Chapter 1: Turn Me, Baby
Chapter Text
I head into the elevator, laden down with bags. Most are for upgraded recording equipment but I did buy some new clothes while I was out - not that I care about that except a certain vampire likes it when I look hot -
and ohh the look you give me when I’m in an outfit you like - looking me up and down with those smouldering eyes… mmm.
I stare up at the elevator’s floor display - I could have never afforded more than a seedy walk-up in the Bronx before this - and even then I would have needed seedy roommates - but with you in my life, I’m renting a clean spacious 1.5-bedroom apartment in the Bowery. The area is gritty but that’s the way of subcultures - and it’s non-negotiable. I have to put my foot down about something - I’m not about to live on fucking Park Avenue.
But this area works for both of us - there’s thugs and drug addicts for you to lure into the arms of a painless death -
and plenty of music, artists, and drugs for me -
and close enough to Greenwich Village should we care for a walk on the wild side. I still haven’t forgotten that night in the Argent Club, your glowing eyes setting my skin ablaze… fuck, Armand, fuck - how are things between us getting ever hotter-?
The elevator dings and I jump. Feeling warm, I let out a slow exhale as the doors open - and I head towards the apartment.
I test the door - unlocked. Of course. I’ve told you over and over not to do that… but apparently it amuses you to think of someone breaking in to steal a TV and finding a very awake vampire.
I close the door behind me and lock it. I’d try to go in quietly to surprise you but who am I kidding? As if I could sneak -
A shadow flits across the room - I’m slammed against the door, and the bags fall to the floor with a thump. I wince at the impact against my back and thighs and ass - you went at me with a whip last night before railing me over the sofa, god that was intense - but I’m more concerned about the very expensive recording equipment…
“Armand -“ I protest, shaken but aroused -
And then there are lips on my neck - and then I stop giving a shit about the very expensive recording equipment - and then there are teeth at my throat - and I hear a growl -
Oh - oh god –
"I missed you too," you manage to mumble before it turns into a groan as my fangs pierce your neck. I've got addicted to your blood, it's manna from heaven, it's nectar from the Olympians, it's delicious and I drink from you nearly every day, just a little, just a very little, and I have read up on foods that are beneficial and make sure you drink a blended concoction of green leaves and fruits every morning, made in your special blender that I do not use for any of my more aesthetically or experimentally minded blending experiments. Or hardly ever, really.
I love preparing food for you, and as long as I don’t get too inventive you are happy to let me. We have a great kitchen which has so many fun gadgets to play with, whether it’s preparing food or just seeing what happens if you put a rat in a microwave or a fork in a garbage disposal.
I have discovered delight, an emotion I haven't felt for centuries, but this one is making up for it. The 20th century is an absolute delight. Culturally, musically, technologically, there is so much happening *right* now, in the 1970s - it seems like every month has a new exciting machine, a revolutionary book that we discuss for nights, a show that has us dazzled. We are on Broadway and off-Broadway and in small smoky bars and lush opera houses every night of the week, or at places where anarchists or academics or journalists or students or artists gather to discuss the world - and you can talk with any one of them; it's a wonderful talent you have; you ask the right questions and they shower you with their thoughts and insights and make them feel like it is they who have learned something at the end of the conversation.
"You need to have a bath and change, beloved, we are due in the Metropolitan in an hour..." I mumble as I'm licking your wound closed. "Did you pick up that burgundy silk jacket?"
As your fangs sink into my flesh, I feel that familiar rush - the thrill of danger, surrender, ecstasy - fuck this is better than any drug -
And as you sip from my blood - the fountain of youth and life and the essence of me - making small sounds of pleasure and satisfaction, I have to stop myself from moaning and falling against you and telling you to take it all - not to kill me, not that! - but to bring me over to the shadowy realm of your existence -
because you'll have to do it one day Armand - I refuse to accept being apart from you or - growing old and dying while you watch! - I'm not sure which would be worse -
it's a small secret thought that's been germinating like a rebellious seed in rocky black soil... but not only can't I express it, I have to shield my thoughts - if you know I'm thinking it, I don't know how you'd react to -
stop thinking Daniel -
focus on the pleasure Daniel -
but the pleasure is over all too soon as you withdraw your fangs from my throat. I'm left blinking at you stupidly as you form words with your mouth and -
"Jacket?" I repeat, clasping your lapels, not willing to let you go.
You chuckle as you examine me closely. "You're always so dazed after - did I drink too much, beloved?"
I give you a faint smile. "For the millionth time - no. I just have a strong reaction to your teeth in my neck..." I say in a breathy voice.
You give me a heated look before glancing down at the bags on the floor. "Is the silk jacket in there? It will get wrinkled, Daniel," you chide.
"I didn't mean to drop them, Armand," I say with exaggerated patience. "They fell when I was attacked by a fiend in my apartment..."
If you're going to get me hot and heavy, shouldn't you finish what you started? But no, you're distracted by the thought of dressing me -
a moment later you've pulled away and you're pawing through my purchases making sounds of intrigue and satisfaction - just not the kind of satisfaction I would have preferred... and before too long I find myself pushed towards the bathroom - but at least you're coming with me. You like undressing me as much as dressing me - and you manage to make both activities unbelievably erotic. But you also love to drive me to distraction with flirtation and teasing and edging - and then pulling away to leave me stewing in sexual desire and frustration - it's a chemical cocktail I'm getting rather used to coursing through my veins but it doesn't get any easier - I wonder if it makes my blood taste different? Better?
I hear the door close behind us and you move towards me with a coy smile. fuck I want you Armand, I think longingly. Your hands trail over my clothing and my eyelids flutter shut.
I love showing you off and the opera is a great place to do it - you can hardly be overdressed at an opera. Burgundy looks amazing on you - perfectly offsets your green eyes, pale skin, brown curls. We are most definitely the most attractive couple in the house, and we both get plenty of attention from the other operagoers in the interval. Two girls convince us to see them afterwards when they’ve ditched their parents, at a party a friend of theirs is having. They have already decided who will get whom - alas, ladies, my interest in the fair sex is purely as conversational partners.
They convince us we don’t need to change, that it will be an absolute hoot if we all show up in our opera gear, and we take a taxi with them which pulls up in front of a decidedly shabby building. I’m hoping they hadn’t planned to show up here in their expensive dresses and shrugs if we hadn’t come - who knows what dangers might be lurking in a New York night…
They have nothing to fear from me; I’ve eaten not too long ago.
You are remarkably equanimous about me feeding… At first I was reluctant to tell you, tried to hide it, but you were equally reluctant to let me go off on my own without telling you where I was going or when I’d be back - you were afraid I’d disappear again when I wouldn’t say what I was off to do.
Eventually you guessed it yourself… you’d seen me grow hungrier when I looked at you, drank from you, and you know what vampires are - and it was a *relief* to you, that I was only going out to kill someone, not leaving you alone.
I did my best to explain that it is not usually like in San Francisco; that I don’t try to *convince* people they want to die, it’s easy to find people who really want to go, or people who would harm and kill others - but you didn’t seem to be that worried about my prospective victims.
“Look Armand you need to eat. There are tons of people out there who kill for much less - aggression or differences of opinion or nationality or skin colour -
like you said when I had steak, there are many more evil people than evil cows. Yet I still eat cows without bothering to find out about their morality or lust for life first.
I trust you. You’ve been doing this for - centuries - I know you are a good man, and I know you will be - discerning in choosing your prey. You are not evil just because you need to live.”
That had led to a long discussion on the nature of evil, but you kissed me goodbye when I left and kissed me welcome when I returned, without any hesitation considering what I’d done with my mouth. Nowadays, you’re more likely to encourage me to eat than me realizing I’m going hungry - you can see my skin going greyish, my eyes and hair dull, and suggest I go hunt. You’ve even pointed out people who were obnoxious - though I don’t think you were very serious.
The girls take us up to a very smoky apartment where there is little light, much noise, and many people, some dancing, some lying around on cushions and sofas, many drinking, most smoking marijuana.
We’ve been smoking this regularly as well - unlike what Fritz the Cat tried to tell us, it’s milder than Lucy, and usually quite pleasant - we spend hours just lying in each other’s arms and talking about anything and everything.
Black Sabbath is playing as plumes of smoke curl towards the ceiling - this reminds me a bit of my college dorm but without all the endless melodrama and posturing for status. The only thing that’s of interest here is escapism and pleasure. Including the pleasure of being wanted… one of the girls takes her black bowler hat and puts it on me. She regards me with a tilted head then pouts that it looks better on me.
“That’s true. It suits you very well,” you say with a lazy smile - eyeing me and ignoring her. She looks at you in shock. Her friend giggles maniacally and pulls her away to get another drink.
“Armand,” I say quietly and then burst out laughing. “You were - supposed to say it looks - better on her,” I explain in between laughs as you look at me in bewilderment.
“Surely you could see it sat too high on her hair - it made her head look strange. She should have asked someone’s opinion before leaving her house…” you say, waving your hand dismissively.
I glance around - I think the girls are out of earshot, but I can’t say for sure. They’re pouring drinks and talking intently.
“Yes and humans are so well known for common sense and rational thought…” I grin.” Speaking of which -“ I swipe up a half-empty bottle of wine from a table that seems to have been forgotten by the couple arguing on the sofa. I lift the bottle to my lips and drink. It’s a dry red wine - not my go-to but it will do.
You’re openly staring at the fighting couple, looking intrigued.
“Armand?” I ask.
“Apparently he was being overly friendly with her roommate while he was waiting for her to get home,” you say, lighting up a cigarette. “I haven’t heard the explanation for that yet... but it should be illuminating…”
The man’s talking himself into more and more of a bind; it’s really quite amusing. It would make a good play, I think - it could be a simple but profound tragedy, in which the audience finds out more and more of the cesspit that is their marriage…
I wonder if you could write plays? I’m not directing ever again, but I guess I could give some ideas, some pointers…
You and the girls come over; you sit on my left, ‘my’ girl on my right. She really is beautiful - the bone structure of her face is very fortunate, and she’s accentuated it perfectly with makeup. The makeup of this time is a great improvement on even twenty years ago; and it’s worn more by men outside the theatre as well. I wonder what you would look like…. And if you would have any skills in applying it. Probably not - could I do it? It’s - a bit close - I don’t know.
Maybe this girl would be willing to try. She has a good eye and skilful hand.
Her bowler-hat-less friend is hanging against you, passing a joint. You take a few tokes, so do I, pass it on to the girl at my side, whose name is Maria. She takes very dainty little draughts, letting the smoke flow out of her mouth most sensually… I really enjoy looking at her; she’s elegant and almost otherworldly in her looks. She doesn’t fit in this environment; she seems - not aloof, but aloft, almost - as if she is drifting just a bit over the background film of the party.
Her arm is around me, stroking my and your shoulders alternately, and occasionally her friend’s hand, who is doing the same.
She is less fortunate in the beauty department; her hair is too sculpted with too much lacquer, her makeup just a bit off, the underlying face pretty enough, but nothing out of the ordinary. She and Maria are not close - their parents are friends; Maria is down from university for a week, but they hadn’t seen each other for over a year before then.
You and the girl, whose name is Soo With Double O, are making short work of a bottle of whisky. Maria is quiet, lost in her thoughts drifting on the Mary, as you have taken to calling marijuana (‘She’s Lucy’s little cousin’), and I’m happy to as well. You and Soo are mostly quiet too - we’re all just enjoying what you call the ‘vibe’. We’re lying back against some cushions and each other and it’s all very soft and warm and pleasant.
I realize Soo is going to kiss you before you do. It’s not an unpleasant realization - I do wonder what it would look like to see you kiss. Though I guess I might prefer Maria; you’re both such outlandish beauties...
As I smoke weed and drink whisky, my buzz grows more and more pleasant - my current companion Soo (I still can't get over that spelling) seems to have taken a shine to me. She's touching me here and there but thankfully she's more focused on moving her body to the music than talking. She doesn't strike me as a very enthusiastic conversationalist from the little she's said - at the moment, anyway. I guess she wants to just enjoy being young and drunk and high, and to feel sexy and desired - I understand that all too well. I would have been perfectly happy to indulge her in the time Before Armand - god knows I wasn't doing very well in my high school or college days when it came to girls... But I've noticed that when I'm with you I get a lot more attention from both men and women - it's like you turn on a light inside me, and now others can see it too.
I'm still getting used to being in human company with you - it was odd at first but I'm so glad you enjoy it. I was worried it would be difficult for you, but you've assured me as long as you feed regularly it's not unduly tempting. Being the age you are, you don't need it as frequently as young vampires or in large volumes - and from what you've said it's going out to seek prey that you enjoy even more than the nourishment.
It's fascinating, all of it - but you seem just as fascinated with the human world - the politics, the ideologies, the conflicts - the innovation, the technology - god the gadgets make you downright giddy! I'll never forget the first time you saw a blender on TV and insisted we go out and buy several models immediately. The look on your face when I first pressed the button and you saw the raspberries puree in an instant - you pushed me aside and began to puree all the fruit we had purchased at the corner market. And then when you'd used it all, you wanted to go out to buy more! I had to put my foot down about that. It was going to take me forever to drink all that juice as it was... when I poured the foamy red smoothie into a glass, I couldn't help but laugh when you stared at it like it was a Picasso.
I smile at the memory, dimly aware of Soo leaning towards me. I'm still picturing your face when she brings her lips to mine - what?! oh! -
I don't even have time to look at you but - given what happened at the Argent, and things you've mentioned - I imagine that you'd be more than OK with it if something happened between me and this girl.
Tentatively I move my lips against hers. I don't know why this isn't quite working for me - I always liked kissing. Maybe the chemistry is off. I don't know.
I bring my hands to her hips and try to deepen the kiss but it feels strange - like clothing from a past era. It just - doesn't suit me anymore. It doesn't fit. I pull away. She smiles, asks if I want to find somewhere private to be alone.
Honestly? No - no I don't, Soo. The question is how do I get out of this without hurting her feelings? And without - disappointing you?
I mumble something about not feeling well, and I stumble off in the direction of the bathroom - she looks surprised. And you and Maria look surprised. I guess I'm just surprising everybody. Shit. I need a moment alone to pull myself together.
When I'm at a safe distance down the hall, I wipe my mouth. I don't know why I feel this way - she was cute and perfectly nice, and you seemed to be all for it - you would have enjoyed the novelty I guess? Everything is so fascinating to you...
In the bathroom, I have a piss and then stare at myself in the mirror. I forgot I was still wearing the bowler hat. I look like a stranger to myself - serious and troubled...
Why do I have a feeling this wouldn't just have been about watching me do something hot? Are you - testing the waters to see how I'd fare without you? For the day you leave me to have a human life?? Fuck!
Wait wait wait - am I just reading into this and having a meltdown for no reason?? You haven't mentioned anything lately - but I know how you think...
I press my palm against my forehead and close my eyes. OK - no need to freak out, Daniel. I'm just not in the mood to hook up with some random girl. You'll understand. It's fine.
I exhale shakily and move the crowd back to the living room. Maria and Soo are dancing to Lou Reed, slowly rocking, their eyes closed. Thank Christ.
I sit next to you on the sofa.
"Weird night," I sigh and reach for the bottle of whisky. The flow of it across my tongue is so soothing.
It is fascinating to see you kiss… normally I am too close up to observe, of course. You are beautiful when you close your eyes, when you move your head back…
But then you’re off, saying you don’t feel well - that’s very possible, Mary and wine and whiskey can have that effect, but I’m not sure - were you unhappy with the kiss? You looked a bit flustered, rather than the pale or almost green your face goes when you feel sick.
I’ve got better at keeping myself from reading your mind inadvertently, and at not doing so advertently - you don’t like me doing it when you can’t do the same, and I have learned how to block out the ‘loud’ thoughts I had trouble avoiding in the past.
So I don’t; I just wait until you get back. Soo and Maria are dancing solemnly to some mystical music; Maria has unpinned her long dark brown hair and it’s mesmerising in its undulations. I almost startle when you are suddenly next to me.
You take a large swig from the bottle, put it on a side table with a *thump*, and are on my lap, looking determined at me, bend over, and kiss me.
Ah - apparently this is a space where we can do that. You have tried to explain the different rules for different places to me, but it all seems very complicated and very much built on ‘vibes’, again, so I’ve followed your lead when not in a place that is explicitly for gay people. I haven’t seen any other men kissing here, but no one seems to be disturbed by the display, so that’s good. You pull back and look at me - an odd look, half questioning, half defiant, quite unreadable. I smile and stroke your jaw with my hand. You have a very slight stubble, barely visible, making stroking just that bit unsmooth.
The sofa moves. Maria and Soo are on either side of us.
“Don’t start without us…” Soo chides smiling and leans in to kiss me, but I manage to deflect her, just, and she falls in between us, giggling. Maria floats down, her hair covering her friend like a curtain before she starts kissing her.
I look up at your face over the girls. You look a bit bewildered. Are you not pleased with this situation?
You point at your temple, the sign we agreed you’d use when you *want* me to read your surface thoughts.
*‘Can we talk first?’* with concern, discomfort - oh beloved, what’s wrong?
I nod, you get up, and I gently nudge the girls apart so I can stand as well.
“Daniel isn’t feeling a hundred per cent - he needs some fresh air, that will sort him out. We’ll be back in a moment, don’t worry…” I smile and they happily lie on the sofa in each other’s arms. A joint is nearby and I make sure it gets passed to them as we walk towards a balcony. The door is closed but not locked, so we step outside, where another couple are kissing against the railing. I hold the door open for them and suggest gently that they are cold, and they walk inside.
“What’s on your mind, beloved?” I ask.
My mouth opens and then closes again. How do I say what I'm feeling? And why is it so hard? Have you ever given me reason to doubt that I can speak openly and honestly to you?
No- but -
Tears spring to my eyes. "I don't know! How can I tell you when - I don't even know what's wrong?" I say, my voice cracking.
You look at me in a way that's so concerned, so loving - before enfolding me in your arms.
"Sometimes - you don't know until you say it, beloved," you murmur - so reassuringly I want to break down sobbing. But I can’t- I won’t -
“You like to see the words when you're writing - and hear the words when you're expressing yourself,” you continue. “So - if you start talking, you'll get to where you need to go."
I sniffle, stunned at how well you know me already. "Oh... I guess that's probably true..."
"It is," you confirm, making me laugh through my tears which I didn't realize were still flowing.
"OK. Say it's true. Say I told you - 'Armand I'm not sure about... how I feel about girls. It's like - I left that part of my life behind-' " I stop to take a shaky breath and the next thing I know words are tumbling out. "I was lying to myself! - twisting myself into knots! I was such a fucking mess! And - I don't like thinking about how things felt then! It feels so fucking good to explore something else! Maybe I’ll want to fool around with a girl again one day... but not yet. Not tonight. And not with Soo!"
My voice sounds raw - like the truth has gouged out chunks of my throat - and tears have spilled out onto my cheeks. "What if I said all that to you?" I say, feeling myself begin to tremble.
Your arms tighten around me and your hand caresses my hair. "What do you think would happen, beloved? If you were to say all that?"
"Maybe - you'd be disappointed?" I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. "Maybe you'd think - I was - boring?"
I chuckle at that.
"Boring. No - of all the adjectives I could apply to you, boring is not a likely one. You delight me, beloved..."
I look serious. "If you were to say all that to me... I would thank you for telling me. I can't read your mind - we agreed I wouldn't - so I depend on you telling me how you feel about things to realize. Usually you have no problems saying how you feel... so why is it hard with this?" I hold my head at an angle, like I can see your motivations better that way; try to analyse what you just said. "Is it because it has to do with sex? You sometimes find it hard to talk about your feelings about sex... or because it was hard for you to - realize you are gay? And now you don't want to be with girls because... it reminds you of trying to be with girls to prove you are not gay?"
I feel my body nearly sagging with relief as you talk. What did I think was going to happen? You'd accuse me of being too dull and unadventurous for you to bother with?? After all the things we’ve done – including me being whipped naked on stage for your pleasure - and mine too?
"Yeah maybe - I guess so! It's like the very thought takes me back to a very bad time... I didn't even realize I felt that way until-" I swallow hard as the memory surfaces. Lips on mine - wrong. All wrong. "If Soo had been Drew, I don't think I would have reacted that way..."
Is that true? I think so... I imagine a man kissing me as you watch. It feels different - better. Intriguing. How would that even go?? What would it be like?
“Who is Drew?” I ask puzzled - did we meet someone called Drew? Was it the boy with the black curls? He was cute -
“No, not - there is no Drew,” you explain. “It’s just - a manner of speaking. Like - if it had been a boy who kissed me - I might have felt differently.
I’m - sorry…”
You look dejected - no, Daniel -
“Beloved - why are you sorry?”
“Because you - you looked like you - enjoyed it - wanted me to - wanted to see me -“
“Wanted to see you feel uncomfortable kissing a girl?”
I pull you close, kiss your forehead. “You said that I should say if I was uncomfortable with anything, remember - you get very upset when you think I am doing something I might not completely love - why would I feel any different about your comfort?”
Why would you feel any different about my comfort.
…
I sigh with a heaviness that feels ancient - even though you’re the one who’s hundreds of years old…
Why would he feel any different, Daniel?
…
“Because - because! You’re important! And I’m just-“
You frown. “You’re just - what?”
“Just- whatever,” I say weakly. “I’m - nothing special.”
Nothing special.
Nothing. This is the terrible truth I know deep down - and I can’t let you see that, Armand…
“I mean - you’re a beautiful and powerful vampire…” I say quickly. “and I’m just an idiot human who’s been stumbling blindly through life for 21 years. I wish I was - more…”
What - what?!
I shake my head. I don’t even know where to start.
A guy opens the balcony door, changes his mind, and closes it quickly.
“More - what? You are - you are so much more than me - you can’t imagine -
Did I ever not tell you you are fascinating? I love watching you, following you, talking with you, doing all these things with you - do you think I could do those without you?”
You shrug. “Sure - you could go to the theatre or the opera by yourself, people would flock to you…”
“But I don’t want them to - it’s not fun for me to be with ‘people’, Daniel. Only when you are there - you make the places we go come alive. Without you it’s just a - a cinema film, something I can watch, hear, but never partake in. And I wouldn’t enjoy it - it’s -
You’re saying I’m a beautiful and powerful vampire like it’s - something to be proud of? Tell me beloved, is the nuclear bomb proud of being the most powerful weapon in the world? I am an abomination, not something admirable! You - you are alive, you learn, you change, you observe and adapt, you are *fascinating* - have I not been telling you this for so long now?? Do you think I would pretend; lie to you? Why would I do that? Do you think I would rather be with a vampire? You have given and are giving me so much more than any vampire ever could dream of - and it’s not just because you are human; it’s because you are you! All humans are unique, and you are the one person I’ve found who always delights me… why would I not find you *important*?”
A thought strikes me.
No -
But -
I can’t read your mind - I don’t know how you feel without asking you - so what if there is something you’ve been reluctant to say?
“Daniel - is it - do you think this because of - when I say you are my slave, my toy - does that make you feel you’re not important?!”
But you love it - and I love it - but do you - even so –
My heart is racing as you speak - and then it goes haywire when you draw a parallel between yourself and a nuclear bomb -
!!!
An abomination?? Armand, no!!
I want to protest, tell you that’s ridiculous and an abhorrent way to talk about yourself -
but then you ask me - if my feelings are your fault - because of our kinky sex games??
“What?? Of course not-“ I say, stunned. I grab your lapels, pull you closer. “How could you think that? I love what we do!”
“Are you sure?” you say, examining my face very closely. “Because I don’t have to-“
“But I want you to!” I protest. “I sure as hell don’t want to stop!”
You’re still scanning my face as if looking for a sign of - what? Lying? Not being honest with myself?
“Armand - I had fantasies about this before I ever met you, alright? I just didn’t know - how it all worked. I think I was drawn to seedy, potentially dangerous sexual exchanges because - I didn’t know how to have-“
I gesture between us -
“Everything we do together… including all the deviant games…”
You still look dubious. I press one hand to your heart and one hand to mine.
“And also – this-“ I say staring at you intently. “I didn’t know I could have the hottest sex of my life, better than any fantasy, with someone I love - who loves me back! Someone who’s treated me better than everyone else, my entire life! You’re the kindest, sweetest- most loving man-“ Tears are flowing down my cheeks again. “And how could you call yourself a nuclear bomb, Armand?? Is a nuclear bomb capable of love?!”
The balcony door has swung open again and we both turn to look - oh god - it’s Soo and her friend - Mary? - carrying the bottle of whiskey.
“There you two are! Silly boys, ignoring us to talk about… the nuclear arms race?” she says playfully - but she and Mary are both looking a little confused. And a little drunk.
The door opens again. I turn around to make the new people go away, but they’re ‘our’ girls, so I smile and they join us on the balcony, lean against the railing.
I guess we should kind of explain to them?
Soo looks at you, slightly unsteady and unsure. Maria slides her arm around me gently, leans against me slightly. She looks like she might kiss me, so I clear my throat and she pulls back, looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Ladies, so good to see you,” I say. “Thank you both so much for the invitation to this lovely party… and I am so very sorry to say this, but I am afraid we may have given you the wrong impression.
Daniel and I…” I gesture to you, then myself. “…we are gay.”
Soo looks at me, then at you.
“That’s totally cool, man…” she says, nodding. “*To*-tally cool. But what is gay and straight, really.., really, we are all humans, we all love humans… Don’t we?” She looks at Maria, who nods slowly, pensively.
For a second I am afraid it’s the human bit she’s dubious about - has she felt - but no, she’s considering if loving humans means you must love *all* humans or can have certain preferences.
She has realized that she probably won’t get to make love with me - not that she’s surprised; she felt I was a bit aloof since the beginning.
Soo is looking at us. “You don’t like girls at all?” she asks, disappointed, but not belligerent.
“I’m afraid not…” I admit. “If we did, we would be so lucky with such beautiful company. You are the two prettiest girls at this party, no doubt about it.”
A fatuous flattery, but it hits home - she smiles at me, then at you.
“You’re damn right! And you are the two hottest guys… it’s always the best ones, isn’t it?” she asks Maria, who nods slowly.
“Alright - you can make it up to us if you kiss again. Slow and deep. Go ahead,” she says, takes a step back, stumbles, but regains her balance, leans against the wall, pulls Maria next to her. She crosses her arms and looks at us challengingly.
What? Whatever I expected her reaction to be, it wasn’t that! My first impulse is to tell her ‘we’re not circus animals, sweetheart - we won’t be putting on a show for you’. I look at you to see if you’re going to respond or if I should go ahead -
And you look amused.
Really, Armand? After a drunk human just told us to kiss for her voyeuristic enjoyment?
You shrug with insouciance as if to say, who could blame the poor lamb? A surprised laugh escapes me. I’m utterly amazed at this silent communication that’s happening through our eyes and facial expressions- at what point did we become so in sync?
You don’t even have to read my mind do you Armand? When I smile at you, I think you know I’ve forgotten all about Mary and Soo.
The distance quickly closes between us and I think it was me that floated towards you, because there’s always been an invisible tether binding me to you from the beginning and it’s only gotten stronger -
I don’t know why and I don’t care -
I only care that you’re kissing me - don’t stop, Armand -
Because we didn’t get to finish our conversation and it rattled me and it shook me and I need to feel you now, feel your love - feel your desire -
Your fingers tighten in my hair as your tongue moves against mine -
By the time I come up for air, I feel warm and flushed -
“Fuck, baby-“ I whisper. “I want you-“
Oh shit - we’re not alone are we?
Regretfully I pull back and see the two girls staring back at us, eyes huge.
The girls’ heartbeats have sped up and their breath is coming shallower - our display excites both of them. When we have pulled apart and you whisper you want me Soo’s heart skips a beat and she pictures us tearing off our clothes and going at it right here on this balcony - I’m afraid not, sweetheart. This is all the show you’re going to get.
Oh alright then. The director in me can’t help but want to delight the audience.
“And I want you, Daniel…” I growl, pulling you closer by your lapels, kissing your mouth, trailing down your jaw and biting your neck, fangs not out, but sucking the skin in between my teeth and making you groan and close your eyes as your head falls back.
I stop and you look at me, dazed.
“Home. Now,” I growl softly, turn to the door. The girls move to clear the way for us. But my conscience plays up - we accompanied them here and I don’t think we should leave them alone at this party - the people seem what you call relaxed, but the neighbourhood is a bit rough and I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of them walking around here looking for a taxi -
“Ladies,” I gesture at them to get in before us. “Please allow us to take you home, it’s the least we could do,” but Soo shakes her head.
“The party’s barely gotten started! Perry’s said we can crash here - don’t worry about us; like you said, we’re the hottest girls here - we’re going to have to do a search for the *second hottest* guys at the party, won’t we?”
She grabs her hat off your head, raises it over her own, nods at us. “Go home and have a *really* good night, guys…” she says with an exaggerated wink.
Home. Now.
A charge goes through me and my mind goes completely blank - once again, I’m barely aware of the presence of Mary and Soo until you suggest taking them home?? What?
Oh - their home. Thank god. As it turns out they want to stay at the party anyway - thank all the gods.
I’m surprised when Soo pulls the hat off my head - I’d forgotten it was there. Then I’m a bit miffed - you seemed to really like me in it.
But I’m hardly going to take it back am I! What’s come over me? I think the recent events got under my skin and I’m still not clear why - yeah I don’t like remembering my past but why is it ruffling my feathers this much?
Anyway - not important. Now we can enjoy the evening with some much-needed privacy. And nakedness.
“Oh we will! We’re just going to continue discussing politics,” I say with an even more exaggerated wink.
The girls burst into laughter. “Oh ‘discussing politics’ - is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Soo giggles and drags Mary back inside.
I turn back to you. “Are we ‘the kids’?” I ask, amused. And then I feign a pout. “Armand, baby - she took my hat!”
“You are a kid - and you called me ‘baby’, so I must be as well,” I smile as we walk through the crowd. When we’re outside, I hold up Soo’s hat, put it on your head. You look surprised.
“You’re right, it does look better on you,” I say, get into the lift.
By the time we get to the apartment we are both very aroused - the taxi ride was spent whispering innuendos and not-so-innuendos, exchanging stealthy hand touches and steamy looks.
Chic clothes go flying, mouths clash, hands grasp and voices groan as we finally land on the bed alone, free to do what we want - and what I want to do is you; but I’m a bit uncertain of how demanding and rough I can be - I know you love it, but you saying you’re not important earlier shook me a lot.
I wish I could just rummage around in your mind… but that would be a betrayal of my promises to you and even worse, so I pull you close, bite your neck, your jaw, your earlobe, whisper “What would you like doing, beloved?”
What was that furrowing of your brow? Are you - worried about me?
Oh no- that’s not what I want! I know we should finish our conversation, but it definitely doesn’t need to happen now. Not when we’re naked and so hot for it - and after tonight, I need to feel us connect deeply. And I’ve noticed the darker and rougher it gets, the more intimate it feels after -
“You know what I like, baby,” I murmur in your ear. “You can take a peek into my dirty mind if you want - but let’s say you were to restrain me - tease me - drink from me-“
My voice drops lower. “Drink from my cock-“
I can’t help but notice the flash in your eyes, the intake of breath even though you don’t need to breathe -
“and then fuck me, Armand - so hard - make me beg to come - and don’t let me - not until you want me to-“
We’re staring at each other so intently, the tension mounting between us.
“Mmm-“ I breathe. “Would you enjoy that? Because I fucking would… I’d come so hard for you, baby-“ I lean forward and kiss you quick and teasingly -
“So - hard-“ I whisper and then kiss you deeply.
You can’t think you’re unimportant if I do exactly what you desire surely - it must be something else - must be -
And *fuck* I want you…
You lie next to me, your wounds closed, your tears and seed washed away in a gentle shower, looking so at peace as you sleep, and so unbearably young. My heart scratches at my rib cage, wanting to escape and take its rightful place next to yours.
Daniel, my Daniel… my sweet young angel boy, my insatiable pervert, my my my…
I can’t keep this. I know I can’t. It’s a knowledge that is most prominently present in the hours when you sleep and I look at you, at your beautiful fire and life and humanity soiled by my hands, my cock, my teeth. Your pure passionate heart squandered on a dead body.
I love you so much and because of that I must leave you… *must* leave and every week I wait makes your life, your real life shorter and harder. It were best had you never met me… and second best is for me to disappear as soon as possible. But I can’t… I can’t and I’m ruining your life night by night by night…
As the light grows the worry flattens, plains out, to a background nag; and by the time it’s getting closer to your waking time I get impatient, keen for our next adventure, wanting to discover more new things, go to shops or shows or just finding interesting people, and I get the coffee going and make you breakfast and wake you if you take too long.
When my eyelids crack open, you’re gazing at me. My eyes close again and I smile. “My favourite way to wake up…” I say drowsily.
“Did you sleep well, my love?” Your voice is warm but sounds - off. I open one eye - you look so troubled! Why??
Memories of last night come streaming back slowly. The party, the girls, the conversation… right.
“Armand…” I say softly. “Are you worried about what we talked about last night?”
You just look sad. Oh baby… I can’t handle you being sad!
I pull you closer. “Hey - none of that,” I say firmly. “I’m here, you’re here - that’s all that matters. I love you so much.” I kiss you softly. “Now - tell me what’s wrong.”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” I say, but you frown and say “Armand…” in that fondly exasperated tone you have when you know I’m not being fully truthful and damn it, I’m the centuries-old vampire here; how are you reading my mind??
I sigh.
“Nothing is wrong, beloved. I just - I don’t know why you feel that you are not important to me. That I’m some bigwig vampire and you are just a - what did you say? - an idiot human.
I am just - thinking how I gave you the impression that I am more important than you? That I think you are an idiot? I think a lot of your intelligence…”
“I’m sorry, I - shouldn’t have said that…” I say with a frown. “I don’t normally feel that way…”
“Then why did you?” Your gaze is steady and loving and- I wish I didn’t have to say this - but I can’t hold anything back from you when you ask.
“I was in a state… from all the memories of life before you. And I guess I still feel affected from that first night we were together,” I mumble. You look confused.
“I fell for you so hard - and you didn’t take me seriously because I was human… is it fucked up that upset me more than threatening to kill me??” I laugh weakly.
I think seriously about that.
“Yes… I do think you put your priorities wrong. I torture you for six days, come this close to draining you, but let you go; then I kidnap you, drain you to within an inch of your life, and you barely survive again, and all you can think of is how hot I am - I don’t understand how you ever survived to twenty, to be honest.
But - I don’t think I didn’t take you seriously because you are human. I was angry with you. I was hardly going to have a sophisticated discussion with an intellectual equal when I was furious and wanted to hurt you, was I?”
“I suppose not,” I relent. “And yes clearly my priorities were a mess. But even if you were furious - didn’t you think I was hot?” I say with an innocent smile.
“ I- don’t see what that has to do with-“ I bristle and you start giggling.
“Yes alright - of course I thought you were hot; I was angry, not blind. And that made it even worse initially - Louis saying you were so *fascinating* and you looking so good - I was - jealous… furious with both him and you.
But yes, when I saw you again - I so wanted to kill you, but I - couldn’t. That wasn’t because you were hot - not *just* because you are hot. I felt - more. Admiration for you. An odd fondness that was the start of love.
I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, vampire or human, in nearly five hundred years, Daniel… how can you think I would love you less because you didn’t want to kiss some girl?”
My mouth drops open. You love me more than you’ve loved anyone? How-?
“I love you more than anyone too, Armand!” I blurt. “More than I’ll love anyone ever!”
“So why would you think that not kissing a girl would be an issue-?” you ask, your brows knitted together.
“Because-“
Don’t say it you idiot - it’s too soon -
Keeping it in is killing me!
“Because - from what you’ve told me, vampires are so open and free about sex - I didn’t want you to think I was too boring and conventional to-“ I swallow hard.
“To what, beloved?” You look positively bewildered.
Why are you not understanding where I’m heading with this??
“When are you going to turn me, baby?” I ask softly.
*What?!?*
“*Daniel!*“ I am so shocked I shout quite loudly; you pull back slightly, startled.
“I - didn’t you hear what I said?! I love you! I love you more than anyone - I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy! How would I do it to someone I love?!? I have *never* ever done that to anyone, and I never will. I made a vow before God.”
I shake my head, bewildered.
“Daniel - my sweet, beloved Daniel - I will never take your life!”
I stare back at you, horrified. “But - I thought-“
I knew you must have felt uncomfortable with the idea if you hadn’t offered it as an option. But isn’t it different now that we’re so in love, Armand??
“A vow before God??” I repeat, completely baffled. What does that even mean?!
“Armand, you’re happy aren’t you - even as a vampire? I make you happy?” I ask in a voice that sounds so small. “So - can’t I be happy too??”
You - really thought I would turn you into a vampire?!
Why? When did I *ever* give that impression??
Oh - oh my Daniel...
"Beloved - didn't you understand, from that full night with Louis? Everything he told you?
No - you didn't understand, even then... you wanted it. All you saw was the ability to live long - and you were happy with life, you loved it, so you wanted it to last. And that's the thing, beloved... when you become a vampire, your life is over. It doesn't last. Your body walks the earth, yes - and your brain works - but your *life* is gone. When I look at you - the shine in your eyes, the eagerness for everything, the curiosity, the warmth, the love - I would never take that *away* from you!
Any one of us, any vampire you ask, no matter how ancient or young - any one of us would trade it in a heartbeat for one human lifetime. Trust me; believe it from one who has been both human and vampire - living a human life, with all its joys and pains, is infinitely preferable to 'life' as a vampire."
I’m trying to listen, Armand - I am. I need to understand your reasons so I can take them apart! Your reasoning is flawed and I’ll have to help you see that - if we’re going to have a chance of lasting happiness then I have to be the one to ensure it! But after your revelation I’m feeling too panicky and emotional to attempt it… I’m liable to start sobbing and I don’t think that will help my case.
Fuck!
“All those things you love about me, Armand - that’s you too!” I cry out. “I’ve never known anyone as warm and loving as you! I’m the one who sees your eyes lighting up, I’m the one who sees how curious you are, how fascinating the modern world is to you! Maybe you’re so used to seeing vampirism negatively based on your past experiences and missing being human - maybe your concept of vampirism needs to evolve…?”
…
I didn’t mean to start countering your claim. But I couldn’t keep it inside for one – moment - longer.
*My* -
concept of vampirism?!?
“I see.”
The words come out calmly, but my insides are erupting lava.
“You have spent some time with a vampire and now you are the world’s expert. Instead of the vampire who only bases his negative concept on his past experiences and doesn’t recognize the blissful circumstances he is in. Of course. I am blind to my life; I need a young clever reporter to open my eyes.”
You look shocked, but still defiant -
“You know what, Daniel, I don’t feel like fighting with you about it. You know everything already.
So then maybe think about this - if vampirism is so great, why would I rather die than share it with the man I love?”
I put on my shoes, am through the door before you have formed an answer. Or maybe you have. I am not in the mood to hear it.
Chapter 2: A Crimson River
Chapter Text
My heart is racing as you speak - oh god - what have I done, I’ve ruined everything, I shouldn’t have said anything!
But you had to hear it! I can’t just be silent about this when –
I’m going to get older and - you won’t, Armand!!
And then - you’re gone.
I stare at the space where you used to be -
Well. It’s been a while since you’ve done your vanishing trick, I think, feeling icy numbness spread through my mind and body.
But it was bound to happen, right?
I rub my eyes. Ok. I could cry and fall apart and drink myself into a stupor -
But this time I’m not afraid you’ve gone forever - or that you’re hunting me -
I know you’ll come back to me -
You promised and I believe you, Armand.
I just don’t know how long it will take for you to cool off. Hours? Days?
…
Weeks??
My heart slams painfully in my chest. We’ll be fine. Right??
Yes. You’ll forgive me and we’ll be together again and I’ll just have to convince you later… and then we’ll be together for always and we’ll be happy and you’ll see I was right, Armand!
I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back tears.. Then I lie back down and pull the duvet over my head.
`
The space is dark and deep and damp and that fits my mood.
I should have seen this coming. After Louis’ interview you thought vampirism was the way to go - you believed it was living forever and like all the living you love it and want it to last -
you don’t see this existence for what it is -
I sit up, look ahead in the darkness.
How can I explain it to you? That people are meant to be human, and that to be not human is not to be a person? Imprisoned in the night for centuries, taking life over and over and over again; forced to become a monster of nightmares - losing your humanity - your soul -
How can you think I could do that to you?!?
Indignation rises again and again, but I keep reminding myself that you don’t *understand*, that you think it’s not that bad, and any mild discomfort is compensated by living forever. And with the conviction of the very young and very in love, you know that you will always love me, and I will always love you, so what could be better than eternity in bliss?
Oh Daniel… my beloved Daniel, why did I do all this; why didn’t I just let you go, blissfully unaware of my existence?
You would be poorer, yes, but you are so intelligent; you would have found your in and made it as a journalist… and you’d live your life; *your* life, not running around after some vampire who doesn’t understand life no matter how he tries to grasp it…
I last until the end of the day before I have a few drinks. I’m so used to being with you now, I don’t know what to do with myself. You make the darkness and hopelessness go away, Armand…
You don’t show up the next day either. Or the next. I don’t want to slip into a downward spiral of drinking and depression and despair - I don’t want you to think I’m that weak and somehow make it out to be your negative influence - oh you evil vampire corrupting everything you touch! I was already broken when you met me, sweetheart…
So I return to my interview recordings - transcribing them and codifying the contents.
And a couple of days later - when you still haven’t shown up, I start working on the book.
When I come up for air a couple of days later, you’re still not here.
I grab a bottle of whiskey, stand on the balcony under the full moon, and start calling you in my mind. With every shot of whiskey, my calls increase in frequency and urgency.
Armand! Why haven’t you returned? What if this were an emergency? Would you just let me die??
I look down at the vial of your blood lying against my chest. Tempting. Very tempting…
*Daniel is in danger*.
I am on my feet before I realize. Some grit falls to the floor. How long was I here for? I don't recall - but Daniel - Daniel needs me -
I shoot across town, only half aware of the full moon and the need to hide -
the urgency in your voice -
*Daniel* -
New York so big -
"Daniel!"
You back away when I land, startled - I am still attuned to you and see myself through your eyes - a monster - skin and clothes grey with cement dust, my coat billowing out behind me, cobwebs in my hair, my eyes bright and crazed like a cat's, my fangs out ready to kill -
who -
there is no one here -
Immense relief from you that I'm back - where is the danger Daniel -
I get it from your mind now; so much at ease now I'm here - the calling - not danger but need -
But my fangs and the urge to kill - the blood; I need the blood -
throbbing in your throat, so loudly, your heart beating like a drop hammer -
danger from me, no -
I fly away from the balcony.
I'm standing on the balcony, completely still - did that just happen-??
I realize I'm still clutching the bottle of whiskey and I bring it up to my lips.
Then I stumble over to the table and drop heavily into a chair -
The bottle lands on the table with a clank and I dig through my pockets for a cigarette pack and lighter. With trembling hands, I move the cigarette to my lips. As I light it, there's a sizzling sound and then smoke blessedly fills my lungs.
My head drops back and I sink down in the chair. What. The Fuck.
It was you alright - but not looking anything like the Armand that I know! Where were you all this time - in a dusty basement somewhere? An abandoned building? Why did you feel the need to stay away for so long?? Why did you come back only to turn around and leave?!
And most importantly - what happened to make you so... feral?
Feeling chilled, I think back to your appearance, the dirt all over your hair and clothes, the way your body moved - the haunted look on your face - eyes glowing like a cat in the dark - fangs out - as if you were -
as if -
Suddenly there's a burning sensation between my fingers, and my hand jerks and drops the cigarette - fuck!
Gingerly I pick it up and stare at the ashes strewn on the floor of the balcony - making me think of the grey streaks in your hair from the dust -
I take a drag from the cigarette, then another shot of whiskey.
You looked as if you were a wild animal! about to attack me!
Fuck, Armand -
Where did you go? To eat someone so you wouldn't eat me?
When will you come back?? And when you do - what will you be like??
Shaken I pick up the bottle again. And again. And again.
Blood -
how long has it been since I fed? I don't know; I just know I need to feed *now*, and I want to feed on you but I don't want to lose you and if I drink from you I may kill you so drink someone *else* Armand, blood is blood Armand, yes Daniel's is exquisite but -
stop thinking of Daniel -
find the evildoer, the desperate, the suicide -
The park, always replete with souls of whatever stripe - lovers walking, no; a man looking for another man without a face but with a mouth, no; a boy needing brown sugar, no -
so many bodies full of blood, throbbing and wafting at me, making my fangs ache -
there - filtering the cacophony of thoughts for the dark tone, the defiance suppressing shame of the one who will do without guilt what he knows should bring about remorse, the unsavoury highlight -
he is on his way home and his dick is twitching at the thought of his daughter, already in bed, her face so sweet and innocent in her sleep -
I nudge him towards a grove of trees, dark, out of sight.
I use my pocketknife to slit his throat to hide the puncture marks, stuff his body into a bin behind a restaurant.
Look up at the sky, the full moon.
How long have I been away?
I need to check in on you - I was angry, yes, but you were so desperate...
When I get back to the apartment you are very drunk. You stumble towards me and grab me into your arms. After a beat, I return the hug.
When you appear, I don't know if you're even real. I have to check - and if you're real, I have to stop you from leaving -
make you understand -
Armand - you're real!
But you're standing still, and your body feels like marble -!
Armand, why??
Then your arms go around me - so strong, holding me at last! I sag with relief against you - then everything in the room and in my brain goes weird and I'm floating - no, you're carrying me -
"You were so angry," I say sadly, pressing my face against your shoulder and trying to touch your face. "But I love you, Armand!" I can't seem to reach your cheek, but I manage to touch your hair with a flailing hand - although it felt like hitting your curls instead of stroking them. I'm glad I didn't accidentally slap you...
"I love you too Daniel," you sigh as you lay me down gently on the bed.
"But I love you so much, don't be angry-" I murmur. "Armand - stay with me. Please-"
How could I not, beloved? When you're so hurt and sad and bedraggled?
You look emaciated - when did you last eat?
Your hair is greasy and your shirt has ash stains on it, and a little burn hole.
"I am not angry with you, beloved..." I murmur, take you into the bathroom, help you have a shower, then sit you down on the toilet lid and carefully shave your week-old stubble.
"Come... have a sleep. I promise I will stay with you."
You let yourself be led to the bed and hold me tight as you fall asleep.
When you are snoring, I tidy up the apartment. Whisky bottles and cigarette packets, ashes on furniture, a burn in the wood of the table next to your writing machine. There are some pages beside it - I read them. They're good. You are very talented at bringing people to life on the page, make the reader feel they're there, that they know them, that they want to hear what they have to say. I can see you in the pages as well... your curiosity, interest, self-effacement - you don't impose your conceptions or opinions on your subject, you just paint the conversational landscape in which they can allow their story to grow into whatever it is - a mighty tree, a noxious weed, a rose, a hemlock; you nourish them with equal care and they are all beautiful in the light of your gaze.
I am overcome with a feeling of love so intense it makes my chest feel too tight, and I move to the bed, lie next to your naked body, holding it in my arms.
How could you ever think I could end this?
How could I?
I wake up in a panic and reach out to touch you - or cool sheets as I fear. But it turns out you're lying next to me and I don't have far to reach. I blink at you, bleary-eyed. I still feel drunk but a little less so -
"Daniel?" You rise up on one shoulder. "Do you need anything?"
"Armand," I mumble. "Am I still Beloved?"
"Yes my beloved - you very much are," you whisper, and press a kiss to my forehead.
"If I'm beloved - why were you so mad?" I say urgently. "Just because I wanted you to-?"
"Shhh," you say, sounding so reassuring as you pull me close. "It's possible to feel angry and still love someone very much. When your love is enduring, you can weather difficult times - and not just throw it away because of upset feelings… which are inevitable when it comes to love… aren’t they?” You sound wistful but there’s no mistaking the deep affection in your voice.
I had something important to say. But I forget why it was so important. I've been in hell for days - it feels so good to have you near, kissing my face softly – mmm -
"Oh... I like that..." I say, snuggling against you. "Did I ever tell you how much I love your voice, baby? You could make me forget anything with that voice. It's so sweet and - meli- meli-flu-uss-" I try, but my head feels full of cobwebs. "Like honey!"
"My voice is like honey?" you murmur. "And does that make you the bee?"
"Maybe..." I giggle softly. "Or you're the bee and I'm – wait - I'm the honey-?"
"Whatever you say, honey," you say, which just makes me laugh more loudly.
"Actually... if you think about it, we're both the bees," I hear myself muttering. "The honey is Love, Armand..." Everything seems to be drifting farther away but I still feel your arms around me and I sigh contentedly before slipping back into the darkness.
Bees buzzing around the honey of love...
Your words as ever are enchanting, beloved, but bees do not live very long, no matter how much honey they have. And no amount of honey can bring a dead bee back to life.
When you wake up I have made coffee and breakfast; all the things to make you recover from one of your strong hangovers. I've made a smoothie with lots of banana and sugar to not aggravate your stomach acid.
You groan as you drag yourself into the kitchen. "Armand..."
I turn down the fire, turn around. "I'm here, my love..,"
You walk towards me, grab me tightly, digging your face into my shoulder. "I thought that I'd dreamed you... I dreamed you last week and when I woke up you weren't there... but I smelled the bacon... please don't leave again," you mumble.
I set you on one of the dining chairs. "I am not leaving you, Daniel." I serve you a plate laden with toast, fried eggs and bacon, and a plate of fresh blueberry pancakes with syrup.
"I may leave occasionally and take some time to come back. It's nothing against you, it's just - sometimes I lose track of time. I will also sometimes need to leave to take care of some business - I need to make sure I have enough money to keep you in luxury. Sometimes things may happen in the vampire community that need my attention.
But I'll always come back - I won't abandon you and leave you sad and lonely. I promised."
I listen carefully to your words while watching your face closely - I've honed my skills in picking up on subterfuge during interviews... But that's with humans. Would vampires not excel in deception?
Maybe but - I'm also closer to you than to anyone. I know when you're holding something back... I hold thoughts and feelings back too; it doesn't make me a liar. And I do think there's something you're not expressing to me - I know you Armand - but I do believe what you're saying is the truth.
Besides, this food smells amazing, and I'm so fucking relieved you're here - I'm too weak and hungry and anxious for your presence to fight this -
Fuck pride. I want you more than anything.
I lean in and kiss you longingly - and the one thing I know is that in your kiss is a beautiful truth. You love me more than anyone too. And you won't abandon me. It's not everything I need, but - it's essential for this moment.
"I don't need luxury, you ridiculous man - I just need you," I say softly. "But alright - you need time to deal with vampire business sometimes, huh? Fine - I can live with that." I kiss you again. "But a little warning before you vanish might be nice," I say drily.
Then I grab a fork and taste a bite of pancake.
And break into a big smile.
"This is so good! Baby, you haven't eaten food in centuries - how on earth did you learn to make blueberry pancakes?"
I take another bite happily and wash it down with coffee.
"Even your coffee is better than mine!" I accuse with a playful scowl - before grabbing a piece of bacon with my fingers and beginning to eat it with obvious pleasure.
"I have a feel for the culinary arts," I smile. "And alright, I used a book for this," I wave at the shelf of cookbooks. I like experimenting, and you have a strong stomach, but I know that it's less resilient when you're recovering from a drinking binge, so I did exactly what Ms Berry said to do. "I saw someone eating pancakes for breakfast on the TV after they'd been drinking so I was hoping it might help."
"It's perfect," you mumble with your mouth full of pancakes and bacon. "Do we have any coke left?"
"I don't know - you are usually the one who supplies it, I don't know how much you took while I was away-"
"No - I mean coca cola... though coke is a good idea if you want me to go out later..."
I get the bottle from the fridge, brighten up. "Yes! I had the thought we could use your new Super 8 camera and film you interviewing someone! Then you can not only listen to it later, but also see their face, look at their eyes, how they shift, when they look away - you always say there's so much in non-spoken communication that tells you a lot; wouldn't it be great if you could see it back when you're writing about your interview? You will look so professional, with your microphone and your very own cameraman!"
I blink at you in surprise. “You’d be my cameraman?” It’s not that shocking, I suppose? You’ve been so supportive of my work - buying my equipment and not only letting me talk your ear off about my project but actively engaging with me about it - asking questions, making suggestions, reading my initial draft, giving me painstakingly written notes -
You have such a sharp mind, I’m fortunate to have your encouragement -
I put my fork down then climb onto your lap and kiss you with abandon. I feel your arms tighten around me. Fuck it’s good to feel your body against mine again!
When I come up for air, I’m panting.
“What was that for, beloved?” you say breathily, eyelids half closed.
“You are so sweet, Armand-“ I whisper. “You’d do that for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” you say looking puzzled. Then you gently push me up from your lap and nod at my breakfast. “No more kissing until you’ve finished,” you chide. But I see your lips curling up slightly.
So bossy! I give you a wry smile and shake my head - but I pick up my fork and start eating again.
“Given your theatre experience, I’d be lucky to have you! Maybe one day I’ll write a play and you can direct it,” I say, caressing your hand. “You really want to operate the camera though, baby? You wouldn’t be bored?“
"Oh I'd love for you to write a play! I am not sure if I ever want to work with *actors* again though..." I heave a long-suffering sigh. "You can do that. I'll just sit in the back of the theatre and give pointers. But I think you would be a great playwright - you have the knack for telling personal stories, and having the chance to see your characters be brought to life, and having a say in who will do it and how they do it - Sam said it was the best thing in the world if it worked and the worst thing if it didn't. But you will have a larger pool of actors to choose from.
I think you vastly overestimate the capacity for boredom vampires have. We are immortal. I don't sleep. I have spent days and nights just watching you breathe, stirring maybe two times in an hour. Mumbling some incomprehensible words, if I'm very lucky. How would I get bored watching you interview someone and operating the camera?
I've read the manual three times and I know all the controls. You're in safe hands."
I'm getting excited - I have been using the camera here, filming you, and you have filmed me, and it's been so fascinating watching it back, seeing myself move, speak - it must be such a great tool for actors! - but I haven't used it on other people. Time for its baptism.
I lay out professional-looking clothes for you, such as a journalist of a respectable publication might wear - khaki chinos, a cotton white shirt, a casual dark blue blazer. I've purchased a flat cap for you that looks amazing - less good than the bowler hat, but that is a bit too extravagant and we want interviewees to see you as an ordinary man, sympathetic, similar to them, inoffensive.
I chuckle as I put on the clothes you've picked for me. Apparently I can't be trusted to choose for myself - you're so cute, Armand...
And I can't believe how charged up you are about operating the camera for one of my interviews! But then - there are no modern appliances or equipment that don't fascinate you. I get that it must seem amazing for someone who's centuries old, but - I had to literally hide the blender from you at the beginning to keep you from blending everything within a 5-mile radius. Only to find more newer models in the kitchen the next day. And god, the things you put in the microwave when it arrived! It's a miracle you didn't set the building on fire. At least you've moved on to recording equipment - you've gotten a bit obsessive about filming me, but that's safer than putting silverware in the microwave.
I grin as I finish buttoning up my shirt and look at myself in the mirror. Damn - I do look good. In the beginning it felt like dressing up in a costume for Halloween - but it's always so worth it when I see your face. Besides I have to make an effort now to keep up with my boyfriend, only the most beautiful vampire in the world! My cheeks grow pink and flushed and my smile looks positively goofy. I want to see you - it's been 5 minutes and I want to see you.
I walk out to the living room and your eyes sweep over me with obvious pleasure. God I just can't get enough of that...
"Almost perfect - but something's missing," you say flirtatiously and walk towards me - for a moment I think you're going to kiss me but then I see the cap in your hands.
I wait patiently while you put it on my head, fuss with the placement, and then gently pull some curls in the direction you want. You really can't stop yourself can you, baby -
"Armand - I'm sure it's fine-" I start.
"I'll tell you when it's fine," you say with mock severity as you continue to style my hair. But the corner of your mouth is tugging up slightly.
"If you enjoy working with the camera, maybe you might like to film something else later - like, a journalist relaxing after an interview. You know - starting with taking off the cap and blazer at the end of a hard day - then getting a bit more comfortable? Would that be something fun you'd like to direct, Armand?" I say, the picture of innocence.
"Hmmm..." I ponder. "That would be a challenge, being director and cameraman at the same time, with a subject that requires such specialist handling... but I think I may be up to the challenge. Only if you get a very good actor - one who knows how to follow every instruction of the director closely. One who knows how to make love to the camera... and of course one who is *extremely* good looking. Do you think you have one of those in your troupe?"
You chuckle, blushing slightly, and you look so incredibly adorable I want to eat you, which apparently is also something humans experience, I learnt recently when we saw a nest of kittens and you expressed a desire to eat one of them. It makes no evolutionary sense; kittens are not nutritious to you, but it surprised me pleasantly that this feeling is a human one instead of a vampire one. As it is I just hug you tight, then straighten out your clothes again.
Also, you did not eat the kitten.
We try out the camera on the streets. The lighting is sufficient with the street lamps, but it's raining so people are walking past with their umbrellas, in a rush to get out of the wet. You suggest we go to Greenwich Village; there are always people there with a good story, and you have an umbrella for anyone who doesn't have one and wants to talk with us.
We start interviewing theatre goers about their experiences watching plays. It's fascinating how the camera can zoom in on the smallest details, registering the exact structure and gleam of a gold brooch that you would have immediately forgotten otherwise.
We are barred from entering the Zodiac though. The man explains that there is no filming in the establishment, and please don't hang around on the street either. Some people turn their heads away, block us with their umbrellas, or even turn on their heel when they spot us.
"They're afraid, Daniel... they think we will put their faces on the television and they will lose their jobs or families."
A man who is an activist is willing to talk with you, but only if I put the camera away.
There are downsides to this style of interviewing.
I can understand - we could show anyone what anyone said and there would be no denying it, no questioning the reliability of the witnesses - there they would be, large as life, their face visible and words clear for anyone for perpetuity, or as much of it as matters to them. It is one thing to happen to actors in a studio, but just being filmed on the street as you are doing something you don't want your mother to know - I can see how intimidating it must be.
Even your tape recorder often raises objections - people insist you just listen to what they say and write it down without name or identifying details.
It's a scary time for people with everyone able to document everything at all times...
Well - live and learn. We didn’t get the footage I hoped we would - but if anything this just shows me how important my project is. People shouldn’t be terrified to be filmed going into a gay club. Or even just talking about gay culture!
“It really is too much - what is the big fucking deal about what people do with their own bodies in private?! How long is society going to be so fucking freaked out about this?” I grumble to you as we walk towards home through the misty night. “Fine. I’ll just continue the interviews as I’ve been doing. But I was thinking about what we discussed earlier - maybe I do need to branch out! Fiction can reach people in a different way than non-fiction, especially when it comes to heavy topics. I could try writing a play - even a one-man play to start… and see if I could find a stage for it...”
“A one-man play,” you muse. “Intriguing! And no pesky actors to deal with… I think you may be on to something, Daniel Molloy.”
“I didn’t mean me-“ I laugh, enjoying the damp night air against my skin. “I’ve never performed on stage!“
“I seem to remember a performance on stage where you did very well,” you say, arching an eyebrow.
I blush furiously in the darkness. I still can’t believe I did that - but it was unbelievably hot to see the effect it had on you.
“Ah. That. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I murmur.
Walking home is filled with flirtation, laughing, and talking about ideas for a play. Every experience is so much better with you, even a walk through the city. When we arrive back at the apartment, you decide my idea of you filming me was excellent - starting with removing my clothes and ending up in the shower.
“This isn’t going to end up in a sleazy movie theatre is it,” I say with a smirk as I turn on the water.
“Quiet, dear,” you say, making me laugh. “Actors need to do as they’re told…”
“Oh is that the way it is…” I begin to lather my body with soap, feeling dreamy as I see you smiling from behind the camera.
I agree with your complaints, beloved, but can offer you little in the way of comfort... homosexuals have always been ruthlessly persecuted, subject to violence, disgust, murder. I can't understand why it evokes such aggression in so many people - people who will nod comprehendingly at murder, rape, and mutilation go foaming at the mouth when someone dares enjoy themselves with the same sex... especially men. You'd think we threaten the continuation of life on earth itself. Some people have responded much more vehemently to the fact I am a homosexual than a vampire...
I do admire this gay liberation movement and the activists have really good ideas, but I am not sure the world is ready... though it's changed so much, who knows. If I can help you helping to make this a reality, I certainly will.
I love the idea of you writing a book, writing plays, maybe even performing them, if you gain a bit more confidence. You are a good writer and deserve the spotlight. I can be a patron of the arts, giving you a cultural education, the means to write.
Maybe I could adopt another young person and you can develop your skills together... but just financially. I will not become a Marius. Just - supporting culture. That's a good thing, right? Yes - yes it is.
Anyway - here you are in the shower performing *quite* naturally au naturel, and I am behind the camera giving pointers - though it's hard to mess up acting having a shower, especially when you're having a shower.
"So tell me, shower boy... you seem to be thinking about something that pleases you," I nod at your crotch. "Can you share with the camera what's on your mind? Don't respond to me; this is not an interview; people must forget there's a camera present. There's just a handsome young man having a shower, and thinking about something pleasant... telling it to himself, unselfconsciously, because there is no one else there..."
Shower boy? You’re so adorable, Armand… It’s so hard not to turn and smile at you or respond. Alright, I’m a ‘handsome young man’ having a shower - god just feeling your eyes on me makes me feel - so -
Yep, there I go - getting harder.
My hands move along my skin, sweeping down from my chest to my abdomen - then down to my pelvis -
“Mmm - baby-” I hear myself breathe, as if I’m speaking just for myself and not the camera. “Why do you have to be so - far - away-?”
I mean it- it feels like you’re an ocean away when I want you to be here touching me - but this is good for the scene, right? All I have to do is remember -
Remember what it was like all the times you were gone, and I was longing for you, not knowing when you’d return - having to pleasure myself -
My eyes are closed - my hand is moving over my cock so slowly as if just realizing I’m aroused - I want to turn and look at you, but that’s making me long for you too -
My hand tightens on my cock - my head falls back and I let out a breathy moan - Jesus where did that come from - this acting thing when you’re behind the camera is - just - fascinating –
I want to tell you off for talking to me, but then you could be talking to a fantasy lover - alright, I'll let you get away with this... how could I not, when your skin is so glistening and sleek with the water and soap, your elegant hands roaming where anyone who watches this would want to roam, taking yourself in hand, your eyes closed as you are overcome with your fantasy, your own sensuality - god Daniel you are gorgeous -
I must remember to buy a tripod tomorrow, so the camera can stand on its own - then I can join you and we can -
I swallow.
First this.
A sculptor's masterpiece come to animation, flushed pink with blood and life, exploring his body for the first time, relishing the sensation of the skin under his fingers, surprised then delighted by the feeling when he touches his cock... you're so magnificently sensual, Daniel...
And I realize that yes, I would really like to see you make love to someone else - watching you lose yourself with an eye that is not distracted, perhaps even with the camera -
but again, not now. Focus, Armand - I have the camera zoom on to your hand that's slowly casually moving, your cock that's getting harder and larger, then move away again, getting the fuller picture again, then move to the mirror, where you are just a pink vague outline, tantalizingly suggestive, before moving back and getting the full picture again.
"Tell the watcher what you're thinking of, Daniel."
Oh - you were quiet for so long I thought you just wanted me to do whatever came naturally.
I smile faintly at that. Alright - what am I thinking of? What do you think, Armand?
“Fuck, baby-“ I mutter, hoping you can hear me clearly over the water. “I just want - to feel your hands on me again-“ I stroke myself hard just then and exhale breathily as my hand moves up my cock slowly. ”Yeah - like that-“
My other hand hits the shower wall with more impact than expected, and I lean against it - as if it’s taking everything in me to stay upright. Let the ‘audience’ feel how much my lover’s absence affects me.
I stroke again, groaning. “Ohh sweetheart - just - like - that-“
"Tell us, Daniel..." I say, breathing fast, matching your rhythm as so often, "tell us what your lover is doing... how you want to feel his hands on you. Tell us your fantasies as you're pleasuring yourself in your shower - what is happening in your mind that is so arousing that you can't keep from touching yourself? Will your fantasy carry you to completion?
Tell us - tell us all -"
Oh - Armand -
This started as a fun little performance for you but - the more I hear your voice and how this is affecting you -
Oh god -
“I want to feel your hands - allll over me -“ I breathe as my hand moves slowly and rhythmically on my cock. “I want you to touch me like - I belong to you-“
My head leans against my arm. “I want to be on my knees for you, helpless-“ my breath hitches in my throat. “Mm. I want to be your plaything - whether that means keeping me for yourself or-“ I shiver and bite my lip. “Telling me to do what you desire - strip me naked in a BDSM club and have me whipped - oh god - tell me what to do with whoever you want – mmm - I’m yours to do with as you like-“
I raise my head from my arm, eyes half-closed, nearly swooning with desire as fantasies are spilling from my lips for you -
I don’t look directly at the camera, but I turn to show my intoxicated state - and my arousal as I stroke myself harder -
“Oh- fuck-“ I pant. “I belong to you - Sir-“
*belong to you*
*on my knees for you, helpless*
*your plaything*
Oh god and the rest - god the rest -
you *would* have made out with Soo if I'd said I'd like you to, you might not even have resented me for it, you'd do anything to please me -
that is a serious responsibility, Armand... his pleasure and well-being are in your hands.
You may well perform for this camera with another, Daniel... but it will be wholly and completely your desire. I will ask you in words and keep a close eye on you and check in with you, I promise you, my love. Any discomfort better be physical and deeply desired.
"Get on your knees, Daniel... show us how the sheer power and presence of your lover overcome you so that you cannot support yourself on your legs any more, how devoted you are to him... tell us how in your mind he tells you to kneel naked on the hard tiles of the shower and bring yourself to climax for his pleasure..."
You’re enjoying this every more than I’d hoped - god, the intrigue in your voice - the desire -
I am overcome by you, Armand…
I turn so my back is against the wall, and let my head drop back to show how spellbound I am -
“Oh you want me on my knees now?” I pant. Slowly I slide down against the wall - bracing myself with my free hand so I don’t lose balance -
“Kneeling naked on these hard tiles for you?”
Once I’ve achieved my goal, I spread my thighs apart because I think you’ll like that - do you like that baby?-
“Coming for your pleasure, Sir?” I moan as I begin to stroke harder. “Oh god - I’m - so close -“
You know what a *really* good feature of cameras is? You can turn them off. And then you can turn them on again later for more filming, should you so desire.
"Stop."
Your hand pauses in mid-stroke. I carefully place the camera on the dresser, walk towards you, get into the shower with you, soaking my clothes in seconds as I hold your chin.
"To be continued at a certain point of my choosing. But now - right now - both director and cameraman *really* need to fuck you. You think you can accommodate them, without coming yourself? First the cameraman in your mouth - then the director in your arse? Hearing your cries echoing against the tiles... that's going to be the subject of another film, once I've purchased a tripod.
But first let's rehearse it - look what your mouth has done," I say, lowering your chin so your eyes are level with my crotch, pushing your head forward against the wet fabric. "You've made the director forget his film, made the cameraman switch off his camera, seducing them with your siren song. You really ought to finish what you've started, don't you think?"
Water pours from wet strands of my hair onto your face as I let you go and you look up at me again.
Stop?
I become aware of my hand growing still. I would have thought it would take every ounce of discipline I have - but apparently I stopped immediately. Are you putting the camera down?? Oh I hope you’re pleased with -
Oh. My god. You’re in the shower.
Fully dressed.
And – ohh -
My cock twitches as you speak - as you tell me what to do -
God yes Armand - this is even better than performing for you -
I stare up at your face, your eyes glowing like burning fireballs.
“I do think - that would be a good idea, Sir,” I murmur - I unfasten your pants - they’re getting so wet, I think I should pull them off? I slide them from your legs along with your sleek black underwear and you step out of them. Eyes transfixed by your beautiful cock, I place my hands on your thighs and move closer.
I’m vaguely aware of you unbuttoning your shirt and dropping it on a pile of wet clothes -
I must have tossed your pants to the side without thinking.
I have more important things to focus on - reverently I press my lips to the head of your cock - then slowly slide my mouth over it. Then I sigh at the taste of you, at the silky hardness on my tongue - and I begin to fellate you, groaning with the pleasure of it.
The warm water pouring over me, the scent of your soap in my nostrils, and your hands and mouth on my cock... the camera is no longer rolling but I can't help imagining what we look like, the boy on his knees, the paleness of his hands on my brown thighs, my head leaning back against the wall as you take me in your hand and mouth, sighing with pleasure - and that is real, you really do love sucking my cock, especially when you're on your knees, *especially* on a hard surface... you adore your submission, how could I doubt it... and I don't, but I still don't know why you think you're not important to me - because you're not a vampire - but I do *not* want to think about that right now, right now there is a velvet mouth around me, and the image I captured with my camera earlier runs into the image that is here, now, a wet boy with a wet mouth, water pouring down all around us.
You pause for a second, let your mouth run full of water, take me inside again - oh, that feels - different - your tongue playing around my head, God Daniel you're a natural...
I've been excited by your display and you are rock hard and there is no need to drag this out - the camera is off; the only audience is us.
I pull you up by the hair, with some help from my telekinesis, and drag you into the bedroom where I throw you over the footrest of the bed, which is of a very convenient height - perfect for you to rest your hips on when you're standing spread-legged and tip-toed, which is exactly the right height for me to plunge inside you -
you are panting, your wet body and hair dripping on the bedsheets, as I prepare you, grab your hair again, pull up your head as I enter you -
your groan and your clenching nearly undo me -
I pull your head closer as I sink inside and bite your neck.
There is nothing in this world like sucking your cock - I love it, I crave it - but you did mention fucking my arse - god I love how you speak - that posh English accent perched atop those older layers from your past I long to excavate -
…
Stop thinking Daniel. I have in my mouth the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen and I need to -
Oh - suddenly I’m being pulled up and into the bedroom -
And thrown over the bed - fuck I love being manhandled by you when you get excited -
As I adjust to my new position, I’m dimly aware of fingers inside me, opening me up -
Preparing to take what’s yours -
There’s something about still being soaking wet from the shower - you not bothering to get us dry feels so primal and urgent and – ungh -
Your cock pushes into me as I’m distracted by my head being yanked up by the hair -
Oh - god -
After very basic preparation, I feel like I’m being skewered in the most delicious way imaginable - but you know I love it when you get rough -
And then - that familiar sensation of sharp teeth -
oh fuck Armand -
Piercing my neck as you fuck me slow and deep -
OH -
God -
Yes –
Sex with you is always new, it seems - of course I've only been doing this regularly for - is it a year? And a few months... Wow - it seems a lot longer and at the same time like it's only just started.
Your body never ceases to overwhelm me with its pleasures - given so eagerly and taken so fully.
I pull you closer by your neck - careful not to choke you, but still making it a *bit* uncomfortable to breathe; you don't mind that, quite the contrary - and growl in your ear, "You can come - but I'm not touching your cock, nor are you. You will come from me fucking you alone."
I release you and you fall over the bed, hold yourself up by your arms, blood dripping from your neck - see, this is why we have black sheets - and after a few groans, moans, and shudders, I can feel your orgasm nearing - no wonder, you were so close before - and then you *squeeze* around me and oh *God* -
God this is so fucking good, you feel so - fucking – good -
you want me to - come now?
Ohh - god yes - I want to -
I want to come for you Armand -
As you’re fucking me so good - so hard -
Yeah - just like that-
Just like that -
My orgasm when it comes crashes through me like a tidal wave -
Shaking my body, making me spasm as you pound me - I’m dimly aware of you coming too - shivering – moaning - mmm-
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying there with you on top of me. All I know is that I want to lie here forever. I protest when you move out of me, but you shush me reassuringly - and suddenly I find myself lifting up and floating across the bed. Giggling helplessly and being deposited gently on the mattress.
I wave you towards me limply. “Show-off. Get over here,” I say with a lazy grin. You float over the bed obligingly and land next to me with a soft thump.
“Tripod, huh?” I chuckle. “I take it you enjoyed your foray into cinematography?”
I pull you into my arms and kiss your hair. “Mmm. That was amazing,” I murmur. “It’s always amazing with you…”
"It is... but that's all you, beloved," I smile.
"No, you!" you protest cutely.
"Who has had most lovers to compare?" I retort triumphantly. You pout.
"No fair."
Your face scrunches up so adorably it makes me chuckle, and pull you close. "Come, let me see your neck..."
I bite my finger and press it against the wounds, gently rub them, as you close your eyes in bliss. Then I scratch it open a bit further, hold it against your mouth, have you suck keenly.
"Did you know you're the only human ever to have drunk my blood? Precious few vampires either... only Lestat and Louis."
Your blood - oh - as ever, is like swallowing a fairy tale in flames -
Desire-liquid fire-bewitchment snaking through a crimson river like an unspeakable spell – mmm – yess -
I blink when you speak and move your finger away. Focus, Daniel.
"I - No, really?" I say, wishing I could drink a little more. Could I ask? Nno, I don't think you'd say yes -
"So - why didn't you want to share with other vampires?" I ask, glowing at the thought of being part of such an elite group. I know I can't compare with vampires, not really -
But - the only human! That feels important.
"Does it change relationships to drink someone's blood? I know how this must sound but I'm not interviewing you, I swear," I grin. "I just want to know everything about you..."
"It's fine, beloved..." I say. "Lovers can talk, when they're all spent after strenuous exercise..."
I prop myself up on my elbow, play with the wayward curl over your right ear that always seems to want to be as far away as possible from its brethren.
"Sharing blood is always as intimate as it is with you... way more than having sex. You can see someone's feelings, their memories, their past; secrets that they can keep from you when you're reading their mind, they can't hide when sharing blood. You can hide nothing. So it's making yourself incredibly vulnerable... not something I relish.
As for humans - you must be really careful. There is an addictive quality to vampire blood, as you have noticed... and a human can easily fall into your thrall, a blood junkie, willing to do anything for the next drink.
It can easily be confused with falling in love.. the vampire is the source of the one thing that they desire more than anything else."
You can hide nothing...
Well I've already shared my deepest feelings - and that I want to be turned! - so I don't have any secrets from you - and I don't want to keep anything from you anyway!
Blood junkie, willing to do anything...
That's not what's happening here is it... No! Of course not. I haven't confused blood for love - I fell for you so hard before I even had my first taste. Besides, my supply is based on how much you're willing to give me. So - there's not really a question of doing too much. Right?
"I love sharing blood with you..." I breathe. "Being so intimate with you..."
You lean in to kiss my lips. "As I do with you, beloved..." you say, your voice a soft caress.
I gaze into your beautiful glowing eyes and sweep my fingers through your tousled hair. "Sharing blood or not - I love you, Armand..."
I do want to believe that. And I *do*; I do believe that.
But I do wonder if the blood contributes. Enhances.
Perpetuates?
And what about me? Why is my hunger for your blood so much greater than the blood of anyone else? I've never heard of a vampire getting addicted to a human's blood... but I love yours, everything about it, the taste, the way you look when I drink from you, the intimacy we share in that moment...
"So tell me, Daniel... what do you want in your life? What would you like to see, to achieve, to attain?"
Whoa - gear change. That felt sudden… But I was just saying I wanted to know everything about you - I guess you’re feeling the same way?
“What do I want in life?” I repeat. “You already know-“
Surely you know?
“Working on my project, publishing a book… I’m still drawn to investigative journalism, but I need to call the shots about what I write. And I really do like the idea of writing a one-man play. Although I feel way less confident about my performance skills than you do,” I smirk. “All of this just flows naturally when I’m with you, you know - we have a random conversation and suddenly I’m scribbling an outline for a play at three in the morning… we try to film interviews, it’s a wash, and the next thing I know, we’re filming something a little more ‘artistic’-” I think back, smiling.
“I travelled because of you, I started researching gay history and revolutions in culture and politics because of you - You want to know what I want, Armand? More of this. More of everything with you.”
I cuddle closer to you. “And I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the world - Turkey, Egypt, and Tunisia were next on my list - but the ‘Playing Cat-and-Mouse with a Vampire’ Tour stopped a bit suddenly…” I say, batting your hair.
"Whose fault is that?" I smirk. "You stopped running away... and now look what's happened to you. Fallen into the clutches of an evil monster, your blood drunk, your body abused for his pleasure - no, you definitely should run to - Turkey, Egypt, and Tunisia. Especially now it's cold. I could hunt you in the balmy evening air instead of lashing rain.
And it would be interesting to get a perspective of homosexuality there - make it a world-wide book, not just a history of the USA, Portugal, and Germany, but a selection of cultures on different continents. What a great idea Daniel! And I love the idea of you writing plays and me helping - at least with one-man shows there is no acting troupe to deal with.
Where do you want to start? Egypt is furthest south so might be warmest this time of year. I've had enough of New York weather."
I get up, pull you off the bed.
"Come on - let's have a shower and head to the airport."
Chapter 3: Memory is a Tricky Thing
Chapter Text
I listen to you, feeling a mixture of deep affection and amusement at how carried away you get with new ideas. Ha ha, Armand - yes we'll just run off to Egypt to write my play and research homosexuality in the Middle East and North Africa. Then suddenly you're pulling me up, as I protest weakly -
Armand, what-
Shower? Airport??
"Wait - you want to go now??" I ask, dazed.
"Didn't you say you wanted to go?" You steer me towards the bathroom. "No time like the present, isn't that what people say? Did I get that right, beloved?"
"Yes you did and yes we can go to Egypt - that sounds - amazing but - Armand-" I stammer. "Can't it wait until, I don't know, I get some sleep?"
"You'll sleep on the plane, Daniel," you say reassuringly as you push me into the shower. "It's a very long flight you know..."
I laugh, stunned. Was I not just having a mind-blowing orgasm less than five minutes ago??
"Yeah I assume it would be -" I sputter as water starts up a little too close to my face.
"So you'll have a few drinks and you'll be out like a light," you say, sounding pleased as you begin to lather my hair with shampoo. "I haven't been to Egypt in quite some time. This was a wonderful idea, Daniel! Clever boy."
"It wasn't exactly my idea to -" I start, but then you're off and running about what you recall about homosexual culture in Egypt when you were last there, and - actually that is interesting - but it will be just as interesting in a few days won't it?
"When were you last there?" I ask, before I'm sputtering again under the stream of water as you rinse my hair. "Armand - Armand - no need to drown me; Egypt will still be there tomorrow!"
"Sorry beloved," I say as I direct the spray further upwards and tilt your head back, so the water doesn't run down your face. I rinse your hair - I love how soft it is when it's clean and wet; I could keep at this for hours - but not now. I wash the rest of your body and my own, switch off the water, get us towels.
"Last time... oh, in the fifties? Yes, late fifties. It was lovely - visiting all those ancient monuments by moonlight. I do recommend we do that as well - it's lovely and quiet and though you don't have vampire vision, you can use a torch, I'll make sure you don't get disturbed..."
"A torch?" you ask, puzzled. "But - wouldn't a flashlight attract less attention? Why a torch?"
I blink, then get what you mean. "Brits call flashlights torches. They're old-fashioned like that. *Anyway*, it's going to be amazing; you'll love it. Is Nasser still president?"
"No -" you say, grasping around for clothes, throwing them into a suitcase, "It's Sadat now - are you not packing?"
I shrug. What would I pack? "They sell clothes in Egypt that are way better to wear in Egypt. You just make sure you have your writing machine and your recording equipment and your notebooks. I don't see what I need to pack."
Writing machine. OK. Yes. Apparently we are indeed flying off to Egypt at the drop of a hat - without you packing a stitch. I'm still throwing toiletries, underwear, and a change of clothes in a suitcase because - Because! I don't know what people wear in Egypt but how do I know I'll even like - Oh, you're already calling a taxi! Jesus, you really are intent on getting to Egypt as soon as possible - like yesterday if you could manage it.
Well all of my equipment is packed and ready, so we're good to go I guess? We'd better be because you're already out in the hall. I find myself hurrying to the elevator behind you.
And the next thing I know I'm being bustled into the taxi and we're on our way to the airport.
"Did that really just happen?" I say, looking back at the apartment building as we pull into traffic.
"Did what really just happen, Daniel?" you ask. When I turn back to you, you're smiling at me glowingly.
God your smile could soothe me in hell. I lean my head back against the seat, gazing at you. I had been referring to the decision to go to Egypt but now that we're on our way - everything feels positively surreal.
"I don't know. New York?" I ruffle your hair. "Everything. You magically appeared in a taxi when I landed in New York. I was pretty fucked up - this hasn't all been a drug-addled dream, has it?"
"It has, I'm afraid," I nod. "You drank too much on the plane and arrived in New York drunk, walked to Central Park where you bought some Lucy and heavily hallucinated these past months. In reality, less than a day has passed. I found you after about an hour and chased away some guys who wanted to rob you of your belongings, sat next to you to see what you were dreaming. It was *very* interesting..." I smile. "Some of the content was downright titillating." You giggle and blush most becomingly.
"So I hauled you onto the next flight out, to Egypt. It's going to be near summer there, but we'll get a hotel with good air conditioning.
Though of course it's possible you're still hallucinating, and I'm merely watching this, and whispering suggestions in your ear...
Who among us can know what is real?"
I listen to you with a racing heart - god, you're so convincing! - and I've totally been high enough in my life, that a slightly panicked thrill goes through me at the thought that this could be -
What if-?
You're smiling though. You're just messing with me - right??
Yes. Of course you are -
Jesus, Danny...
"Oh it's possible I'm still hallucinating?" I grin. "That would explain the devastatingly handsome vampire whisking me away to Egypt. Sounds like a sexy bedtime story... If you keep whispering into my ear, the story will just go on and on forever..." I say dreamily, looking at you with half-closed eyes. "What happens when we get to Egypt, baby?"
"I'll show you the amazing places, tell you their stories... of pharaohs and demons, of gods and kings - we will sleep in the days in a hotel with thick curtains and a mosquito net - I disapprove of any competition for your blood, thank you very much. You can eat foul and taamiyya, and smoke hashish and opium from sheeshas. And drink beer - did you know that beer had already been a popular drink for 10,000 years when the pyramids were built? And the pyramids are the most ancient structures in Egypt - the Great Pyramid of Cheops was the oldest of the antique seven wonders of the world, and the only one that's still standing. It's so old - Cleopatra lived closer to now than she did to the time when the Gizan pyramids were built. They are from the Old Kingdom, which encompassed four dynasties and lasted 506 years. The first pharaoh of the third dynasty, which was the first dynasty of the Old Kingdom, was Djoser, who built the first pyramid by piling five mastabas on top of each other – you know what they are?” You nod, cuddled up against me like I am indeed telling you a bedtime story.. “That one is still there, in Saqqara - it's really interesting to see the development of pyramid building. After Djoser came Sneferu, who tried to build a smooth pyramid starting from the same angle as mastabas had, but that was too steep, and the first attempt collapsed. The second one had to decrease the steepness halfway through, resulting in a bent pyramid. Finally he managed to get the first 'proper' pyramid built, the Red Pyramid.
I'll take you there - they're all near Cairo."
Your words are streaming into my mind like my own personal history documentary, narrated by the most beautiful voice I've ever heard.
"Sounds amazing. And then what? Save something for Day Two," I chuckle, sounding very dreamy indeed. Oh god - I'm not falling asleep am I? I don't want to be groggy at the airport -
It turns out I didn't have to worry - you keep me awake by telling me fascinating bits of history and your time there - Then the next thing I know we're at the airport - waiting at the gate - boarding the plane - and settling into our seats - first class, since you're the one who purchased the tickets...
Blind down, holding your cool hand under the blanket - feeding you my warmth.
"Mmm. I wish we were in our hotel room already," I sigh. I'm imagining what Cairo will be like based on what you've told me and the pictures I've seen - but of course it will be a whole other thing when I'm there physically - with the sounds and scents - the vibe of a place can be reflected through image and word but not truly captured.
You turn to look at me, smiling. "I'm looking forward to that too, beloved..."
How anyone can not notice the beauty that is your eyes, I have no idea - you've explained that it's something about your aura that prevents people from paying too much attention to you unless you want them to -
I tried to remember what you looked like to me when I thought you were just a guy in a bar that knew Louis - I vaguely remember dark brown eyes, but memory is a tricky thing as I've learned from interviewing people about their pasts - it reminds me a bit of a slithering eel - once it slips beneath the water, it's too murky to see it clearly.
So strange to think I ever thought you were mortal though! Imagine - if all this vampire stuff was just some wild hallucination courtesy of Lucy - and you were just a beautiful man sitting next to me...
There are so many things I want to ask you about your mortal life - after the first disastrous attempt to find out, I decided to tread very carefully when it came to asking you questions. But we've been together for months now - and we're so deeply in love - I'm sure it will be different.
...won't it?
Being far away from home feels like a good time to broach the subject again - only - not on a plane, close to curious ears...
Anyway - you seem keen to watch the James Bond film that starts soon after take-off. I'd be surprised except you seem utterly transfixed by the spy gadgets and devices - should have known.
I find my eyelids drooping to the sound of gunfire and shouting, and then I slip into darkness.
A day rises outside the window sooner than reasonable. You slumber mostly, occasionally awoken for food and drink and a quiet chat and snuggle.
A woman behind us clears her throat. Again. Loudly. She tuts.
She doesn't like our display of affection in public. She thinks I'm Egyptian - really? - and you're American - well, one out of two. She thinks we're disgusting and unnatural and she blames me; I must be some immoral native luring clean young American boys into a world of sin. I nearly chuckle at the thought of you being a clean American boy, but decide to ignore her.
I am not given the chance, however, because the lady decides she needs to save America's youth from depravity and rings for the stewardess to make her the vanguard in her moral crusade. The poor girl has buckets of righteous indignation poured over her, glancing at us, powerless to stop the tirade, which though it addresses the stewardess is clearly meant to be heard by us - and the rest of the first-class cabin, though many were trying to sleep. The occasional grumble is heard, but most people are watching the show with interest - it's better than the in-flight film.
Great. You look at me, frustrated, angry, remnants of shame visible in your eyes. You fidget uncomfortably, move away from me.
A memory rises up - Lestat during the trial, eviscerating a homophobe in the audience. I loved him so fiercely at that moment - though there were so many complex terrible things happening, that moment isolated in time was a gem.
I am not Lestat. I don't want to stand out, have all eyes on me. He withers away if too few people look at him.
But you are looking sad. Her accent reminiscent of where you are from. Primal humiliation, old wounds.
I turn to the woman behind us. Fully turn, my knees on the seat, arms leaning on the headrest, looking at her. She flushes, then steels herself with the resolve of the upstanding.
"You are so right," I say in a quiet voice, and a hush comes over the cabin as people are straining to hear what I say. "It's a scandal, the way young Americans these days are led astray by people like me."
I mean, I fully agree with you there, lady.
"It's a crying, crying shame. Such pure, young, innocent minds, which should be skipping through cornfields when they're in their teens, are instead hounded in their bedrooms at night... where you can hear their crying. When your husband has left your daughter alone to drink himself further into a stupor downstairs, and you turn your head, so your good ear is lying on the pillow, you can still hear her, can't you? She was only eight when it started; she's thirteen now, so you've learned to *nearly* always sleep through it, haven't you? A good night's sleep is *so* important.
Of course you are a good Catholic, and more importantly, he is rich, so you just sleep on your good ear, and wait till your daughter will go to college, she is such a bright girl, not long now.
But you still hear the cries some nights, don’t you? And you still see the look on her face when she tried to talk with you, but you told her to stop telling tales, it was unbecoming of a good sensible girl, and when she tried again later, you managed to change the subject in time.
And it's alright, because you and your husband and your daughter are God-fearing, and you sometimes wonder if God punished you by denying you more children, but you are also relieved, because what if you had more daughters, but God doesn't look at your family. don't worry, He is way too busy condemning filthy foreigners like me to Hell, who come to America, like your British great-great-grandparents did, but that doesn't count, they were not foreigners, and I am, because despite being British, I am brown.
So let's not mention the fact that your great-grandmother was the child of your great-great-grandfather's black housekeeper, shall we? Raised like one of your great-great-grandmother's own, such a selfless lady, and the child was light enough to not raise an eyebrow. That's *fine* because your great-great-grandfather was *such* a good Catholic, like your own husband.
It really must have hurt when the abortion had to happen, didn't it? All life is sacred. But what would you have told the family, your friends? Your daughter was the new Holy Virgin? Best to arrange things quickly... and fortunately you knew a reliable doctor, and your daughter was not *too* unwell for *too* long.
But again, God won't have seen that, because He's fully occupied with the desire to smite a tired man snuggling sleepily against another man; an iniquity, a sin, a - what did you call it? - blasphemy, that's right; and does not the Holy Scripture admonish us to reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching?
Please - stop crying, we are not yet repentant of our sins -"
The woman is in hysterics. The stewardess looks at her, at me, at a loss.
I sigh.
The cabin is not large, though pretty much everyone in it is watching our show now. It's not hard to erase the recollection of my speech from everyone except the woman, let them sink back to their sleep, their book, whatever they were doing. The stewardess heads back to the galley, forgets she ever was out.
The woman remains sobbing her heart out, ignored by all.
I watch what you do to the angry woman, feeling too shocked to move. Even as I’m horrified by what you reveal, part of me actually feels bad for her, I do - because surely once she was a frightened child in a cold unloving home to be so in denial about her own home – but - her own daughter??
Fucking hell, lady!
And she had the gall to judge me - judge us?
And it finally clicks into place - all these people who have been freaking out about anyone being gay are the ones who feel imprisoned - by their upbringing, by their religion, by the mainstream culture - by their own boring jobs and unfulfilling lives and fucked up marriages -
so if they can’t be free, they have to be sure no one else can! Especially people who are breaking the rules and not being boring or small or bitter like them…
I listen to the rest in a daze - and then suddenly everyone goes back to what they were doing before-??
What? You - wiped their memories?? Just - like that?! All those people?
But not that lady -
Well - maybe this will make her finally face the horror show that is her life. Or maybe it won’t do shit.
I turn to face you, utterly stunned. “Well that was… disturbing…”
“Indeed. She shouldn’t have made you feel uncomfortable,” you say smoothly. Your voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it.
I blink at you. “You did that because - I was uncomfortable?”
“I will not tolerate anyone making you feel sad, Daniel,” you say severely. “Especially someone who behaves monstrously themselves. Surely you don’t think I was too harsh?”
It’s not just an edge to your voice - there’s anger there, darkness -
You emotionally eviscerated that woman because of how I was feeling -
god -
I caress your hand - above the blanket this time. “Armand - no one has ever done anything like that for me,” I say, my voice shaking slightly. “No one has ever stood up for me - and you -“
“And I-?” You’re staring at me intently, reading my expression - were you worried I was judging you for what you did?
“You - are my defender - my champion-“ I say, squeezing your hand.
Suddenly a memory floats to the surface from my time in Portugal - when I was stumbling drunkenly from a gay bar late in the night, seeing two men with hard faces watching me as I walked past - I don’t know if they were secret police or homophobes or if they just hated Americans - but one nodded to the other -
And I was too foggy to know what to do - and I felt real fear that I wouldn’t make it back to my hotel -
And suddenly there was a muffled yelp and when I looked back they seemed to have just – disappeared -
How did I forget about that??
“Armand - When you were hunting me across Europe - were you also looking out for me in case I needed protecting??”
“You behaved - very recklessly, Daniel,” you say softly.
“So you were like - my guardian angel?” I say, my heart feeling ready to burst at the thought.
“Don’t assign virtue to my actions,” you chide, but then you caress my cheek. “I wasn’t about to let any harm befall you… I had marked you as my prey, after all-“
My lips twitch despite myself. “So if you hadn’t killed me yet - no one else was allowed to.”
“Certainly not!” You look positively affronted and a giggle escapes my lips.
Now you look bewildered.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to understand… you were protecting me from the shadows. Because I was your prey -”
I don’t know why my heart is racing like this-
“You were then as you are now - mine,” you agree, your eyes glinting like a feline in the darkness.
You’ve been so insistent on the idea of me having my own life one day away from you - that you’ve seemed reticent to come right out and say it - Hearing it feels so - vindicating.
And also - that’s so - unbelievably romantic!
I want to throw my arms around you and cover your face with kisses, but I’m painfully aware of being in a public place. So I just lift your hand and press my lips to it.
“Oh baby -“ I whisper against your skin. “The hotel can’t come soon enough…”
We book a room at the Omar Khayyam hotel despite your protests that we can't possibly stay in a palace.
"It was a palace, in fact - Napoleon III and Empress Eugénie had to have somewhere to stay when they came to celebrate the opening of the Suez Canal, and now plebeians like you and me can play at being kings and queens of the Nile."
I have to admit that it pleases me immensely to see you gawk at the opulence around us as we are guided to our room, one porter carrying your single suitcase, another your bag, which are deposited on their own little camp beds before they show us all amenities of the room, demonstrating that the TV, lights, and bath do indeed work. I give both some money and they leave us.
The room is gorgeous, overlooking the luscious garden with its tinkling fountains, small lights among the bushes. I open the windows and breathe deeply of the air flowing through the mosquito mesh - the smell of bougainvillea, the river, the pollution, and the merciless desert behind it all make me nostalgic - for a second I am startled when I hear your voice instead of Louis', but there's no bitterness, not even wistfulness - just pleasure in your company.
I walk behind you as you breathe the air, wrap my arms around you, kiss the hairs at the back of your neck.
"Well, my king..." I whisper, making the hairs stand up, "after your arduous journey, surely you want a luxurious bath? With your own personal attendant to tend to your silken skin and luscious curls... making sure that every pore is cleansed of the debris of the journey. It will be my honour to serve you..."
My head falls back and you press your lips into the spot where my neck and my shoulder connect.
Wait -
My king?
My honour to serve you?
Shouldn’t that be the other way around?
Yes ok - I do enjoy it when you wash my hair -
and bathe me -
Huh…
But that’s because you’re the embodiment of sensuality - and everything you do gives me untold pleasure -
Still - I’m about to protest when I realize - you do what gives you pleasure too. I don’t need to be in a luxury hotel, but I’m hardly going to demand we stay in a dive just because that’s what I would -
Ohh - your lips are moving up my neck and it’s very distracting -
“I don’t know who this ‘king’ is,” I breathe. “But it sounds like he’s in for a treat…”
"He most certainly is," I murmur against your neck, making goose bumps rise up on your arms.
"Come with me..." I walk to the bathroom, open the door for you, close it behind us, start up the water.
You start fiddling with your buttons, but I hold up a hand - "Wait one second, please."
The tub is sunken into a tiled platform, the tiles myriad shades of blue and teal, offset with gold. In an alcove behind the bath bottles line shelves with names of exotic flowers - I choose magnolia and pour it in the rising water. A sweet scent immediately fills the air.
I turn back to you.
"Please, allow me," I say, reaching for your shirt, slowly undoing the buttons one by one, unveiling your chest, then rolling down your sleeves and pulling off the shirt, discarding it into a woven empty basket that presumably is for laundry. You smell a bit sweaty after the journey - I love the smell, so full of pheromones. Next I undo your belt, take it from the loops, hang it over the hook at the back of the door, undo your zip, and kneel down onto the floor to untie your laces. I help you step out of your shoes, put them neatly next to each other to the side, pull off your socks and deposit them into the basket as well.
My head rises up at the same time as my hands do, and when I take the waistband of your trousers I look up at your face from my knees, my eyes lidded, my mouth slightly open, my tongue licking my lips.
As you prepare a bath for me that smells like heaven has descended to earth -
As you remove my clothes with so much care and reverence, as though I was something precious -
I’m nearly dizzy from trying to make sense of this, being treated like this in such an opulent environment -
How did I get here?
And what - on earth - did I do to deserve this kind of treatment -
From you??
And then - when you’re on your knees, removing my pants and looking up at me -
Oh my god - Armand –
You are looking like you can't believe your eyes, your mouth is hanging open and your eyes are huge. What, have you never seen a handsome man on his knees for you?
I put your last vestments into the basket, then make short work of my own. The bath is filling up, though slowly, due to its size - but it's not cold here. I take your hand and guide you up the steps, then carefully seat you into the shallow water. You sigh, your body visibly relaxing. I take a rolled-up towel for you to lean your head on.
I noticed that one of the shelves has a full range of shaving products, with an old-fashioned hand-held razor - just what we need to pass the time. They are all lined up in order of use, instructions are on the back - how convenient. I smile - usually I only shave you when you're sluggish getting up, and then it's more dragging a razor over you so you look halfway respectable - this is going to be very different; all these different concoctions with different effects and purposes; your lovely skin to pamper -
I hold a flannel under hot water, lay it over your face. "Is that alright? Can you breathe OK?" I check, and you purr that yes, thanks, you can. I let it sit for a moment so your pores can open, then gather some clean water in a bowl, take the flannel off your face, wash it with the clean water, and start massaging in the face scrub cream which has some hard kernels in it - salt?
Carefully and patiently I rub it across your jaw.
“God you’re spoiling me,” I mumble as you spread a beautifully scented cream over my face. “What if all this goes to my head - and I become an arrogant tyrant, demanding daily skin care and luxury products?”
Your chuckle is adorable. “Arrogant tyrant. Luxury products. You of the torn jeans and holey socks…?”
“Mm-hmm… just call me the patron saint of holey socks,” I say, sounding nearly drunk with pleasure as you finish rubbing the stuff into my face.
You chuckle again. “You are ridiculous, Daniel. Now I know you’ll find this extremely difficult, but you’ll need to stop talking when I’m shaving you…”
“Whaat? I don’t talk that much,” I protest, this time making you laugh loudly. I open one eye. “Now you’ve done it. The evil tyrant is offended,” I say, pretending to sulk.
“Oh dear, you’re evil now too?” you say, trying to look concerned.
Oh, the tyrant was arrogant. Whoops. Well - I have jet lag. And this bath is making me sooo relaxed…
“Apparently! I did try to warn you against spoiling me…” I sigh, closing my eyes. “Ah well, the damage is done, you may as well finish…”
"You just relax, my evil tyrant," I say, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You are in excellent hands..." I wash off the scrub. Already your face feels smoother.
Next in the 'luxuriant shaving ritual' is a shave oil - it will leave your hairs softer and protect your delicate skin. Your stubble has never been so pampered in its life, I am sure of it.
It never ceases to fascinate me, the hair growth on your face. It must have happened for me when I was human, but I really don't remember. Your face will be perfectly smooth, like nothing ever touched it. Then it's starting to feel rough. And then there are myriad hairs, all bursting through the skin like they have every right to, like the skin has never been different - and a shave, and they're all gone again.
I like my hair - the length is versatile, and I can cut it if I want it shorter for a couple of hours. I can't imagine having a beard - I don't think I'd like the look, and you say shaving every two days is a chore - I imagine the only way to keep a vampire beard in check would be an hourly shave. Not worth the bother. I'm glad they were not in fashion when I was turned.
The water level in the bath is rising, the room's air growing warm and humid and fragrant. Your face softens when I'm rubbing the oil in.
"Mmm... that smells delicious, baby..."
"All to protect your precious skin," I whisper, then reach for the shaving cream, lather it on your skin with a brush. This too has a lovely scent - I am trying to place it, but fail. It's slightly smoky and woody, but sweet. A bit like incense?
As you continue your ministrations, I feel like I’m floating - if I opened my eyes, would we both be floating above the bathtub? I don’t know if I’ve ever been so deeply relaxed in my life -
“Mmm. You’re so good to me-“ I sigh.
You make me feel so cared for -
So free -
So loved.
I think if I sank deeper into this feeling, I might start to cry - but I don’t want to cry and upset the flow of this beautiful experience.
Maybe later.
…strange thought. But yeah now is not the time for crying and making you worry -
I just want to enjoy all this TLC from my vampire lover. In our luxury hotel. In Egypt.
How is this my life??
Not for the first time, I thank my lucky stars that you decided to hunt me all those months ago instead of killing me outright - it bought me the time I needed to somehow make you fall in love with me.
“I love you, my sweetheart-“ I mumble and sigh with pleasure.
“I love you too, Daniel. Remember what I told you to do when I start shaving you?” you say, amusement and affection in your voice.
I smile at the sound of it. “Um - ‘Put a sock in it, Beloved’?” I ask innocently.
"I could put one of your socks in it, but I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy," I grin. "But seriously, Daniel - I am about to scrape your skin with a very very sharp blade. I would not want to cut your skin and ruin the effect of these magical unctions and my efforts. Is that clear?"
Huh, I've gone from dutiful servant back to man in charge in very little time - but then maybe the dutiful servant is worried about his liege's skin.
You are about to nod, then think better of that - instead sound 'mm-mm'.
I put the blade against your skin and scrape it very, very carefully. I've seen people do this, and I understand the principle, but I have never done it myself - or if I have, it's so many centuries ago it's completely slipped my brain. For a moment I feel mild panic - what am I thinking doing this? What if I cut your artery? - then chide myself - if I cut your artery I will just cut my finger and heal it. I'm hardly going to accidentally decapitate you.
Still - the blade is very sharp, one wrong angle and I'll cut through the skin and that will hurt you and make you unrelaxed so that may not happen.
I look closely, keep my entire body fully still, move with utmost concentration, making the foam disappear. Perfectly smooth skin appears.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I'm done and the sharp blade can go.
I might use it some other time - *might*. But for now, it's rinsed and lying to dry.
I think aww, it's so sweet that you fuss so much about my safety...
Wait - have I ever experienced an old-fashioned shave before?
... No. I have not.
And the reality of it hits when I feel the blade against my cheek scraping against my skin - ever so carefully -
Oh - shit. That's why you told me not to talk. And you're going to drag that all over my face - and my neck?
Jesus - if it were anyone else with a straight razor in their hand, I think I might be getting really nervous right now -
But you, my love - you I trust with my life. And a sharp sharp blade at my throat. Because whatever you do with my life, in the end - I just want to be in your loving arms.
Still, when I hear you put the razor down - and sigh with relief- I feel like I might just slide down under the water.
"Um. That was a little more scary than I expected," I admit to you, opening my eyes. Tentatively I touch my cheek and then my neck. "Whoa - what a difference though! Feel -" I grab your hand and press it to the side of my neck. Your fingers trail down my skin and then curl around my neck.
"Do you feel it?" I say breathlessly.
"I do - you are so smooth... hmmm..." I move closer, rub my lips against your jaw. Not a bump.
"Not done yet though," I smile as I grab the cooling gel and carefully rub it into your skin. You shudder slightly, then sink even further into the bath, which by now is full, closing your eyes.
"That's so good baby..."
I finish with intensely nourishing after-shave balm, which is a sensual pleasure to rub into your skin, which is so smooth and soft now, I just can't stop rubbing and massaging it. You look as happy and at peace as a pampered cat.
I sink into the bath myself, letting the warm water surround my body. It doesn't have the same effect as it has on you - my muscles don't get tense and hence can't unwind - but it is lovely to be warmed up from all sides. I sigh and close my eyes reflectively rather than reflexively - I am reflecting you, my beloved, so content and at ease in this lovely teal and gold waterscape.
I move towards you, sit on your lap. Your cock was as relaxed as its owner, but perks up at my proximity. I stroke your jaws, your eyes open.
"How else could I serve you, my King?" I ask, moving my pelvis slightly, teasing your erection up.
"Oh - I think I know..."
I let myself slide under the water, let my tongue tease at your balls, then move up your shaft before I take you into my mouth.
Oh - god -
No matter how many times you’ve done this, it’s always thrilling to feel your mouth on me - not only are you frighteningly good but I never know when there’s going to be a light scrape of your fangs -
You might take a tiny sip of blood, making me gasp -
Or sink your fangs slightly deeper to drink - dragging a guttural groan from my throat -
it’s a pleasure unlike any other - excruciating and divine - inspiring primal fear and blinding ecstasy -
And not knowing when it’s going to happen is the real mindfuck that keeps me on edge - dreading it and longing for it all at once -
But I think you won’t today - It’s been a long long day of travelling, and I’m so deeply relaxed from the bath and the most luxurious shave of my life -
I stare down at your head under the water - it’s so disconcerting but you don’t need to breathe, even though you do often enough -
Your head is moving, making the water ripple and as you increase your speed, water splashes over me.
“Oh god Armand-“ I mutter, my head falling back.
You suck harder - my body jerks and I grab the sides of the bathtub -
water splashes over the edge -
“Oh fuck-“
I suck in my breath. It’s like you’re casting a spell with your tongue - bewitching me, bewitching my cock -
“Fuck - baby - yes-“
I hear muffled exclamations through the water, all positive by the tone, so I keep going - there are tricks one can do with water that are raising particularly high-pitched noises above the surface of the bath.
I'm rewarded with warm, thick semen, swallow it - it's a bit like blood, I guess, you can taste the life in it - I do wonder if one could live on it, a vampire I mean - I picture a vampire in a brothel sucking cock after cock but it's not a picture I care to look at too closely. I should tell Louis; it would help his virtuous lifestyle. And drive Lestat absolutely demented.
I keep licking, sucking, pressing water around you until you sound desperate and wriggle away, when I let you go and raise my head above the water.
"Yes, beloved?"
I’m pleading and gasping for breath when you finally release my cock and surface from the water - like a siren rising from the depths - water streaming down your face, wet curls glistening, eyes glowing -
God - for a moment I think I’m in a myth and you’re going to drag me down into the water -
And you’re so bewitching - so irresistible - I wouldn’t even struggle. I would just slip under with you - hoping that you’d let me cross over to your realm so I could live without oxygen too -
You speak and it breaks the spell. I look at the playful innocence on your face and I laugh in a daze.
“Oh nothing - just trying to keep my mind and body from imploding from overstimulation-“ I exhale and my head drops back. “- and more pleasure than I thought I was capable of. That was - just - wow-“
“‘Wow’ - I’m a bit disappointed, I was told you were a talented writer - and all you have to say is - wow?” you tease.
I raise my head to look at you. “Not any more - I’m afraid you melted my brain,” I say sadly. “There goes my promising career, all for an epic blow job- so yeah, it was - wow-“ I splash some water at you, grinning.
"Was it worth it though?" I ask, and you sigh dramatically, throwing your head back onto the towel.
"Worth every destroyed brain cell," you sigh, then move over to me, push under my armpits. "Up."
"What? Am I not allowed to enjoy my bath? Have I not earned that at least?" I ask, faux-perplexed.
"You have earned way more than that - you have earned a deluxe Daniel Molloy blow job, but *I* can't breathe under water, so *you* will have to sit on the edge," you explain.
I push myself up onto the ledge, sit down, let you do your thing... your wonderful thing. Your mouth is so talented, Daniel...
I melt into your mouth, praise you, kiss you, cuddle you...
my Daniel, my beloved Daniel...
"What time is it?" you yawn when we're out of the bath and dried with the largest, softest towels in the world, and are lounging on one of the beds, the lights off, listening to the sounds of the city that, like New York, never sleeps. In your hand is a crystal glass with dark red wine - French; according to the receptionist they don't stock Egyptian wine because it is no good any more since the revolution.
"It's four am... a good time to go to sleep, if you like." I stroke your temple.
"I slept on the plane... but I'm pretty tired, and this bed is *so good*..." You stretch out luxuriatingly. The bedding is, of course, Egyptian cotton, and the thread count high. Four golden posters hold up a blue velvet canopy and diaphanous veils move slightly in the breeze, protecting us from any insect life that might be out for your blood.
"Sleep then, beloved... and have lovely dreams," I smile, kiss your forehead. You empty your glass, manoeuvre around the curtain to get it on the bedside table, and stretch out widely, pat the mattress next to you. I lay my head on your shoulder and your arms close around me.
I am safe for now, in your arms. Safe from the day that is imminent.
But never safe from myself.
Chapter 4: Demons in the Sun
Chapter Text
I'm running in sand at night past - pyramids? A stone lion - the sphinx - stares at me sadly -
but the eyes glow like yours -
why are you upset?
Armand why -
suddenly the sand bottoms out at my feet - it's like a sinkhole of swirling sand, like a -
glass all around me -
hourglass -
what??
My eyes fly open. Where am I? Armand??
Suddenly you appear, rising on your elbow to look down at me in concern.
"Daniel? You were dreaming-" you say softly, touching my face.
Oh thank Christ - I don't know why I thought you'd gone - or that I'd gone somewhere??
"Armand- where are we?" I croak.
Your lips part to answer.
"Wait - Egypt," I say as memories come streaming back from our travels.
"Yes. We're in Cairo," you say, continuing to stroke my face. "Was it a bad dream, beloved?"
I frown, trying to remember. But the dream seems to have slipped away like - swirling sand. In an hourglass...
"Not - bad I don't think? I think I was just confused - and my mind was just trying to catch up. Last time I was in bed, I was in New York... now suddenly I'm in Egypt. And the last time I was travelling I was being hunted by a predator! How do you think I should stay ahead of him, baby?" I ask innocently and stroke your curls back from your forehead.
“Hmmm, hiding is considered a good tactic… keeping moving, being unpredictable. Making yourself scary to the predator…
At all costs avoid ending up in his lair, especially when he rests. Whatever you do, don’t go into his bed and thrash around. That’s likely to alert him to your presence…”
I move closer to you, lick my fangs, making you shiver with delight.
“If you find yourself in such a position, there’s little hope of saving yourself - all you can try is seeming larger than you are, confusing the beast into thinking you are frightening and dangerous - then you might be able to distract him long enough to get away - or even - if you are very brave and lucky - be able to overwhelm him…”
I nod solemnly. "Avoid ending up in his lair. Got it. But if I do, try to seem larger than I am - like this?" I take your hand and push it against my hardening cock. "Tell me if this might work on a predator, Armand - are you feeling confused yet?"
You chuckle low in your throat as your fingers curl around the shaft and squeeze firmly. "I do find myself growing distracted, yes..."
"Yeah? And you said - keep moving?" I rock my pelvis so my cock slides up and down in your hand. "Do I seem - dangerousss?"
"Mmm. I think you're the most dangerous mortal I've ever met..." you say breathily.
A charge goes through me at that. I don't know what that means but it sounds like something -
something hot -
"Ohh - am I?" I breathe and move like quicksilver over you, pushing your wrists down against the mattress. "This must be my moment to be unpredictable - and overwhelm the predator-" I begin to kiss your neck and then drag my tongue over it, before nipping your skin – mmm -
It doesn't take much for things to get steamy from here - and before too long I'm fucking you good and hard until we're both moaning and shuddering with ecstasy -
Later in the shower, I take my turn washing you - revelling in how beautiful you are luxuriating in the warm water - "How did I do, baby?" I say, kissing your neck. "Do I stand a chance against the predator?"
Your hands push me against the mattress and for a moment I can close my eyes, release, surrender -
Release -
Just be yours, just switch my mind off - as you fuck me, fuck me so good -
afterwards I just want to lie in your arms, maybe doze off for a moment, but you are awake, want to have a shower, want to know how you did - "You were magnificent, beloved - the predator didn't stand a chance" - want to go to the museum, to the pyramids, to the temples - "They're further south; about ten hours by train," - go shopping, go sample the food -
It's too daylight for me; high noon, not a good time for vampires Daniel... and the sun is bright out there despite the blanket of pollution protecting the inner city a bit.
You pause in your enthusiastic list of things you want to see and stop to look at me.
"Armand - baby - are you alright?"
"Yes - of course, Daniel, I'm fine," I smile bravely. You look at me.
Why do you have that look? That penetrating look, like you can see inside my head, which you *can't*, you're not a vampire or a witch, but you come closer to reading my mind than most vampires would be able to, by some - journalist magic that you have -
"Armand - honey - something is wrong," you conclude and *how* did you do that??
"Nothing is wrong; I'm just tired - it's very sunny here, it makes me dozy, even with the curtains closed..."
"We can wait to go see things - we can go tonight; the moon is still nearly full; it will look magical -"
I smile up at you. "That sounds good, beloved. If you're not tired, by all means, go and have a walk through the area - the hotel and the gardens are beautiful, and the island we are on is very prosperous and nice - and if you cross the bridge you're straight into the heart of Cairo. But for me - I would feel uncomfortable in this sun, probably get a sunburn."
After that amazing bath yesterday and delicious sex and sleep and more sex, I’m feeling fully charged up and ready to gogogo - I’m in another part of the world I haven’t seen! And this time, I’m not playing cat and mouse with a vampire -
I’m here with a vampire who’s the love of my life - I want to see the pyramids and everything you wish to show me, experience the culture, taste the cuisine, sample the drinks and drugs, all of it - perhaps spend an evening with a local man if you want to share that with me - I’m supposed to be learning about gay culture in this part of the world, after all. But first things first - food and sightseeing.
But then you remind me about the sun’s effect on you, even a vampire your age, and my heart falls - how could I have forgotten about that? God am I really that self-absorbed and insensitive??
I’m already troubled by that when I sense something’s amiss - you look the same as always, and you’re encouraging me to go exploring - so why does it feel like something is bothering you - again?
You brush it aside as an effect of the sun - which makes sense, and it would feel beyond arrogant to resist this explanation - I’m not a vampire after all, so I have to take your word for it. Unfortunately…
“Oh. Yeah of course - I wasn’t thinking, baby. I could go exploring for a bit…” I say, trying not to feel too guilty or disappointed. “You’ll be ok here? Do you want me to bring you back anything?”
What on earth could you bring him, Daniel? A backpacker for breakfast?
You assure me there’s nothing you need. And a few kisses later, I’m dressed and heading out - feeling like I’ve been torn in two. I shouldn’t feel this way - I’ll see you in a couple of hours, as soon as I want to return. And maybe you want some alone time - you’ve explained to me that vampires can be solitary creatures at times and need time to just be on their own to do as they like - I don’t really understand. I’d spend all my time with you if I could but - I’m just too full of energy to sit in the hotel room all day when there’s so much to see.
I head out of the hotel and the sun hits me like a physical blow - Jesus. No wonder you didn’t want to expose yourself to this brightness. My first purchase needs to be sunglasses… I head straight for the bridge. I’m assuming I can find them in central Cairo - if not, I’ll just look for a hat.
I happen to know you like me in hats… grinning I make my way across the Nile.
‘Armand - honey - something is wrong’
‘Something is wrong’
*‘Something is wrong’*
wrong
wrong
wrong
*wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong*
I am pacing, which I know doesn’t help. I lie in the bed and I’m tired but I don’t remember how to sleep. I used to be able to. Even nowadays. But not when I’m like this.
I float to the ceiling. It’s quite high and pretty. Gold leaf in some areas. Skilfully done.
I hide under the bed which is probably the least worst place? Maybe they have a basement. But I can’t disappear on -
who? Not Louis - not Marius -
Daniel.
I can’t disappear on Daniel.
God is my judge.
Denial.
Belteshazzar.
Why are we in Egypt? Daniel was in Babylon - where is that now? Ottoman Empire?
No that doesn’t exist…
I need blood. Why? I had some.
It’s the sun. It’s the demons in the sun. No the sun fights the demons? And I am a demon.
Then shouldn’t I walk out into the sun? Destroy the demon.
I must hide away somewhere. I can’t - it was different with Louis - I didn’t have this - what is this?
When you come back, you call my name. I answer from under the bed.
“We need to go somewhere else. I need to. You stay in the palace. You’re the son of David. I am Apopis. I need to go down to Duat and hide.”
I’m so glad we came here - even just these few hours exploring on my own have been fascinating. I had some breakfast which I can’t remember the name of - and some excellent strong coffee. I bought sunglasses and a fedora and some clothes - I can’t wait to model them for you. I also bought a couple of pieces for you - this is my first time buying you clothes, so I have no idea if you’ll like them. You look amazing in anything, so I already know you’ll look beautiful.
After I make my purchases I just wander to take in the energy of Cairo - it’s such a different experience from all the travelling I did in Europe where I was obsessed with you and mostly looking to numb myself with drinking.
I cross the bridge to the island with my bags in hand and a smile on my face. In the lift I feel dreamy - I love returning home to you. It doesn’t matter if we’re travelling - home is Armand. Armand is home.
I turn the key and the door opens with a click.
The smile fades from my face. The room is. empty.
…surely you wouldn’t have left in the daytime when you had said the sun was too intense for you?
“Armand??” I call. Maybe - you’re in the bathroom?
But then you speak - and your voice isn’t coming from the bathroom.
What the hell-? Are you under the bed?
And - what?? Why do we need to go somewhere else?
Son of David? Apopis? Duat?
What the fuck-?!
“Armand, what are you saying??” I cross the room and look under the bed. In the dim light, your eyes are glowing - but you look haunted and afraid -
“What happened??” I say urgently.
“Daniel, don’t be angry - Daniel - I need to go-“ you mutter, closing your eyes.
“What do you mean you need to go? What’s wrong, Armand?” I ask desperately.
You continue to mutter to yourself and my heart is racing.
I sit down on the floor and then I decide I need to be lying down so I can see you clearly.
Think, Daniel. What was that he said - Duat. I read something about that on the plane in the guidebook I’d bought at the airport. Egyptian mythos is so different from the mythic realm of Greece that I’m more familiar with - which is so useful to draw from for my writing when it comes to metaphors and parallels. So I was curious about how they compared but now it’s all a jumble in my head -
“Duat is - the underworld?” I guess - trying to speak as gently as I can, given how bewildered and anxious I am.
You pause and then give a slight nod.
“Armand - baby - Why would you need to hide in the underworld?”
What does that even mean?!
"Because I am a demon," I explain patiently. Surely you know this by now? "I walked in Ra's rays, so now he is out to destroy me. Which he should - really, if you had an ounce of sense, you would drag me out into the desert to burn. But you don't. And I am weak, and a coward.
So. When the sun is down, not long now, I must go down."
"Down where? Armand, where do you want to go?"
"*Down*. In the underworld, as you say."
"But - where is that? Armand, baby, is there anything I can do?" Desperation in your voice. So young, this Daniel. Not one to refuse Nebuchadnezzar's wine. Definitely cavorting with demons.
"Just wait." I don't speak further, despite exhortations from you, questions that I don't know the answers to. Pain is my body, pain is my mind, pain is my soul - or its absence. Is there a deeper pain than the phantom pain where the soul used to be? Too long ago to remember. I hope it was beautiful - or do I hope it wasn't? So it's not that much of a waste?
"Armand. Armand, the sun is down. Please come out from under the bed? Please explain what you want to do? What do you need from me?"
How long have you been talking? There was noise, always noise.
It's scary coming away from under the bed but you're right, the sun is down, the air a bit less electric, though it still leaves a metallic taste in my throat when I breathe it.
We walk through the palace - well, I walk, you rush after me - am I walking that fast? Or are you so slow?
I find the stairs to the basement, and a hatch, thank God, and a crawlspace underneath, which is packed earth. I start digging.
Light blinds my eyes. A flame. A face with large green damp eyes looking desperate. Why is there a face in the dark with me?
A voice speaks English. I can speak English if I have to. Do I have to?
It's as good a language as any, I guess.
Concern for me and - from me? For the face? Why??
I must keep digging.
The voice in English begging. A heart string being plucked. Explanations being demanded.
“I don’t have words to explain.
I must away. Must. You too – you must run…”
“I can’t –“ the face cries. “I won’t – never – please, Armand…”
The name rings a bell. It’s a name spoken with love in that accent. And there is love - here? In me? In the void?
Inconceivable. But there might be, at some point.
“If I’m not back in time, dig for me. Bring blood. Probably not your own.”
I find myself lying on the floor of our hotel room while you mutter to yourself. Am I trapped in a nightmare? Or an acid trip? It doesn't feel like either - more like the world as I know it has gone insane.
Well not the entire world - just the most important part! It feels like the very foundation of my life has cracked. Which is the second scariest thing I've encountered in a very long time... of course the scariest thing was you when you wanted to kill me.
Now you just seem... well, crazy.
But you can't just have gone crazy in a couple of hours! Unless you were dropping acid?? That seems highly unlikely.
Do vampires just randomly go crazy sometimes? And then - what makes them return to normal?? Fuck me, I can't even ask one - I wouldn't know the first place to find one at home let alone in Cairo...
When I plead with you for about the fiftieth time to come out from under the bed - this time you listen. Oh thank god - wait - where are you going!!
Armand?!
I'm rushing after you down the hall, down the stairs, across the lobby, to another set of stairs - and - how did you even know about this area of the hotel?
"Why are we in the basement, Armand??"
No answer. Just more muttering as you go into the dark cavernous room searching for something, and suddenly you find a trapdoor and I watch with increasing horror as you climb in and start digging.
"Armand what are you doing? Did you leave something here the last time??"
Why are you doing this! Why are you saying you have to go?
I'm begging you to stop, pleading with you to talk with me -
oh god, this is hell - we're in fucking hell -
My mind is desperately searching for explanations. You said you would have to go away at times on 'vampire business' but surely this isn't what you meant? What about the last time - you disappeared and returned covered in dust and grime, like a feral version of yourself - is this the same thing??
but what am I supposed to do - just leave you here in the dirt and go sightseeing in Egypt? And return one day with blood??
"Armand you promised you wouldn't abandon me! Why are you-" I start and then burst into tears. " You promised!"
Irritant human whining, arguing - irrelevant.
Blood throbbing - I want the blood; I should take the blood -
but there is something - the blood is no good? No, the blood is very good.
But I need - something. Need the human?
Nonsense. Why would I need a human.
But - he is useful. If I sleep - if I sleep too long -
Eternity in darkness -
The part of the mind that can do logic and language is getting smaller and smaller.
"Human... boy."
"Armand?"
"The moon is waning. When it wanes again, come and bring a human. Wake me with the blood. Not before then. The - might be feral. No - ratio. Now go before - it's danger."
"What?! Armand! No! You can't leave me alone! Armand, please!"
Is *argue* with *monster*!?
"*Leave*!!" The face falls backwards, the flame goes out. I dig further. Nearly there.
Light and noise again, stabbing my brain.
I snarl, lashing out with my hand, though the by now tiny section of my brain makes sure I don't connect with nails because the blood - might be too much -
"*OUT.*"
The flame goes out again and the door opens, he leaves.
Darkness.
Earth onto my body. Harder. Heavier. Deeper. Press on earth.
Gone. Buried.
Dark.
Gone.
I back out of the basement, horrified at the sheer insanity that just transpired. What the fuck Armand!!
My back bumps into a wall. I slide down and hit the cold concrete floor with a thump. I realize my body is cold and shaking - and then it begins to unleash a torrent of sobbing.
I don't - understand -
WHY? HOW??
Daniel.
What??
Think.
Think?! How am I supposed to think when Armand is suddenly acting like a monster, he's in a fucking hole in the ground - and - and he didn't even recognize me! He called me Boy!!
Right. Are you an investigative journalist or aren't you?
What?? What the fuck does that have to do with anything? How could he do this to me!!
Less reacting, please. If this was something you were investigating, where would you start?
What do you mean, less reacting? How could I not react!
Because it's not helping you and it's not helping him.
My sobbing recedes and I listen as I breathe shakily in the darkness.
Now we're getting somewhere. Where do you start, Danny boy?
Where do I - Fuck! I don't know I don't know!
What do you do when you don't know?
I start - with questions.
I'm waiting.
I sigh heavily. My hands drop from my eyes and I bang my head against the wall - once and then several times more. I grimace and wipe my eyes.
Right.
Why did this happen?
When did this happen? (Why here and why now??)
How can I reach him?
and, the big question I really don't want to ask - Is he dangerous to me??
And if he IS too dangerous for me to go back in there - what's the alternative??
And the gentleman gets a prize!
I curse in the darkness. I wish I had a paper and pen to work this all out but I can't leave!
Well then I guess you'll have to work this out in your mind - good thing you didn't destroy ALL your brain cells, huh Danny?
OK - I can do this -
I imagine a white page in front of me with the first question.
Why. The Fuck. Did. This. Happen.
Oblivion is both desired and terrible. It's what I want most of all - complete vanishing - never having existed, ideally, but ceasing to exist, definitely.
But there's the fear - the terror. What if death is not the end to consciousness, just the end to activity? What if death is centuries of existence - but without the body to occasionally offer diversion?
I have never taken the long sleep for that same reason. The fear of slipping into death, or the nearest thing, or something even nearer than my everyday existence.
This sleep will not be long. Not years, or centuries.
But it's needed because the mind is going. I heard the mind would go, if there was no long sleep. I thought I could keep it at bay.
Why now?
No knowledge.
No thoughts either. Occasionally. A glimpse, a stray notion, floating through the dark, into the dark.
Pain is still there, but the earth helps. It helps.
If only I'd dug deeper.
I cover my face with a hand, rocking back and forth as I think.
OK. As to 'why the fuck this happened', here's what I know:
- you said as a vampire sometimes you need time away
- the last time you went away for weeks, you came back dusty and grimy - you were feral, and you left in a flurry. You seemed agitated, like - you were afraid you might hurt me? drink too much blood?
- so it seems like you were resting somewhere dusty and dirty - if not buried in literal dirt, then at least hiding in a dusty space underground somewhere.
And being in this state, when you come out you're feral and needing blood. Not in control of yourself.
You didn't go into great detail about it, but I take it this is something vampires do sometimes? Or need to do? A bit disconcerting - but not out of the ordinary?
My hand drops from my face and my rocking slowly comes to a stop.
OK - standard behaviour for vampires every once in a while? Great. But that brings me to my next question. When did this start? Why here? Why now?
You just did this not too long ago, and - before that we were together for so long without you disappearing and turning into a snarling creature.
Is it about being in Egypt? You said it had been a while since you were here last - but you didn't imply that anything negative happened here, or express any concern about how it might affect you.
Here's what I know:
- it started sometime after I left the hotel. I was only gone a few hours, so it happened relatively quickly.
Did you seem any different when I woke up?
- you seemed like yourself. You were more than amenable to me fucking you - and you seemed lazy and content after. Very lazy - tired even. Huh.
- I was all excited about going out, making a list of things to do -
You expressed that the sun would be too much for you -
not a good time for vampires, Daniel -
- you seemed - a bit sad. I even asked if something was wrong - pressed you when you denied it.
it's very sunny here, it makes me dozy, even with the curtains closed -
Is it the sun in Egypt that did this to you? Does daytime affect you here more than in other places? But you've been here before - you didn't say it was an issue for you...
- you were very encouraging of me going out to enjoy the sights, and then coming out with me when it was dark.
You smiled, kissed me back. But something wasn't right. I knew it even then.
... I don't think it was about being in Egypt - it was your idea to travel here. And you didn't tell me it was a possibility the sun would have this effect on you. So it seemed to take you by surprise.
OK so that covers 'why here?' (Unless of course there's some factor that I'm not aware about - insert trope of a dark entity in the desert or an ancient curse unleashed - more supernatural shit I would have no way of knowing about. Put a pin in it for now.)
That brings us to 'why now?'
- it didn't happen a few days into our trip. It happened relatively soon after we arrived...
is it related to the trip? But - you followed me all over Europe. But then, you were stalking me - I didn't see what you were like. You would just pop up when I least expected it. I've never actually travelled with you until now... did you do anything different when you travelled with me?
That seems like a good lead. Unfortunately the one person who could verify the information for me is in the fucking ground at the moment...
And oh yeah that brings me to my next question!
How can I reach him? Or is he too dangerous to try??
Well based on fucking everything that happened - complete with snarling and swiping in my direction with sharp nails - I don't relish the thought of going back into that room and digging you out - because the worst thing was that you barely seemed aware of who I was - I wasn't your love, I wasn't even Daniel, I was just a human -
Boy. Again.
I let out a whimper. If I was crying and pleading and it didn't touch you - I have no idea what would mean enough to reach you - if indeed anything could.
Final question for this moment -
What the fuck do I do??
More pain - not from me?
Who else is here?
Demons... dead. Duat...
No. Blood. Pain through the blood.
How? Blood is inside...
and outside. Outside blood hurts us.
Blood is outside me? Because?
Love.
Love? Demons don't love...
Lust then.
Pain from - separation, loneliness, confusion.
Nothing lethal. The blood will live.
There are sounds in the dark... sounds that travel through the ground, through the ether.
No peace even in the grave, is that it...?
But - if there were none, would I disappear? If a vampire lies in a grave and doesn't hear, doesn't see - does he still exist?
Was the divine Cow the first vampire?
Gods are not the same species as humans though... but neither are vampires?
Are gods born from humans too?
Has God got rid of the Egyptian gods? Or are they still around? Are they what are called idols? So what's their relationship to God?
What about the Indian gods?
I never knew them... But did they know me?
Interesting how you can still feel the dark even in the dark...
I stare at the door, feeling like I've been cleaved in two. Half of me is here, collapsed against the floor, tears dripping onto the cold cement. The other half of me is buried underground. Are you still muttering to yourself - or have you gone to sleep? Do you dream in this state, Armand? Do you dream of me? Do you even remember who I am??
Suddenly I'm consumed with the urge to run to you, dig you out, demand that you stop this - just STOP - then I hear your voice again, the last things you said to me -
"Leave!!"
"OUT."
My eyes squeeze shut and I whimper again. You're always so gentle with me - so loving - how could you speak this way to me??
What if - telling you to get away from him was his way of being gentle and loving when he's in this state?
The thought is quiet but it has the effect of a grenade in my chest. My heart is pounding so painfully - can you hear it where you are, hiding in the earth?
My eyes open slowly. You did say - Go before - it's danger.
...
As in... the danger is you. And maybe you're asleep - or maybe you're not.
It's not safe here... it's not safe for you.
I swallow hard. But I can't just leave you here! What am I supposed to do??
...
He told you what to do. When the moon is waning, wake him with blood.
Jesus. Where am I supposed to get-?
That's a question for the waning moon. Get up, Daniel - before it's too late.
I get up shakily, leaning against the wall. I stare at the door again. Surely you wouldn't-?
For the first time in a long time, I feel fear - trembling through me like a dark fissure. I always know it's a risk being with a vampire - one I'm more than willing to take. Yes there's a primal fear present in our darker interactions. Armand, predator. Daniel, prey. That's part of the thrill, I can admit that...
But in this moment, there's nothing thrilling about what you might do when you're not yourself - not just because I don't want to die in a cold basement in Cairo. But because of what it would do to you, if you kill me.
Because I don't think you'd survive that...
And I can't let you go through that, baby...
Are you still here Daniel - sitting in the dark with your pounding heart?
I pause. Was that my thought?? Or-?
I step away from the wall - away from that grey trap door with the peeling paint that's looking more and more like something from a horror movie -
One foot in front of the other, Daniel... faster... but don't run.
And don't look back.
Chapter 5: Waning Moon
Chapter Text
Time doesn't exist, which is good odd frightening. Thoughts exist occasionally, but they are ships passing.
Pain is a constant, but if you don't think about pain it doesn't exist so much.
There is the occasional flash of terror of death. But that passes too. I don't know if it takes long or not.
Who is the I who does the thinking? Isn't that a Descartes thing? Jean Paul mentioned him... but I wasn't really paying attention. Something about how we only know we exist because we think. So what happens if I stop thinking? I don't think (hah) I asked him.
There are sounds of animals... rats, probably. They won't come near - interesting how rats don't come towards vampires’ bodies. Like they know we're dead but still dangerous.
Have I been here five minutes or five months? Or five centuries? Does it matter?
There was something important I left behind though wasn't there?
Why doesn't my body decay? Why doesn't it meld with the earth like it was supposed to? Why is there consciousness?
Consciousness stop...
Slower...
Better.
The first day I don’t even pretend to try and cope - I just get drunk in my - our hotel room. And then very drunk. And then blackout drunk.
The second day I go out to find a calendar with moon phases - because what the fuck do I know about when the waning moon is??
Well now I have very specific information, down to the minute! - I have just under a month to wait - and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do to bring you blood. I’d just give you my blood, but you said to bring someone - that means you’re planning to drain them.
So I have to bring you someone to drain.
Jesus.
No time to be squeamish, Danny boy! You want to be a vampire - *don’t you*?
…yes.
Yes of course.
Well how is this any different.
It’s -
not?
Ding ding ding! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!
Fuck - alright. So this is like - training to be a vampire. Learning how to relax my morals to ease my transition from human to vampire. And once you see that I managed to do it without falling to pieces - and that I can still be the same warm loving soul-having man you love - then maybe that will prove that I’m ready.
I imagine us draining someone together… and walking off together arm in arm, into the night - and it’s beautiful.
You still want it, Danny?
Yes I still want to be with him forever! More than ever! But what do I do for a month - see the sights?? Start scoping out potential sources of blood?
I do neither - I get drunk again. And again. And again.
Stepping outside of the hotel here and there to get food and visit some historical sites in a haunted daze, before retreating to my room again to drink.
Until a few days before the waning moon. Then my work begins.
Somehow even deep in the earth I know the rhythms of the moon. I always have, even when I stayed underground for a long time. I can feel it growing to full, somewhere in my being. Is it the blood that swells and wanes with the light?
There are some urges when I feel it strongest - the urge to dig out and hunt and drink drink drink - so thirsty -
and the urge to dig deeper and disappear forever.
Why can’t I disappear? Why must I persevere on and on and on?
I am so tired… I don’t want this. I never wanted this.
Go deeper? Am I too close to the surface? Should I keep digging till I get to the centre of the earth, which they say is a fire? I wonder if there is light? How can there be fire without air?
The pull of the moon is less. The pull of the darkness increases. Eternal darkness… why did I ever fear this? It will be like a sleep without a dream…
I settle into a routine - scoping out tourist traps - how aptly named! - getting friendly in bars, restaurants, cafes… You’re the one who helped me see how charming I can be when I want something- especially when I really really want something - trust a broke, reckless, recreational junkie who gets into trouble at the drop of a hat to learn this skill fast. I’m sure it’s the only reason I’m still alive.
I know I’ve expressed to you countless times that we were destined in the stars to be together - and maybe that’s true if such things happen - but deep down I also know - if anyone could intrigue a furious vengeful vampire and drive off imminent death by minutes at a time - until minutes beget hours - hours beget days - days beget weeks – months – years -
It’s me. Daniel “tell me your story” Molloy.
Tell me your story.
I want to hear it.
It needs to be told…
I’ve said this in one way or another countless times… It’s not until the last few days I’ve realized - it’s not just useful for saving my hide. It can also be used as a honey trap. A sticky web. Steel jaws waiting hungrily under a blanket of vibrant autumn leaves…
Today I make yet another connection. Do an interview. Then I offer my services as a tour guide to the hidden places in Cairo - places not found in guidebooks. Away from tour groups and buses full of sunburnt tourists. People seem intrigued, and say they’ll contact me. I sow many seeds of intrigue - and wait for one to sprout - because that’s all I need -
just – one – seed -
Finally I meet the one - a willing target who agrees right away. It was just a matter of time. A university student studying Egyptology. He has finished a trip with his professor and cohort and stayed on in Cairo for a few days - to check out the scene. I know immediately from the look in his eyes - he means drug dens. Of course he does. Like calls to like. Of course I can show you, precious boy - addle your brain with opium and then –
Descend into the darkness to show the secrets you crave.
Awareness is so unwelcome. But something needs my attention.
My body and mind are adamant on survival, protection... why?
Because I fear death more than anything... still.
Noise spears my brain.
Light - nearly imperceptible but there is light, lighter, lighter - my eyes even closed resenting the intrusion.
Muscles contracting, ready to kill the intruder. Who'd dig up a vampire's grave? Are there no prohibitions, taboos, superstitions? Why can't I be left in peace?
Then the scent -
*blood* -
Blood so very close, blood out in the open, exposed to air, not inside veins -
blood on the earth, trickling its way towards me -
the thud of every drop as it hits the ground -
The earth shifts as I am pulled towards the blood like an iron filing to a strong magnet - blood on the earth, young blood, living blood -
Light so bright it stabs my eyes - a face above a neck around a vein throbbing with blood -
Skin giving way like rice paper -
*blood* -
A young life - an American life -
*no* -
... why not?
So good...
flowing into me, the life, the blood, the essence - love, loss, desire, learning, a sunset with a love, ice cream on a hot beach, an encounter with a mountain lion -
the blood slightly dozy from something - a substance - doesn't matter, it's the life, the life...
The life so small, so short. And now gone...
The body drops. There's another body, full of blood -
Green eyes -
Young American life -
there was something?
Heart beating hard -
a hot feeling -
I can feel my mouth snarling, my teeth itching.
The body retreating, eyes large, the scent of fear -
the body -
the boy -
... "Daniel?"
It wasn’t as hard as I thought - luring the human to the basement. Opium in his system making him so pliant - dilated pupils taking everything in like a dream - thankfully he’s barely conscious by the time I cut his wrist, squeeze, shake it - watch the blood as it rushes to the ground - as if it wants to make its way to you -
Like the human has just been a sacred vessel for the blood, carrying it carefully to the temple -
This is not murder. This is ritual sacrifice - a sacrament.
Armand must live. Armand must return to the land of the living. Armand must return to his love.
I was worried about how it would feel in the moment - but when I see the small mound of earth it could not be more clear to me what needs to be done.
You cannot remain here. This blood is what will bring you back.
I watch as the ground begins to stir slowly - and then you erupt and pounce like a cat - affixing yourself to his throat, tearing through flesh, drinking deep -
I watch in fascination as you drain the boy dry - throw him aside –
and then -
Oh - shit - you’re not done! Will I be part of the sacrifice too??
I don’t even mind dying for love - but - I think the grief and guilt might kill you, baby!
I back away slowly - trying not to seem like frightened prey -
And then - the sound of my name on your lips - !!!
“Armand! Baby!” I say, tears springing to my eyes. I want to throw myself against you but something stops me - I start to shake from want -
longing to wrap my arms around your body and - not - let – go -
But I don’t move closer - not yet. “Should I bring you another human??”
Daniel...
Where have you been?!
I have missed you...
Another human?
No - I only need you -
Am I still snarling? I pull my mouth, push my fangs with my tongue - I am dirty - but surely you won't mind...
I walk towards you and you tentatively put up your arms -
I fall in them.
We hug, holding each other - Daniel -
I am clutching you like you are the only thing keeping me upright -
and you are -
you *are* -
I feel very - weird -
I haven't died enough -
The blood -
poisoned?!
No -
well yes -
but -
you gave the guy stuff so he'd be pliant. In his blood. Not poison, just -
soporific -
you are so beautiful -
"Daniel..."
Your eyes like twin seas I can swim in and release all my tension...
I can walk? I think I can walk.
I must can walk. I just - forgot.
"How do I walk?"
My body and mind are battered by biochemical chaos - storm fronts of emotions, building and receding, as you advance towards me, looking murderous –
panic, fear -
And then - your face so filled with longing –
desperation, relief, elation (guilt guilt guilt) -
Then you're finally in my arms!!
bliss!!! -
Wait - what are you asking??
"How do you-?"
I pull back to look at you, realizing tears have been streaming down my cheeks. But you did walk, Armand! Well technically just a few steps before you fell against me - now I'm holding you up as if you were -
ohhh -
Fuck.
"Opium-" I say under my breath, and then louder to you - "There was opium in his blood - I'm so sorry! I had to get the guy fucked up to get him down here - you're just high, Armand!" I say, stating the totally fucking obvious as you gaze at me like the most fascinating thing in the world -
"Hi Armand!" you repeat and wave at me with a big grin. And then you're leaning against me again, giggling helplessly.
Oh god -
"Baby - I'm so happy to see you too," I say, sniffling. "But I need to hide this body somewhere for now - and get you back upstairs to the hotel room - can you walk if I help you?"
"I'm so happy to see you as well - it's been *so longggg*..."
How long have I been saying long?
Am I still saying long?
I'm not, am I?
"Armand - Armand, my love, can you sit here for a moment?"
Can I sit? Of course I can sit. Silly human.
I plunk onto my bum on the sand, look at you. You're floating - I didn't know you could do that. I sit and smile at you - that seems a good thing to do. You asked me to sit, so I am sitting, and you like making me happy, so I show you I am happy.
You drag the empty body to the grave - no wait, that's *my* grave -
but then I don't need it right now do I?
I guess not... you said there is a hotel room? That will do as well I guess.
You're digging at the dirt with your hands, but you're not very good at it. I should really help... but you didn't explain to me how walking works yet. So I crawl nearer, dig down till I get to the depth I was earlier. By then I'm upside down in the ground which is quite funny - why haven't I done this before?
"Daniel! Come upside down as well!"
Not for the first time this month, I find myself wondering if I'm dreaming or high as fuck. Because I'm currently in the basement of a fancy hotel, covered in dirt -
with a giggling vampire digging a grave for the victim I brought him -
disappearing into it with a fit of laughter - and inviting me in to join him.
Maybe I should join him- because after the month I've had, crawling into the earth and going to sleep sounds fucking great - infinitely preferable to burying a corpse and guiding a vampire who's high on opium through a hotel -
and then when you come down from your high, what will you be like Armand??
...yeah I'm definitely awake.
Somehow I convince you this is not the time for rolling around in a grave - but we may as well leave the body of this nice man who donated his blood right here in the spot you dug for him. You pout for just a moment before agreeing this seems like a lovely spot for the nice man. Then it's just the small matter of covering him up and replacing all the dirt. I'm perspiring by the time we finish - you were somewhat helpful although you did find it fun to pack dirt into spheres - and then make the sound of shells launching from mortars and exploding as you threw them against the wall.
You were also very disappointed when you invited me to have a dirtball fight and I declined.
When the grave is covered, I'm more than ready to get out of here. I touch your face and smile encouragingly.
"We're all done here, baby - we're going to the hotel room now. We'll have a lovely warm shower and get into some fresh clothes. Do you need to lean on me?"
"NNNooo, I need to know how walking works," I pout. It's not fair - everyone can walk and not me just because you won't explain to me how?
"You - you can walk, Armand - just - OK just get up..."
You help me up and point out how to move my legs. It does actually make perfect sense when you explain it.
I watch one leg move, then my body, then the other leg - wow. It works! I am going forward! At quite a pace! What a wonderful discovery! How clever you are!
You are keen to go - open the trap door, push me up the ladder, follow me into a vault.
"Oh! Daniel, what a lovely place! So nice and cool and peaceful... what a great space."
I sit down on a wooden crate, lie back, staring at the ceiling - arches and arches and arches...
But you're not happy yet. You want to go *yet* somewhere else... but we just went somewhere else! How many elsewheres do you have?
"Come, Armand... we need to go to the room..."
"But this is a room? It's a perfectly nice room. I don't want to keep changing rooms."
"No - Armand, sweetheart, this isn't *our* room. We need to go to our room. It's even nicer! It has a lovely soft bed, and a warm shower, and - and a very large bath! I'll wash you clean, and then we can lie in the bed... or do whatever you want! Alright baby?"
I wave at you. "We will do that later. Now I like this room."
"We can't stay here," you say, your voice sounding high-pitched. "If someone comes in..."
"Who would come into the room of a vampire at night? Well - you. But other people are less stupid, I've found."
"Armand - please - we can't stay here. It's not safe."
How can it not be safe? There are no other vampires about. And humans aren't dangerous. Though I guess that depends on how many...
You're pulling at my arm. "Armand, come on. Please."
Ugh.
"If I come to the room, will you stop pulling at me?"
"I will. I promise. You can lie on the bed all covered in dirt if you want - or in the bath - wherever - but in the room. Alright?"
I let myself be coaxed upright and starting walking is easier when you're already at the right height. You lead me to stairs which are a bit harder but the trick is to lift your leg before moving it forward, and then to push your weight up. What an amazing invention! You go forward, but you go up at the same time!
I want to go down the stairs to experience that as well, but you are holding on to me and pulling me along, babbling that we must avoid seeing people because I am covered in dirt. Well, Egypt has a lot of dirt. In fact most of the country is sand. Why would anyone find it suspicious? No, indeed, this is not *sand* on my clothes; what are you, a geologist? I found a wet patch. The Nile is notorious for irrigating the soil next to it and we are *right* next to it, you can hear it if you -
You put a key in a lock and open a door, lead me through, lock it behind you with a sigh of relief.
I stare at you stretched out on the crate, smiling up at the ceiling as if you're looking at the stars - and still not wanting to leave the basement.
oh my god oh my god Armand! Why are you making this so difficult?!
Yes I know why - it's not like I'd be clear-headed either if I were on an opium high - wistfully I think back to the drug den I took the guy to. I told him I was taking a break from getting high but I would make sure he got back to the hotel safely -
well technically I did - but guilt is still rearing up occasionally and reminding me of what I did. Not that it was a difficult choice - between Armand and any other human, I will always choose Armand.
Somehow I manage to convince you to leave the basement - god you're just not getting why it's important to get away from here! Not only are you covered in dirt but you look high as a kite - and oh yeah I have no idea yet if you've returned to your normal self after a month in a fucking grave! Or if you're feeling the effects after that - that - what was that, Armand??
God what a fucked up hellish nightmare this has been!! We'll have to figure that out but now is not the time, when I'm trying to shepherd a drugged-out giggling vampire across the hotel without being noticed.
Once I've reminded you how to walk up stairs (!!) - and deterred you from going right back down the stairs (!!!) - somehow we return without incident to the hotel room. I sink down onto the floor, stunned - my heart is pounding, my breathing is fast and irregular, and for a moment I think I'm going to hyperventilate -
but I can't lose it, not yet - you need to be taken care of, watched over -
You're looking at me and sit down next to me, pulling your knees up to your chest.
"This is a nice floor," you inform me. "Look, Daniel -" and then you take my hand to press it to the tiles.
I smile, tears filling my eyes. "It's a very nice floor, you're right."
You stare at the patterned tiles, chuckling. "The floor is telling a story, did you know?"
"What's the story, baby?" I raise your hand to mine to kiss it. I should run a bath - you're filthy. But it feels good to just rest for a moment - just a moment longer.
"There's been a mishap. It's left blood on the walls and someone wrote the hieroglyphs for the sun - and there's a feather. I believe it's - Shu." You nod to yourself as you gaze at the tiles.
"What's ‘shu’?” I sniffle. I touch the back of your hand to my tears, before stroking the skin and breathing in your scent.
You fall against me, dissolving into laughter. "Not 'what' - silly Daniel. Shu is a ‘who’- whooo! The god of air!" you say, before making the sound of strong wind and moving the fingers of your free hand as if to imply something magical is happening. "Now pay attention - the crocodiles have risen in revolt against the government and chaos has ensued. But don't worry - the scarabs don't wish to involve themselves and they're having tea," you say, looking pleased.
I wipe my eyes, laughing as I hold you against my chest. "Clever scarabs. I choose tea over chaos too, baby.”
You are not taking me seriously. But there is something in what I just said. Something important. Something I need to think about.
The only issue is that I can't for the life of me remember what I just said. I try to think about it but you are talking with me again...
Bath?
That's a place in England isn't it? Only they pronounce it Baaaahth. You say bèèèèth like a sheep.
You also have curly hair like a sheep - are you a sheep Daniel?
"Say that again?"
"Would you like to take a bath? Shall I draw the bath?"
I giggle. Bèèèèèèh... when you're old your hair will be still curly but it will be white... unless you lose it. No, you must not lose your hair. I love its curls. I reach out my hand and stroke them. "Il mio agnello..."
"I'm drawing a bath, alright, Armand? You want to come into the bathroom?"
What is it with you and going to different rooms? I am about to say no when you open a door and oh, the room with the bath is right there. I remember how pleasant it felt - OK then. It will be nice to sit in warm water and be clean again...
I'm feeling so good...
I bet that's because of you.
"Mi fai sentire così bene, Daniel..." I say, then realize that sounds wrong. "Tu me fais..." No. "Tam bene-"
NO!
"Armand? What are you saying?"
"Saying. Sayyyyy-ing." I taste the words, try to sense my tongue around them.
"Saying. You - yes!" That's the right one. "You."
I forgot what I was going to say.
"Let's have a bèèèèèèèèth," I say. You help me up and we walk into the room, which is gorgeous, so many beautiful tiles - they must have cost a fortune.
I stand and stare at one of them which has a fish looking back at me. The next one has a curled-up snake. The next has a filthy vampire - a mirror. Yes - no wonder you want me in the bèèèèth.
You help me undress but then take me away from the bath - huh - but warm water soon cascades over me and takes so much dirt with it that a miniature Nile delta forms on the floor.
What is that you’re speaking - Italian? Why do I feel like I’m wheedling an easily spooked cat?
And now you’re back to English - while being high and weird. Which I normally enjoy but honestly Armand after the month I’ve had - and the last few hours of insanity - oh god - I’m at the end of my fucking rope -
Oh! You want a bath!! Yes!! Success!!
I have no idea why you sound like a sheep when you say it - and I really don’t need to know -
Oh god - don’t look at yourself in the mirror yet - wait until you look like yourself again -
Here we go - shower first - good - yes - enjoying the water - perfect.
“Where did all the dirt come from?” you ask me pleasantly. “A purveyor of soil?”
“A purveyor of soil-“ I repeat, and grab a loofah and soap. I’m going to have to ask the hotel for another one aren’t I. “No this came from being in the basement, Armand. But we’re done with that, yeah? It’s nice up here with me, isn’t it…“ I begin to bathe you and you seem to be enjoying it immensely. Thank christ.
It takes a lot of washing before I can even deal with my own dirty hair and skin. But eventually I get us both clean and I sigh with relief when I finally turn off the water. I’ll have to deal with the floor of the shower later.
For now I carefully guide you into the bath and join you in the nice piping hot water. You lean back against the edge, and your head falls back with a pleased sound.
“Good, right?” I say softly.
The hot water is soothing in a way that I didn’t know I needed - now that I'm here I’m not sure if I want to cry or fall asleep or sink under the water. But I still need to keep a close eye on you - I won’t know how you are until the opium is out of your system.
Will you need more blood?
Could that *incident* happen again??
Oh god - I can’t even think about that right now!!
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” I ask cautiously and stroke your cheek.
"Feeling sweet heart..." I agree, as I stroke you. You feel so soft and smooth under the water... your skin is a sensation, did you know that, Daniel?
I get closer, so I can touch more of you. It's all so soft and so warm! And it's not just warm because of the water... it's warm all over, inside and out. I can feel the blood pulsing through your body, feel the throbs of your heart, pushing it, pulsing it...
For a long time I just sit there feeling everything, taking it all in. The scent of your wet hair, freshly shampooed with the hotel's provided product. Your soft soft skin everywhere - under my legs, under my arms, under my hands, which can't stop stroking to feel the smoothness and the wetness. The stubble of your chin on my shoulder and neck - didn't I just shave you?
No, that was - before the grave.
Why did I go into the grave?
Can't remember... silly idea. You feel so much better than the cold earth.
Your mouth mumbles against my neck, "Is there anything you need, baby?"
Baby? Why do you call me *baby*? Or are you asking if I need a baby? No - no I don't drink babies, no matter how good they smell - the blood so pure and fresh and new - but they have so much potential for life, it would be so horrible to cut that short -
*I did it in Paris*
That was a long time ago.
*Does it matter?*
Of course not... But I am irrevocably damned regardless.
It doesn't feel so bad at the moment...
I lick the sweat from your neck, then the water where you got wet, then follow the flesh labyrinth of your ear until you giggle and squeeze your shoulder to prevent my access.
Eventually we get out and you dry me off with a most deliciously luxuriant towel. I am so tempted to keep it so I can keep touching it, but then you give me an entire robe made of the same material that you wrap around me so I'm covered in it, then lead me back into the other room and sit me on the bed.
I lie back onto its heavenly softness and look up at your face.
"You're beautiful, Daniel..."
God you’re so wasted - your pupils are practically animated spirals - but at least you're settled and peaceful now. A bath was the perfect thing. You seem dreamy and transfixed by everything, especially me - but you also have moments where you seem to be a million miles away -
I'm afraid to ask what you're thinking -
but then you're licking me from my neck to my ear and it feels so sensitive and so good - god I missed you Armand -
Moments later we're wearing luxurious bathrobes and you're stretching out on the huge bed - gazing up at me longingly -
When did this become my life? It still feels surreal after a year! But I was afraid it could be lost to me forever when you crawled into a hole in the ground -
Now you're here again - here with me - telling me I'm beautiful -
"Me?" I say softly. You're the most beautiful being in all creation - how someone like you could find beauty in me I have no idea...
"I've never seen such a beautiful sight... I missed you, Armand - so much..." I want to beg you not to leave me again - but I can't - I don't know how you'll react - I have to wait to see if you're yourself again...
"Do you need anything, sweetheart?" I feel like I've asked you a dozen times - but at this moment you seem to have the attention span of a cartoon drifter who's spotted a pie cooling on a windowsill. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I say, grinning despite myself.
"I need you, Danny."
I really do.
I feel so good, so soft, so warm... and it's all you. All you...
You come into my arms and we hold each other. I feel myself drifting, which is odd; I've just slept so long... but it wasn't sleep, per se, just like this isn't sleep, and it's not my usual trance state - you mentioned opium, said I'm high? If this is high, I want to be high all the time... only eat the opium-eater would be a great Great Law.
You try talking some times, and so do I, but it seems we're not talking about the same things at the same time, and eventually you stop altogether, just lying limply in my arms.
You look different, even after a month. There are some lines that are deeper, your stubble is longer than you usually let it grow, your face ruddy, your arms are sunburnt but healing. There are so many things that can happen to a human body, face, skin, that just - linger, and sometimes stay.
I spend aeons adrift between you and other worlds, tracing landscapes on your skin, hills, oases, wadis, dunes, dense forests, in which intrepid adventurers get lost.
When the light comes, it is gentler than I feared. The curtains are thick velvet and a portico prevents the sun from hitting our shuttered windows directly. It is not invasive and harsh as I remember. It's fine to lie here with your features growing more and more intensely colourful in the growing light. I wish I could paint...
... where did that thought come from. I don't paint.
Danny?
You never call me that.
Aw...
You gazing at me so softly, then burrowing against me - and actually sleeping a bit! - is so lovely and sweet - after the month I had, it's everything I need.
Everything.
It's also overwhelming because I have no idea what happened and I'm so afraid Armand - so afraid - and I find myself weeping quietly while you sleep.
I don't want you to have to deal with this while you're high so I manage to get myself to stop and dry my tears on the sheets.
When you wake up all traces of crying are gone, thankfully. I try to check in about how you're doing and when you'll need blood again - but you're still impossible to converse with. It's actually amazing I got you to agree to return to the room, so it could be a hundred times worse. A thousand times.
I try desperately to not sleep - I need to be watching you, making sure you don't go wandering off or -
god knows what. Fuck.
I do fall asleep a couple of times but I have bizarre dreams and then wake in a panic so it's hardly restful.
Finally I find you awake and staring at the curtains.
"Armand?" I murmur, stroking your hair. "How are you, my love?"
Chapter 6: Bad Company
Chapter Text
I don't want to think, Daniel... I really enjoyed the floating. Can we not go back to floating?
I rub my forehead, trying to somehow get my brain into gear. You drink coffee when you want to do that... I wish there were a coffee for me. Maybe if you drink a lot of it, and I drink some of you... no, I'd probably need to drink way too much.
I force myself to recall yesterday. The weeks before. The day before.
What on *earth* was wrong with me?!
"I... am lucid," I say - best reassure you on that front.
"I feel - alright. A bit - hazy still; probably from the Poppy. I have no idea what happened. This has never happened before..."
Wait - hasn't it?
You say something but I raise my hand for you to be quiet, I need to think -
there was something -
Atlantis?
NO -
"Atlanta," I say out loud.
You look at me but don't interrupt, uncertain whether my thought process needs ongoing silence.
"*That's* what it reminds me of - I had - *something* like this once before, but less strong - it was in Atlanta. I was there to pick up a painting - a Munch, very frail condition, we didn't trust the moving company to handle it with enough care without me there to supervise it - Louis couldn't come, or didn't want to, I don't remember. Usually we'd do these things together. He knows more about modern art than I do. And I was there, alone, and I felt so - strange - very similar to what happened here. I was terrified of the sun, it made me sick, pierced my eyes, my brain, my ears - I wanted to hide, hide in a grave - I found a cemetery with a crypt and stayed there for... a few days? It was less bad than here, like I said. The painting had been moved without me, and it was fine, but Louis was angry.
That was - oh, ten years ago?
And now it's happening again?? And worse?"
I have never heard of this - but then how many ancient vampires have I spoken to?! What if this is what happens? What if this is why they must take the long sleep??
You seem reticent to talk at first which of course makes me panic -
You grimace as you try to focus, and I’m about to tell you that you don’t need to answer if you’re not ready -
But then -
You begin to speak.
Atlanta? What does Atlanta have to do with -
Stay quiet, Daniel…
I listen to your story, feeling your voice steady me - I’ve missed it so much, your mellifluous tone, your graceful presence -
You seem so troubled as you try to suss out what may have driven you into the earth…
My heart is racing. Can I speak??
“Being out in daylight made you need extreme darkness and deep sleep… that makes sense…” I say slowly. “So that may be what you experienced this time?” I frown. “You’ve been to Egypt before and didn’t experience any issues, right? And you weren’t out in daylight… so. What was it about this time that was different?”
"That's what's weird..." I nod. "I don't *enjoy* daylight, especially if it's sunny, but that’s because it may give me a headache or flushed skin. It doesn't make me feel - like I did last - month by now, I guess, or in Atlanta. And like you said - I wasn't even out in daylight; this room is very shady - why was it bothering me so? Last time I was in Egypt we stayed in a similar setup - an apartment with shutters and velvet curtains - and it was fine. We stayed for a few months and there was nothing wrong.
And I've been to Mexico, Guatemala, which are even further south, with no ill effects. It's not even summer; the sun isn't that strong. And I don't have any issues with it now though it was stabbing me from all angles earlier..."
I try to recall the time Louis and I spent here, and there *was* nothing wrong, with either of us. Louis slept in his coffin, I dozed around - it was not darker than this space; and I've been in much lighter places with no trouble.
So if it wasn't the sun... what was it?
"That is - weird," I say, troubled. My heart is still beating so quickly - even though I got you back, and that's everything - the ground underneath us feels so precarious now! Like it could open up at any moment and swallow you whole...
"Armand - when it first happened and I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on - I thought it was so crazy that it happened so soon after we arrived! Even though you'd been to Egypt before without incident. So maybe it's unrelated to the location-?"
It feels weird to be talking instead of throwing my arms around you - and finally falling apart and sobbing about the hell that was my life for the past month - and then telling you how much I love you - and begging you to please never leave me again - even though I know you had no control over what happened - and likely can't control it in the future! Fuck!!
So this is a pretty big fucking concern for me, understanding what happened! Maybe then we'll have a chance at preventing it from happening - ever - ever again.
I do indulge myself in stroking your cheek. Such a small thing but it's a moment of reprieve from the worry that feels like it's chewing my intestines.
"Is there another vampire you could ask about this?" I say urgently.
I look at you with a face that says it all. You look dejected.
I think about what you said - unrelated to the location - that's possible...
So then it's just something that just comes over me, unexpected, unannounced, unprovoked? I –
*Wait a moment -*
*unprovoked? What if...*
*!*
"Daniel - wait - you're right!"
You look up, puzzled, hopeful.
"If it's not the location - what is the thing that connects my arrival in Cairo and Atlanta? You wouldn't know, you weren't there, of course. But - yes - this was the only time - and that was -"
My mind is racing. You are looking at me, impatient, eager -
It *fits* -
"I think - it could be - maybe it was the flying!”
Oh God yes – it fits -
“We - Louis and I - we always flew by night - Louis hates the idea of being transported in a coffin like so much cargo - can't blame him - so any trip we did, we did in stages, even taking a detour to the other hemisphere if required - we weren't in a rush. And when *I* fly - without an aeroplane, I mean - I would never *dream* of doing so by day. Walking in the sun is one thing; rising up into the blue sky to meet it - I don't know if I could *possibly* do it, but I really don't want to try. The mere thought is terrifying. As if I'd rise up into an inferno.
So the *one time* I flew by day - only a bit, only the last hour or so - was when I went to Atlanta -
*and now*."
I rack my brain, but I can't recall any other occasion.
Could that -
I *desperately* want to find a *reason*, an explanation - it was *terrifying* to feel like that and even more terrifying that it could just *happen* at any time, without warning, incapacitating me –
I listen to your thoughts spilling out - my eyes not moving from your face - listening closely to the information streaming towards me.
Oh my god - Armand - did you just make the connection-?! Flying - by day?
You’ve stopped talking - you seem agitated, bewildered -
I don’t want you to push yourself too hard, you’ve just started coming off an opium high - and before that, a month lying catatonic in dirt!
“Armand-“ I say with a reassuring calmness I don’t feel. “I think you’re onto something, baby. When I’m working on a story, I just let the conclusion reveal itself to me - does that make sense? This may sound weird but - what I’ve found is it wants to be revealed, if it’s not being pushed…”
I sit up and lean against the headboard. “So this has only happened to you twice. In centuries. And both times it happened soon after taking a flight during daylight hours. In Atlanta, it was only for an hour - and you ended up in a crypt for days.
The flight to Cairo was - 10.5 hours…” I say slowly.
You blink at me. “Yes – and there was a full day, albeit a short one,“ you say in a whisper.
“OK, I’m not completely ruling out there could possibly be something we haven’t thought of yet - or some variable we couldn’t know-“ I rub my eyes, not wanting to think about it. “But - Armand, that’s sounding pretty fucking plausible to me. Could that be it?”
My heart is beating so quickly again. So all you would need to do is avoid travelling by day? That would mean I don’t need to live in fear and dread that this could happen again??
…
‘God’ - I have no idea if you even exist, and I’ve seen no evidence to support it. Just lots and lots of people doing terrible things in your name for millennia, right? And you’re not exactly a fan of people with my proclivities so I don’t even know why the fuck I’m talking to -
(Oh shit - if this is a prayer, it’s not going very well…)
OK, just -
(Fuck!)
Listen - I’ll do anything for Armand, even if I owe a favour to The Man - even if I never wanted a relationship with a sky daddy...
I’m not sure what you could possibly want from me but -
Please - please let that be the answer we’re looking for…
You're projecting your thoughts so I tune in - I can't help it, it's natural, like extending your hand if someone holds out theirs -
and you're talking to *God*?!
and - starting by telling him off?!
That is *so* you...
I love you *so* much -
I try to restrain myself but then I just start to laugh. You look at me puzzled, and a bit hesitant, as if you're not sure if I'm going mental again -
"Don't worry Beloved - I'm sorry," I giggle. "I couldn't help but overhear what you said - you were projecting, which makes sense, you were trying to be heard - by God - but - starting with telling him you're not sure he's real and if he is he's doing a terrible job -"
I burst out laughing again at the memory of the indignation in your tone. How *dare* God disappoint the expectations of one Daniel Molloy...
You look baffled for a second, then laugh with me, and it's only now that I feel freed from the heaviness that has been pressing on me since soon after we arrived, it's only now that I feel - light - a feather dancing in the breeze of our laughter.
There was something about a feather? When I was high?
Was that the Egyptian gods trying to tell me about what was going on with me? Or my subconscious?
Or - have I not connected the dots at all and was the flying just a coincidence? Is my mind *actually* going? Why do I think I'm the one vampire who never needs the long sleep? Why *do* the old ones do it?
Because otherwise they go mad?
What if it *is* a natural progression and next time... next time I won't even have the tiny bit of lucidity that I had left by the end? What if I kill you?
Oh Daniel...
We're still laughing; you haven't seen my concerns - I'm good at not showing my emotions, though with you it's harder than with anyone else, paradoxically. A sprig of a boy who's not a mind reader...
I pull you against me fondly.
"I've missed you. Thank you for coming back for me."
One moment I’m making a desperate attempt at a prayer (an unexpectedly angry one!) - and the next, I’m giggling helplessly with you -
After all the stress of today -
God, after the torture of this month! -
I feel - not fully anchored into this moment- Like it’s all going to fly apart in different directions! - and then where will I be?? My mind feels like it’s been squeezed and squeezed from the pressure of trying to keep everything from falling apart - for so long -
What if it’s been pushed beyond its capacity to recover - but that can’t be true can it? Minds are - resilient? I just need some time. You need some time. Right?
We’ll be ok… we have to be…
Then you pull me towards you - tell me you’ve missed me – and -
“Thank you?” I repeat faintly. “Like it was even a question in my mind? You’re a very silly vampire…“
Such a playful thing to say that belies what I feel in this moment…
What I’m really saying is,
There’s nothing that would stop me from coming for you, wherever you are.
I will always come back to you.
My hands move to your face and I kiss you -
I’m not sure if it will feel different. You’ve been away from me for a month, god knows what that experience in the ground was like for you. My lips move against yours searchingly - seeking answers to questions I don’t yet know how to form.
Your lips are responding to mine - and they seem to be saying, simply - I’m here. Beloved, I’m here.
“I love you,” I whisper, and kiss you again more deeply.
I can feel it...
I want to melt, I want to meld, mould myself to you...
"Daniel..." I whisper against the pillow, because it just feels so wrong to ask something for myself - take, sure, but request?
"Please - I -
take me. Hard? I want to feel - feel my body, feel it's real, feel it smart - not - act yet, take decisions - my brain is still a bit -
please?"
I so long for not-being, which is impossible, but at least not-acting, not-thinking, not-deciding... being a toy, a tool in your hands, something to be used for your pleasure, nothing else - I don't often ask for that Daniel, and I know I've already asked a lot; I've asked too much - so much - and now this? You - I don't even know if your feelings for me have changed - you say you love me - but –
What is that sound in your voice, Armand - why are you -?
Oh - you want -
I listen in confusion and concern as your words falter -
Wait - are you even ok to-
Am I even ok to-??
You look so troubled, Armand-
I rise up on my elbow and caress your cheek.
“Baby- you know I want to - I always want to with you - and I’ve missed you so much! But are you sure it’ll help - and not hurt you?”
Your eyes flicker at this. “Daniel. I’m nearly 500 years old,” you say slowly. “Do you understand how little can actually hurt me?”
I shake my head, bewildered. “But after everything you just - went through - don’t you need-?”
“Beloved... I told you what I need,” you say fervently. “I just want to feel like myself again… make me feel it again! Danie -“ you breathe, grasping my arms. “Fuck me – please.“
What am I doing?? The love of my life is asking me to help him, to make him feel better - and I’m questioning what he’s asking for? The most desirable being I’ve ever seen is begging me to fuck him - and I’m trying to reason with him??
I’m about to apologize but that’s not hot -
So what’s hot?
Don’t think, Daniel -
“Yeah - you did tell me what you need, baby-” I breathe. “And I’m going to give you just what you asked for - so good and hard-“
We’re staring at each other intently, barely breathing. I break the spell just long enough to reach into the nightstand drawer for the lube, that hasn’t been used for a month. I throw it on the bed next to you.
Then I move over you and kiss you possessively - pressing my pelvis against yours - ohhh we’re both hard already -
My tongue invades your mouth and you kiss me back, moaning - clinging to me -
Yess, baby - you belong in the land of the living - with me.
And if you need convincing I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.
Oh no Daniel don't make it difficult... it's so difficult already - don't *analyse* me Daniel -
I shouldn't have said anything -
but I did - so I will persevere - try to make you understand, though I don't understand myself, but you asked me to ask for what I need - Daniel I can see the man you will become, the man you are already, here and there, in the corners... you will be magnificent, sensual, impressive... give me that man, Daniel...
*Yes...* you get it. You take up the mantle and don it, and it looks so - hot on you...
And with the regal garment comes the king, the man, *my* man, with shadows on his face showing the magnificent bone structure and the potential of a beard, the hard angles of a masculine body holding me, pressing against mine, your manhood manifesting your interest, your mouth claiming mine -
Yes, Daniel, my gorgeous man Daniel...
I groan into your mouth, let my head fall back, my eyes closed.
The moment I feel your body surrender to mine, all thoughts of what's healthy and what's not end up fleeing from my mind. All of the longing and desperation of the last month takes over and for once my mind shuts - the fuck - up - and lets my body take over.
Our lips are hungering as we kiss - ravenous for a taste of each other -
God - Armand -
I pull back to press burning kisses into your neck and chest - licking and sucking your nipples, making you groan as your body jerks with pleasure -
God yes – more -
My lips move further, blazing a trail down your abdomen, nipping your skin, making you gasp from the sensation - teeth pinching flesh, lips and tongue tasting sweet skin - dragging you back to the world of sensation and desire -
I sit up suddenly, yanking your hips towards me - I grab the lube and coat my cock and my finger - then sliding it into you - testing how ready you are - my thinking brain may have shut down, but the animal part of me is still attuned to my mate, I realize with relief -
Your body is acquiescent, quivering - your eyes are fixed on mine, wanting more -
I withdraw my finger - because that's not what you want.
Then I plunge my cock into you - you release a moan - yess, that's what you want - your muscles squeeze my cock - oh god - Armand -
it feels like my body will explode from the pleasure of it all -
"Fuck you feel good, baby-" I mutter, grasping your hips and thrusting into you - slow to start - and hard, just like you desire - mmm - yesss –
Every spot where you touch my body is brought to life for the brief duration of the sensation - more and longer where you bite, lingering tingle of your world, the world of animation and sensation, the world of the living that I've been an outsider in for so long until I fell in love with a living man - and everything seems so *real* sometimes, like you open me up to glimpses of colour, feeling, taste that I didn't realize were attainable for me.
You look at me with ravishing hunger, and I must look at you the same way; I feel my entire body, my entire being, longing for you; and you prepare me, and I get even more ravenous - yes, yes, Daniel, my precious - man - god you look so - when did you get so mature and - even hotter?
My body yields, so naturally, wanting, needing to feel you more, deeper, to feel you fill me up until all I am is your pleasure.
And there you are, large, warm, solid, entering me, life conquering death, and death so happy to be conquered, to feel the warmth and joy of life again...
Your voice growling into my ear - is it my imagination, or has that got heavier as well? My boy becoming a man... through the inimitable process called life, that changes and changes and changes a person, into so many new fascinating inimitable variations on the same core theme, recognizable even after half a century, yet so different... and there are billions of them and *they* are all different... it's so dazzling; one blink and someone's irrevocably changed, two blinks and no one you know is around any more...
But so encompassing and enormous and you are sharing a bit of your abundance with me - Daniel Molloy, beautiful boy, wondrous man, *my* man...
I feel myself become soft and supple as my body tries to mould itself to solely welcoming you, giving the maximum pleasure –
Something intriguing is happening - your eyes, Armand - you’re looking at me differently -
When I told you that you felt good, you looked - mmm - enraptured -
And I know that feeling so well because it’s how I feel every time you fuck me with dominance - god, the burning desire that comes with being overpowered by a man…
You’re physically stronger but it doesn’t matter - your body has grown acquiescent under my invasion - submitting to my aggression - mmm -
“Yeah? Just like this, baby?” I whisper, as my thrusting quickens to punctuate my words -
You’re usually so graceful and elegant and now - god - the sight of you, moaning and writhing underneath me like an incubus, nearly undoes me -
My fingers tighten on your hips.
“God you’re - so beautiful - so fucking hot-“ I groan, plunging myself into your shivering body over and over - oh - god - Armand –
Yes, *just* like this, baby...
I love how you love, so unaffected, so unpolished, you are lost in the passion and let yourself be so unapologetically - I know you've been a careless lover in the past, I've seen that in your memories, but this isn't carelessness, it's true abandon. You know I can take whatever you give, you know I love it, and I asked for it hard - so you give it to me hard, without second-guessing but also without performative bravura; this is you, raw and unchecked, and it feels so good to surrender to that you.
I can feel you hardening, feel your pinnacle approaching, and that's good, I want that, I want it so much - I groan and clench and I can feel you shudder at the sensation, gasp -
and unleash yourself inside me, giving me the gift of your pleasure, and I feel the familiar thrill at being the catalyst of your release, this magnificent beautiful man has chosen me out of all others to be the focus of his desire...
You groan my name, your fingertips dig into my hips, yes -
"My Daniel..."
As my body quivers and shakes against yours, as I cry out, as my cock explodes with pleasure so intense it feels like a fucking bewitchment-
everything that is not you melts away - all the torment and agitation of the last month - all of the anxiety about what caused your strange behaviour -
it all flees from the state of the ecstasy that comes when our bodies merge…
And everything gets - so- fucking – clear -
this is the only truth I know, the only truth I need to know - that I'm meant to be with you, Armand. My Always.
As the last of the muscle spasms fade away, I shake my head to clear it. There's still something I need to -
ah! Yes. Very important!
I look down at you and kiss you deeply. You gaze back at me with a contented sigh. "Beautiful..." you murmur.
"Mmm... it was..." I whisper. "But I'm not done yet, baby."
I pull out and move down your body, kissing your skin as I go, ignoring your weak admonishments to rest - and then I reach my prize and dive onto your cock.
Fuck - yess -
I think that 'blow job' doesn't come close to capturing what I then proceed to do - bowed down at the altar of love, I'm worshipping the god of my devotion -
Feeling your hard pulsing cock in my mouth is like a soothing balm for my heart and mind - I was so worried I'd never get to be with you again, never touch your body, breathe in your scent, taste your sweet skin -
My Beloved has returned - and I want to show him how adored he is -
I think the breathy moans and intense shivers are a very good sign...
Your acme flows through me like heat carried along my nerves, and it makes me feel so warm, glowing up from the inside.
I want to hold you, love you, have you close, but you want to give me pleasure... no Daniel, come, lie here, lie on top of me, spent, exhausted, desire fulfilled, hot pants in my neck -
But no, you're determined, you're so sweet...
And then you're loose on me and I lose any thoughts that I still had.
You are magnificent, beloved, your mouth so hot and skilful, your dedication absolute - you really really love this, and you really really missed me...
That brings a pang of guilt. I just disappeared... went crazy...
God, what if that happens again?!
No - it won't. It must have been the flying. It *must*.
And that's all I think for a bit because your mouth is playing me like a virtuoso... and it's not long before I get my own release, so intense, like you're pulling pleasure from the very marrow of my bones. I feel my body shuddering, hear my mouth form words... it shows how close we have come, that I allow myself to be so free with you. It's not performative - in the least! - and I'm not restraining myself... I know you love seeing me like this and I love giving it to you.
After you're sure you've absorbed all I have to give, you move back up on the bed, and take me in your arms.
And I feel like a rag doll, fully supple, relaxed, almost without a care in the world.
Your body is lying against mine at long last, and it's like heaven has opened up and is shining down over us. I press a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your contented sigh feels like fireworks going off in my heart.
Thank god you're here - and seemingly ok - and thank fuck I survived the last month! It was horrendous and I never want to experience anything like it again! But there's something about our reunion that feels so significant - we both went through something dark and precarious and terrifying - and we made it back to each other and it feels so - fucking - romantic. And fated. I've never felt so deeply for you, not even before - now that I felt even a fraction of what it would be like to lose you, my beautiful Armand…
I take your chin in my hand possessively and kiss you - I don't know what's changed, but I feel more confident - I was keeping vigil over you for a month, sneaking into the basement a couple of times a day to make sure no soil had been displaced.
And then - I did what had to be done, to ensure you had the blood needed to wake and regain your strength.
And now you're here, at last - nestled safely in my arms, under my watchful eye - it's like our roles have been reversed, and I don't know if this is just temporary - or if this is what it's like now?
My arms tighten around you protectively and you make a pleased sound and press yourself even closer to me.
Mmm. I like it.
"Do you need more blood, sweetheart?" I whisper, caressing your cheek. "It's been so long..."
Your blood?
Yes - of course your blood - you're not going to go out and get a human every time I am hungry –
You –
Oh God.
Yesterday comes crashing into my mind like ice water. The blood. The human. Oh God what did we do with - we buried him in the basement - well that's not going to go unnoticed; I'll have to divest the hotel of the dead body in their crawl space - though that's not *that* urgent; it's not like people ever go there - but if they do, or if they've seen you...
The Poppy in the blood. My odd sensations - oh God I made a fool of myself... fortunately you are not unused to that; but usually you are under the same influence as I am, and you weren't yesterday -
you were stone cold sober as far as I could tell -
and you led a human to his death. A boy - *young man* - like you.
"No - no I'm alright, but - Daniel."
I pull back, lean up onto my elbow, look at you. You look fine - slightly dazed from the intercourse we had, slightly thinner than before I went down, a dark stubble -
but -
You killed someone.
"How are you feeling?"
You smile lazily. "I'm feeling great, baby..."
Your hand floats up and strokes my temple.
Do you - can't you remember? Of course you can - you weren't drunk or high, or only barely - are you trying not to think of it? But it will come back - you can't just - forget you killed someone -
"Daniel, I am - so, so sorry - I don't know what came over me, but - asking you to do - that -
I should never have -
I wasn't myself - wasn't thinking straight -
I can't imagine how you must feel - God, you must *hate* me -"
Your eyes open and you seem pensive - and then, troubled. No no, Armand - there's no need to be troubled, sweetheart. We can just have this time for us - to be safe and happy in each other’s arms again...
You ask me how I'm doing - that's a good sign you're feeling more like yourself.
Wait, what are you asking about? Oh - shit. You want to talk about that now?
The smile slides from my face.
"Oh - that." I say quietly. I look away for a moment.
I haven't had a chance to think - and I really don't want to. Not yet, Armand.
"It was - it was-" My chest tightens. I feel perilously close to something I'm not ready for. My eyes close and I swallow hard. "I wasn't sure I could do it at first. It felt impossible-"
I pause, remembering moments of that evening. Not wanting to remember. "But there was only one thing that was more impossible. Not knowing if I'd ever see you again? Leaving you in the ground-? Impossible." A lump forms in my throat and my eyes fly open. My hand moves to your face and I cradle your jaw. "You told me what you needed to come back. I did what I needed to do to bring you back. How could you think I would ever hate you??
I recoil from your hand. You look shocked, hurt - withdraw your hand.
You -
did what you needed to do.
To bring me back.
You killed a man - a *boy*; only twenty, not an evildoer or a desperate - a boy who had his whole life ahead of him.
For me. Because you couldn't miss me.
That's how far I've enchanted, sullied, corrupted you.
You kill for me.
*Kill*.
Kill fellow people and don't even consider it *evil* or *terrible* because missing me is worse -
oh *God* what have I done -
How could I *ever* think that I could be with you - evil corrupts. What partnership can righteousness have with wickedness? What fellowship does light have with darkness?
You are so smitten with me that you associate everything to do with me with *good*, and if I kill, then murder must be acceptable...
Oh god *Daniel* -
Your hand reaches for me again but I back away, get out of the bed.
"I have destroyed you - oh God Daniel - so young-"
I start pacing. "Do not be deceived: Bad company corrupts good character. Do not make friends with an angry man, and do not associate with a hot-tempered man, or you may learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare! What harmony is there between Christ and Belial? Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers. Avoid it; do not travel on it. Turn from it and pass on by!!"
"Armand - are you quoting the Bible? What are you saying?"
"Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?!?"
What -? Why are you pulling away from me like that!?
And what is that look on your face - you look angry, sad, disgusted, horrified - all of that for me? After everything I-??
And then -
and then -
Why the hell did you get up?? I'm about to protest that you haven't destroyed me, I'll be fine thank you very much, why are you doing this, Armand!! -
And then a tidal wave of words rises and falls - crashing over me like a behemoth -
What the fuck, Armand??
I'm trying to understand, I'm trying to be supportive, I really am, I swear I am, but why do you keep throwing religious text at me?? What does that have to do with anything? And why are these dusty judgmental words more important to you than me?!
"Armand - stop!" I shout, shocking us both.
I get up out of bed. "I don't know what’s come over you, if it's a residual effect of what you went through? But please do me a favour and stop quoting bible passages at me!"
Wide-eyed, you stare back at me.
I can't read your expression now! And I have no fucking idea how things went so terribly wrong... oh god - I rub my eyes, trying not to burst into tears or shout at you some more.
I draw in a shaky breath. "Armand please, just - talk with me. Sit down and talk -" I say softly. "I'll listen - I promise. But I need you to listen to me too..."
"Don't you hear what I'm saying Daniel?! Alright I will stop quoting bible passages - I will say it in my own words -
I have destroyed you! I have spoiled you - your humanity! You have been around evil so long that you - take it as normal! Your young impressionable mind is so corrupted that you - that you chose *killing* an innocent over risking losing me - not to death - not even to death - but to - insanity, or sleep. And you chose - death - murder! - to avoid potentially not seeing me -
don't you see what your companionship with me has done to you?!"
I look at you - how can you not understand? How can you not be horrified at yourself?! At me??
MitchieSawyer on Chapter 1 Sun 02 Nov 2025 05:50PM UTC
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Conduitstreetcat on Chapter 1 Mon 03 Nov 2025 02:26PM UTC
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Affienia on Chapter 1 Tue 04 Nov 2025 10:31AM UTC
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Conduitstreetcat on Chapter 1 Tue 04 Nov 2025 10:29PM UTC
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Conduitstreetcat on Chapter 2 Sun 02 Nov 2025 04:20PM UTC
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MitchieSawyer on Chapter 2 Sun 02 Nov 2025 07:45PM UTC
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TheGreenFaerie on Chapter 2 Mon 03 Nov 2025 04:45PM UTC
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Affienia on Chapter 2 Tue 04 Nov 2025 10:59AM UTC
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Conduitstreetcat on Chapter 2 Wed 05 Nov 2025 07:09PM UTC
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Affienia on Chapter 3 Thu 13 Nov 2025 07:53PM UTC
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TheGreenFaerie on Chapter 3 Thu 13 Nov 2025 08:37PM UTC
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Affienia on Chapter 3 Thu 13 Nov 2025 09:16PM UTC
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Conduitstreetcat on Chapter 3 Fri 14 Nov 2025 06:56PM UTC
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Affienia on Chapter 3 Fri 14 Nov 2025 07:44PM UTC
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TheGreenFaerie on Chapter 3 Thu 13 Nov 2025 08:52PM UTC
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