled his cock free. “Lie on your back.”
“Okay,” Daniel rasped. “Bossy.”
The corners of Daniel’s mouth felt deliciously stretched and overworked. He basked in how primal and warm his body felt. How everything seemed to flow like an electric current from deep inside his solar plexus to the tip of his dick. He felt how his boxers stuck to his wet crotch and tugged at them.
“Take them off,” Armand commanded.
“Would a ‘please’ ever kill you?” Daniel took them off anyway. As he positioned himself on the starched sheets, he felt the body staring at the side of his face. Before he could turn to look, Armand’s hands clawed his face forward.
“He is our audience,” Armand said. “We perform. We don’t watch.”
Daniel nodded slowly in compliance and Armand balanced himself perfectly on Daniel’s chest.
“Look at me. Open your mouth.”
Daniel did what he was told. Armand reared back and spat directly on his tongue and with one smooth glide, slipped his cock back into Daniel’s waiting gullet. Armand’s hips swivelled back and forth on his chest, and Daniel could do no more than rest his hands on the globes of his ass and feel the ridges of Armand’s length on his tongue.
Daniel’s fingers eventually found the crack of his ass. He ran the pad of his finger around his rim whilst his other hand held him open, and with no hesitation, he worked his index finger into Armand’s entrance, one joint at a time. Armand whined and bucked his hips faster, and Daniel knew that if he could see him the way he could feel him, he’d look perfectly angelic.
“What was that you said earlier?” Armand asked after settling into their rhythm. “About me saving you from a ‘good fuck’?”
He eased out of Daniel's mouth but he was perched on his chest still. A string of saliva still connected them.
“What?” Daniel coughed. “You plan on being bad fuck?”
“It depends,” he said. “Stretch your arms for me.”
For the hundredth time that night, Daniel obeyed despite his better judgment. There was just enough room for both wrists to reach the edges of the bed. Immediately, Daniel felt his limbs go heavy, and then he lost all feeling in them. This wasn’t like Armand taking control over his motor functions and puppeteering him. Paralysis kissed every muscle and tendon.
“What the fuck, Armand? I can’t move!”
“I will ride and you will watch,” he said. Daniel felt his cock twitch. At least that still worked. Armand looked over his shoulder and nodded to the man in the doorway. “He will watch too.”
“I-I don’t know if I’m into that.”
“Shhh,” Armand soothed him. “Just maintain your erection. That shouldn’t be difficult for you.”
Armand moved down so he could sit on Daniel’s belly. He bit into two fingers and Daniel watched the blood as it ran down his palm. He reached behind to stretch himself open, loud and dramatic, twisting this way and that to acclimate to the burn. As if his fingers couldn’t fit. He affected his moans in such a way that sounded as if he were crying.
“Fuuuck,” Daniel groaned. He wanted to throw his head back but he had no control of his neck. His cock, sympathetic organ it was, bobbed and swayed, tapping against Armand’s warm backside for him. Under normal circumstances he could cum just from that.
Armand wasn't satisfied with the stretch until a long while later. Until Daniel was out of his mind with lust and frustration from not being able to help him. By the time Armand sat up on his knees and forced himself down on Daniel’s cock, Daniel was almost in tears, whimpering and whining for a crumb of stimulation in the one place he could still feel it.
Daniel spared a glance at the body in the doorway. In a haze he imagined that, with its wide open eyes and its mouth, hanging chapped and agape, Ricky was in awe of the creature riding Daniel to death too. He nodded to the corpse as if saying, “Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”
Even though Daniel wanted nothing more than to raise his legs and slam upwards into him, he knew Armand didn't need it. He had something to prove and it festered far beyond what was happening on that bed.
“Back towards me, Daniel,” Armand gasped. “I am flattered by your thoughts, but do not stop looking at me. Seeing myself the way you see me is—”
Armand cut himself off to kiss Daniel sloppily, and like everything else, Daniel took it the best he could.
“He doesn’t deserve your attention,” Armand sighed. “No one does. No one but me.”
Daniel felt satisfaction sing all throughout his chest. He felt it in the claw marks around his nipples and beneath the flesh of his damp stomach.
“It's burning you up inside, huh?” Daniel teased. “That I almost let him fuck me?”
Armand’s cry sounded as if it was ripped from his stomach.
”That he’d be all over me if you didn't get here fast enough. You got here in your PJs. Did you run the whole way?”
He felt the white-hot pain of a slap crack against his cheek. The sound rang in his ears. He was so aroused, it almost made him pass out. He felt another slap and then bruising kisses all over his neck and face. When Armand was done Daniel worked his jaw to feel if he broke it.
“You're mine, Daniel. Mine.”
“Holy shit, baby,” Daniel groaned. “You're mine too, let me show you. Set me free so I can show you.”
There was a single rivulet of blood that ran from Armand's ear and pooled into his collarbone. It was the first thing Daniel noticed after the pins and needles in his arms and legs. He was regaining feeling in his limbs but what he felt most was thirst.
His arms wrapped around Armand’s slender waist and he licked at the blood on his neck. He licked up the blood from the shell of Armand’s ear, lapping at the lobe with his tongue. He bit into it hard when he was done and relished in Armand's scream.
He could feel Armand’s sticky skin gliding against his, the lips against his chest, whimpering as they rocked together. It was the kind of high that made you taste colours. What a curse it was to go from nothing at all to everything all at once. He planted his feet to the bed and slammed into him as promised.
“You’re close?” Daniel panted.
“Yes, yes. Don’t stop.”
Armand wrapped his arms around Daniel’s shoulder and rocked himself to completion. Daniel teetered on the edge now. Daniel could feel it in the way he throbbed inside Armand’s battered walls. His balls drew up tight against his body. He felt Armand’s chest rumble as his fangs sliced into Daniel’s neck. Daniel cried out and pumped ropes of spend inside him, collapsing at the centre of a world that ceased to stop spinning.
Daniel sat across from the floral couch and held the gaze of the body as it stared back at him. He searched behind every locked door inside himself and found not an ounce of feeling for it.
He didn't know it yet, but he was being conditioned to see death in all its variety.
Once, many nights ago, Armand guided him through the mechanisms of the easeful death. Honey on his tongue, and all that. Since then, Daniel had seen Armand kill, blinded by the madness of hunger, exactly two times. Tonight was something new entirely— the beginning of something uniquely them.
“You ever think I'll end up in jail? I do.” Daniel looked up at Armand through the doorway when he was satisfied with the scene. They'd decided on staging an overdose. The cocaine was already available and Ricky looked like the kinda guy. “They'd get me on Desecration of a Corpse, I think.”
Armand hummed from his spot on the bed and ran a hand through his hair to tame it. Daniel’s eyes traced the lines of his body, from his arms to his stomach. To the glistening mess of blood and cum on his inner thighs.
“It won't be the last time you desecrate a corpse.”
“Funny,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes. “You're lucky you're hot. People overlook all sorts of weird shit when you're hot.”
He sauntered into the bedroom and bumped into the dresser, knocking a stack of envelopes to the ground. Daniel picked one up to snoop inside. He climbed onto the bed and into Armand's waiting arms.
“Am I to understand that you're ‘people’?”
“You bet,” he murmured. “Huh.”
“What is it?”
Daniel turned the envelope to Armand so he could read it. “His name's Andrew.”