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“This is actually really good for Armand,” Louis was saying, as he rubbed Daniel through his boxers. “To take responsibility of his fledgling, and then deny himself the pleasure of seeing him with his pants down.” He motioned to where he had Daniel slung over his lap, face-down into the cushions of the couch. “To have him see you like this, I suppose,” he tapped Daniel, gently, on the ass. Then he pulled Daniel’s underwear down.
Daniel groaned. The air in the penthouse was cool on his backside, suddenly exposed and newly sensitive, tingling with anticipation. He was leaking, a little, into the fabric of his briefs—Louis removed the problem for him, there, too, pulling the fabric down under his balls. Daniel wanted to squirm, being so exposed, but Louis rested a heavy hand on Daniel’s lower back, and he settled.
“His daddy wasn’t a very nice man,” Louis said, all clandestine, palm rubbing circles into Daniel’s right buttocks. “Didn’t treat him right. His daddy wasn’t much of anything what a good daddy should be.” The left buttocks, and Daniel felt sort of dizzy, on edge, blood pooling south as Louis held the prolonged thread of tension. “But you already know that, don’t you?” Louis asked. His hand stopped on Daniel’s ass.
The temptation was there, of course, to really run his mouth. That was who Daniel was after all—always running, always chasing it. Running and running and running, circling the thing until you got it clamped in your teeth. And what he wanted, most of all, was his maker, you know, the one who had come back, finally, after the years of nothing. The one who finally wanted to teach him in the blood, to bring him up into it, to cradle Daniel as if he was his child—yet wouldn’t take him over his knee. So, yeah, sue Daniel for wanting to chase him.
But Daniel was a mean old dog now. And he’d learned that getting your ass beat was an… occupational hazard—anything was worth it to keep Louis talking. Which meant the words were just begging to come out: I heard his daddy groomed him into a little bitch.
A sharp slap on Daniel’s ass, like a promise. “Do not,” Louis warned, low and dangerous. Daniel felt his whole lower body almost fizzing in anticipation.
“Did you know his daddy took him in, and the first thing he did was rape him in the bathtub,” it wasn’t a question—Louis’ voice was grim, and Daniel felt embarrassed, suddenly. He hadn’t known that. Should Louis be telling him that?
Louis wasn’t done. “His daddy indulged every sexual whim of his little boy, and when he got bored of indulging him, passed him around to his friends for playtime.” He patted Daniel meaningfully on the right asscheek. “That what you want, when you chase your maker?”
What friends did Armand even have to pass him around to? “I’m a grown man,” Daniel grumbled. “I’m an old man. I’m not a little boy.”
Louis laughed, the sound shocked out of him. He playfully slapped Daniel again, on the left side this time. “But look at you,” he said teasingly, “you’re just so little.”
And that was—well. Armand said that to Daniel all the time. Young in the blood, or something. Daniel hadn’t thought Armand was referring to—that he was thinking of—
Louis’ voice turned sad, suddenly. “His daddy turned him in a vampire, and then dropped him in the middle of the ocean to clean him off. Made him swim all the way back to shore and everything. Hell of an ice-bath.”
Armand hadn’t done that to Daniel, either. Armand had left him, for a long time, maybe because he didn’t trust himself—maybe because he thought the cycle would continue, somehow, whether he wanted it to or not. Still, this was Louis— Louis, the man who took Daniel in after Armand turned him, the man who put Daniel back together again when his life swiftly existed with his human blood and other fluids. Daniel wanted Louis’ smile back. And frankly, he wanted Louis to touch his dick again. He twisted turned his torso to look up at Louis and bat his eyelashes all pretty. He aimed for sweet when he said, “My daddy left me with you.”
Louis raised an eyebrow in response, though Daniel could see the grin hiding in the corner of his mouth. “I’m not a very nice man, Daniel.”
Daniel’s cock pulsed, releasing precome all over Louis’ lap, and Louis gave a disapproving tut. “Is that what you like,” Louis said, disappointment laced into every syllable, but Daniel knew him well enough at this point to know he wasn’t really disappointed at all. Louis rolled him over, pulling Daniel more firmly into his lap, and examined his erection. “You are a naughty boy, Daniel,” he said, all low, and Daniel let himself feel a little cowed by that, lit up with embarrassment and a little bit of fear, caught in the boundaries of Louis’ hands.
“Sorry, daddy,” he moaned, and then yelled when Louis slapped him there, right on his cock. “Fu-u-uck,” he groaned.
“Is that what you want?” Louis asked, trailing a finger over the vein in Daniel’s cock, and he tensed, awaiting the next blow. “You want me to do to you what he won’t? You want me to make you my little bitch?”
God, yes. Now they were getting somewhere. Louis had stepped up for everything else a maker should do, why not this too? Louis’ fangs came out, and Daniel felt like he was dumb and twenty again—he knew how to play this game, and his body supplied anyway, readily, the fear and arousal rushing out of him as a stream of “No, no, no, no…”
Louis flipped Daniel back onto his stomach, pushed his head into the couch cushions to lean down and husk in his ear. “You think your maker would stop, if he were here?”
Daniel took a moment to imagine it. Armand leaning over him. Armand’s breath in his ear. Armand holding his head to the couch cushions. His stomach seemed to drop out beneath him, Daniel couldn’t help but rut into the couch cushions.
“You think your daddy wouldn’t take advantage, if he found you like this?” Louis pushed down on Daniel’s head to press himself up, to better get his hand down over the curve of Daniel’s ass, to press between his asscheeks. “You think your daddy wouldn’t take what he wanted from you?”
Louis had cut his nails—thank fuck—so Daniel didn’t bleed when Louis stuck his finger in him. “Your little hole is so tight for me,” Louis praised, and Daniel felt stupid with the way his dick jumped. “Would be tight for your daddy, too. Though, he wouldn’t bother clipping the claws,” Louis informed him. “You’re lucky you have me.”
Daniel groaned. It didn’t matter how much they did this, he felt like he was tight all over again every time. Why couldn’t vampire regeneration restore full range of motion to his knees, instead of restoring his old man celibacy pucker every single night. Louis bullied another finger in, and Daniel started to pant. “You’re being such a good boy for me,” Louis purred. “So brave.”
“Of course, your daddy probably wouldn’t even do this,” Louis scissored his fingers in demonstration, and Daniel shuddered. “He’d probably just hold you down,” Louis gripped a fist into the back of Daniel’s head, tipping him off his lap and fully into the couch. “Bite you right here,” Louis leaned down, licked over the giant mouthed-shaped scar on Daniel’s neck, and then fit his mouth over it. Louis said the next words right against Daniel’s skin, fangs just brushing the scar tissue: “And fuck you until you can’t scream anymore.” Daniel hadn’t even realized Louis had taken his pants off until Louis was pushing into him with his cock, bullying his way inside—and Daniel really wasn’t stretched enough for this, but that was part of the fantasy: Louis wasn’t even going to ask—was going to…
Louis laughed lowly in his ear. “It’s not rape if you want it, Danny.”
That hit Daniel like an electric shock, all full up with Louis, shivering. Louis wasn’t done though, was still running a line of filth from his mouth: “Would you like it, if you daddy did this to you? If he pushed you down, and used you, like you were his? Like this is what he made you for?”
Wow, that was… so hot, in the most messed-up way—Daniel had to rut against the cushy fabric of Louis’ dumb couch a few times to take the edge of, a fraught pleasurable sensation on his cock as he imagined it: Armand claiming him, Armand pressing Daniel down and…
Louis wasn’t moving. He was in Daniel, all around him… pressing down on him, mouth ghosting over his neck—that bastard was making him wait for it. “What are you waiting for,” he grumbled.
“Your daddy would make you wait for it.” Daniel groaned. Louis was such a fucking asshole. Louis wasn’t done, though. “He’d want you to beg for it, before he let you have it. He wouldn’t let you go until you do.”
“What if I said ‘No, I don’t want it, let me go,’” Daniel’s voice was shaking a little. He could feel Louis getting harder, somehow, even at Daniel’s feeble impersonation of fear—figures as much, the freak.
Daniel was hyper-aware of the sound of Louis behind him as he swallowed, as his breath came a little faster. “That never worked for him and his daddy. Why do you think it would work for you?”
That’s when Louis started to fuck him, and Daniel was not stretched enough for this, but it made it easier to imagine: that he didn’t want it, that he was just little, that his daddy was taking advantage, and that played on all his old fears. Going to bars, going home with whoever offered him the best deal, a warm mouth or a warm hole for some relief from the torment of being alive. Daniel was always chasing it, that high, and the sense of social contract had him playing into a lot of perversions to get there, had him whining and saying yes, Daddy, had him panting around another man’s dick, smiling and sweating and alight with the drugs in his bloodstream.
He used to get himself in a lot of trouble, getting in over his head when someone wanted to play rough with a faggot. Daniel was only as gay as they were though, and men like them would still fuck him for drugs, so, whatever. Daniel hadn’t considered himself a faggot, or anything—he was there for drugs, and the people giving it to him were more likely to give it to guys who would give them something back. Simple as that. Sure, things had changed for Daniel, over the years—now, undead and experiencing new sexual awakenings, he could admit (or, not admit—they could just read it, straight from his mind) to wanting to play rough with the other guys. But, the way these vampires seem to look down at him like he was so little, that’s what sent him spiraling back to when he would spend all night sipping Grasshoppers, just for how the heavy cream looked lingering in his mouth.
Daniel had been so incredibly vulnerable at that time in his life. Fucking off from his parents, then his college friends, then his college in general, chasing highs from strangers, constantly rubbing the few coins he had together, trying to decide between drugs and food and drugs and rent and drugs, fucking off from any friends who tried to check up on him, who tried to get him to change, to stop, putting his life in the hands of men who might not even care if he lived or died, he was just some faggot they picked up in a bar—
“Shush,” Louis said, said, almost sweetly. “You think so loud. You’re too little to think like that, anyway.” Louis was really enjoying himself, pistoning out of Daniel, the way smoothed by precome, mostly, probably—fuck, that hurt.
It must have felt good, because it gave Louis a dirty mouth. “You’re little, and you’ll let your daddy, or your daddy’s friends, or whoever fuck you in the ass.” Louis planted his hand next to Daniel’s head to really drill into him, and Daniel felt tossed around in his own body, inching up the bedsheets as Louis fucked his muscles into a vampire-shaped pile of jello on the couch.
Daniel would have been too old for this fifteen years ago. Thought he had put all his years doing this behind long, long ago, and yet. Here Daniel was.
This was something Louis brought out in him. Ever since Louis found him, laying in a pool of his own blood on Louis’ floor, drew Daniel a bath, wrapped him in a blanket, and brought him some warmed A negative—Louis made Daniel feel like he was dumb and twenty-something again, fried out of his mind and needing care. Louis had taken care of him that night, then another, and when Daniel felt like he was pushing his luck, Louis followed him across the ocean, where Daniel had very nearly gored a very nice flight attendant on the way back to the States. Through the airport, where Daniel had’t managed to control himself so well—Louis picked up the pieces, cleaning him off, and dragging him back through the airport like a misbehaving child and right back onto a flight, final destination: Dubai.
There was something about Louis, as he cleaned the lingering blood off of Daniel’s earlobe on the plane—there was something about Louis, as he groaned above Daniel, and ejaculated warm blood inside his asshole. Daniel just couldn’t help himself. Louis was good to him. Louis also chewed up all Daniel’s fears like they were an endangered prey animal at his dinner table. At least when he spit them back out onto Daniel, it was hot as fuck.
Louis pulled out of Daniel—ugh—and wiped the lingering blood from his asshole. He flopped onto Daniel’s back, wrapping a hand around Daniel’s chin to turn his face, to kiss his cheekbone. “Mmm. That was a good one. Same time next week?” Daniel made a grumbling kind of noise, but who was he kidding. It was a yes, and Louis knew it. “Maybe don’t tell Armand about that one,” Louis added.
Daniel guffawed, cock bouncing as he tried to smother his laughter, as Louis rolled them onto their sides. “Yes, daddy,” he grumbled, and Louis laughed. Then he reached ran his hand downwards, where Daniel was aching for attention.
“Aw,” Louis cooed. “Does my little boy need some help? Did his daddy treat him unfairly today?”
Daniel didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer, just arched back into Louis, and let the waves of pleasure wash over him, while his daddy whispered filth in his ear.