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Armand could feel Daniel’s lust. He’d been feeling it all evening. They went to see Blade Runner again, Armand hoping it would fix the strange mood he was in. It had distracted him beautifully up until the love scene, Rachel trying to get away and Deckard forcing the door shut before she could leave. Armand had seen this movie many times and had always ignored this scene, brushed off the strange feeling in his stomach and forgotten about it by the time the movie was over. But now with Daniel next to him, somewhat bored with the movie and distracting himself with the usual filthy fantasies of what they might do together once they got home, Armand felt trapped. Then Deckard pushed Rachel against the window and slowly reached for her face. Armand had closed his eyes.
Doing so had been a mistake because when Deckard spoke again Armand’s mind had supplied him with the image of a different man and a scene not set in the neon distant future dystopian but the ancient candlelit past. “Say: kiss me.”
There was hesitation from Rachel, fear and confusion, a broken off sentence. “Say: kiss me,” Deckard insisted.
Armand opened his eyes again. “Kiss me,” Rachel replied. There was saxophone music playing, the drawn out romantic kind and beautiful striped lighting from the window blinds making both characters seem trapped in a cage as they melted into the kiss.
Armand looked over at Daniel and something about Daniel’s inattentive attitude bothered him more than it ever had. Daniel was only watching this movie for Armand and he was doing it for the third time this week and it was totally fine if he got a little distracted. But something was awry in Armand’s head right now. He wanted Daniel to look at the scene and see what Rachel felt, to say something, though Armand could not have said what.
The rest of the movie passed in a blur and then they walked home and then they were in their hotel room and Daniel shut the door behind them. Armand wondered what would happen if he tried to leave, make up some plausible reason why he had to get away. But then Daniel wrapped his arms around Armand from behind, his face snuggling into the crook of Armand’s neck and he whispered, so softly, his lust a rush of warm water: “I really wanna fuck you tonight.”
Armand already knew that, he knew what Daniel expected, he’d felt it all evening. The words still made him nauseous and in an unconsidered rush of rebellion, as instinctive as his quiet panicked breath, the word just tumbled out.
“No.”
Daniel paused, lifted his head away from Armands neck and shrugged. “Okay,” he said and, despite his evident disappointment, let Armand go. Armand stood completely still, wondering if the interaction had been a fabrication of his mind. He had heard Daniel’s words, of course, but he had also felt his desire and they didn’t line up.
Then Daniel was undressing and Armand knew where this was going but then the next moment Daniel was slipping into his pyjama pants and Armand was confused again. He decided to simply do as Daniel did, slip into his silken sleeping clothes and wait for what would come next. As he was doing so he tried to feel Daniel’s lust again, Armand was certain he was watching him and confused when he turned around to find Daniel looking away.
“Daniel?” He said to get they boy’s attention. Daniel smiled at him, soft and loving, his eyes trailing along the dark purple fabric of Armand’s nightwear and up to his face. Yes, there was the desire again, unguarded as it had always been.
“You’re beautiful,” Daniel said and Armand could feel a knot tightening in his throat. He was not sure what illusion he’d been under before but he cast all thoughts of it aside. Daniel wanted him and Armand would offer himself.
His next movements were practiced, intentional. His body felt distant as if he was trapped in a movie, just like Rachel, living in a dystopian future so far removed from his childhood and his immortal life. A replicant with a four-year lifespan, built for one purpose, with nothingness waiting once it was fulfilled.
He walked to the bed, slowly lying down on his back, his eyes never loosing sight of Daniel who was raising a curious eyebrow. He wanted to close his eyes and shut out the world but he did not want to be caught of guard by Daniel’s hands.
“Uhm, Armand?” Daniel stood at the edge of the bed, he looked confused. “Are you okay?”
Armand didn’t answer. I’m ready, he wanted to say, you can have me now, but the words got stuck in his throat. Say: kiss me.
Suddenly, Armand wasn’t sure he could do this. Not when it reminded him of his favourite movie, not when this beautiful miracle of human creation he had found, that he could watch over and over again would now forever remind him of the taste of bile in his throat. He wanted a love, he bitterly realised, that would never have to feel like this.
But it was a broken thing, that want. There was no such love for him. Every love demanded love in return and Daniel’s was a love he could not live without.
With his words not working, Armand made use of the rest of his body, which was usually enough. He slowly pulled his pants down, exposing himself and waiting for Daniel’s hungry eyes to glide down to the thing he truly wanted. Daniel’s eyes did look down for a moment, then they looked back up, the confusion had turned into concern, there was no more lust in them. “What are you—” Daniel seemed to genuinely struggle to find the right words, “you said you didn’t want to?”
Armand let out a slow breath, his lips parted. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, wanting to disappear into the mattress, “it won’t happen again.”
Now the concern on Daniel’s face turned to horror. “What?”
His voice was loud and Armand shrunk in on himself. “I love you,” Armand could hear the tremor in his voice but it didn’t matter, had never mattered. “I can do this for you.”
“Armand, what the actual fuck are you talking about?”
“Do you not wish to make love to me?”
Armand felt cold suddenly, hollow.
“I do,” Daniel admitted, “but like, do you want it?”
“I want what you want.”
There was a strong rush of feelings coming off Daniel in waves: sorrow, anger, pity. Armand knew he was the cause of it but he didn’t know how to fix it. Daniel let out a sharp breath, he took a step away. “Okay no, Armand, what even—” Daniel shook his head, he looked a little pale, “no, put your pants back on.”
Armand did as he was instructed, wondering if Daniel intended to rip a hole into the expensive fabric and fuck him through it. Armand thought he might actually cry if that happened, he really liked those pants. Which was stupid because he’d endured so much worse without a singe tear, with a smile even, if it was demanded. But tonight something was wrong with his head, he couldn’t bring himself to look happy. He was stuck thinking about Blade Runner, he loved that movie and now it would forever make him feel sick. And Daniel, whom he loved more than anything in the world and now—
He didn’t finish that thought, he loved Daniel and that was the end of it.
“—if something I do makes you uncomfortable.”
Oh, Daniel was talking to him. He was still standing at the edge of the bed, not getting closer or kissing him, just saying words that Armand wasn’t processing. Did he not want him?
In a sudden burst of anger and fear, Armand grabbed Daniel’s hand and pulled him into bed. “Oh, stop toying with me!” he near shouted, “just get it over with!”
Daniel was dumbstruck for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelieve. Armand immediately felt ashamed. He shouldn’t push, shouldn’t complain.
Daniel moved himself off from Armand to sit down next to him. Armand didn’t let go of his hands, he needed to know where they were and he needed Daniel not to leave.
“Armand,” Daniel’s voice was clear when he spoke again, solid, “I’m not ‘getting it over with’ I’m not doing it.”
Armand couldn’t look Daniel in the eyes. “But you want it.”
“Doesn’t matter, you don’t want it, we’re not doing it.”
Daniel made it sound so simple, like anything else would be wrong.
“Okay.” Armand tried to play along with this, as if it was exactly what he expected. “Fine,” he said more resolutely, wrapping Daniel’s arms around him from behind so he could press Daniel’s hands against his chest. They could hug like this and it could look normal and Armand could still know where Daniel’s hands were. They lay down like this, Armand burying his face in the pillow, as if they were just going to sleep. Perhaps Daniel wanted him unsuspecting, half asleep, or perhaps Daniel was telling the truth and only wanted him willing.
It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t sleep. He’d stay awake and know what was happening before the hands could reach his waistline and he’d be prepared, he’d pretend to love it, moan loudly like Daniel liked and then he’d lock the memory out of his head and never think about it again. It shouldn’t be too hard as long as he never watched Blade Runner again. But now that thought made him want to cry because he loved that movie and he wanted to keep loving it even if it made him nauseous.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Daniel asked carefully behind him.
Armand felt tears trickle in his eyes, he forced his voice to be harsh but it sounded rather petulant. “No.”
“Okay.”
Silence followed. Armand was tense, like his body was strung on a wire, waiting. In the silence he considered Daniel’s words again, his actions, poked at his mind to find no ill will there, no lust. Armand could not be sure his senses were to be trusted. His voice was small and fragile when he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re not going to do it?”
The reply was immediate. “I’m sure.”
A sob did break out of Armand then, a ragged and pained thing. He felt stupid, useless. He swallowed the feeling along with his half cries. “I’d let you do it,” he said, “I wouldn’t fight or hurt you, you don’t have to be afraid of that.” He was waiting for the lust to creep back into Daniel’s mind but all Daniel felt was revulsion.
“Armand stop it! No, I’m not— Jesus Christ I’m not going to rape you. You shouldn’t— I can’t believe you would let me do that.”
“But I love you,” Armand said earnestly, “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not going to leave,” Daniel sounded horrified, “Armand I’m noting going to leave just because you don’t want to have sex with me one night.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Armand knew he had done something very wrong, had given Daniel some terrible idea about him. He could slip into Daniel’s head and see it all spelled out there. —some deep-rooted trauma, rape— he must have been raped, probably when he was human, people back then didn’t even known what consent was— it must have been by someone he loved too, because why else would he approach sex like that.
“No,” Armand’s voice was sharp, “no Daniel you’re getting it wrong.”
Daniel just looked at him, not even upset about Armand intruding on his thoughts. “What am I getting wrong?”
“I know how consent works.”
Daniel looked skeptical. “How do you think it works?”
Armand hesitated, he knew if he answered wrong Daniel would be upset but he needed to prove that he wasn’t broken, that he could be normal and modern about sex like everybody else. “If I say no, then we don’t do it.”
“Okay.” Daniel smiled faintly, Armand liked his smile, he’d give anything for it. “But that also requires you to say no if I do anything you don’t like, even if it’s small.”
“I’m stronger than you, Daniel, I could just stop you.”
But you wouldn’t. Daniel’s thoughts were loud enough to make the room’s silence unbearable. He was thinking about all the times they had made love, all the times he’d been harsh, drunk or otherwise inattentive, questioning Armand’s willingness to participate.
“Daniel, stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
Daniel buried his face in the pillow, muffling his voice. “Get out of my head.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No Armand—” Daniel sat up, the movement so suddenly Armand’s chest went tight with panic. “Stop apologizing, this is not— I’m just processing that—” He paused when he saw the fear in Armand’s eyes.
“God this is—” he paused again, took an unsteady breath. “Okay, first things first, is there anything I can do that would make you feel better right now? Maybe get out of the bed?”
Armand shook his head. He didn’t want to move and the bed was at least soft and warm, a gentle memory, not as violent as the floor.
“Okay, if anything comes to mind you just tell me.” Daniel looked beautiful when he was like this, with all his focus on Armand as if he could shatter through the simple act of looking away. “Then I’m going to say a few things now and you tell me if you want me to repeat myself or if you want me to stop talking.”
Armand wouldn’t say anything but he nodded anyways. He was half expecting a scolding, some explanation to why his behaviour had been wrong.
“I love you,” Daniel said instead and Armand felt his world slowly dissolving around him. “I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t know why you would let me but you’re right, I shouldn’t assume things. But I need you to know that whatever it is it’s not your fault and Armand, you don’t need to earn my love, you already have it. If I’ve ever done something in the past that you didn’t want then I’m sorry and we don’t have to talk about it now but we should have that conversation at some point. And if you ever say no and I try to force myself on you anyways you should honestly throw me into a fucking wall.”
Armand chuckled softly at that last part, always so drastic, his boy.
“What matters is that I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want,” Daniel concluded, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
Armand looked at the floor. “But I forced you to watch Blade Runner.”
“That is not the same thing, not even close.”
Armand felt tears in his eyes. “You were bored.”
“It’s still just a movie and if it was that bad for me I would have protested.”
“It’s not that bad for me,” Armand mumbled quietly, knowing his behaviour wasn’t doing much to convince anyone.
Daniel just put a hand on his shoulder, a calm reassurance. “It is that bad, Armand, and that’s okay.”
Something about those last words broke through Armand’s shell and instead of downplaying his feelings like he was so thoroughly used to he buried his head in Daniel’s chest and cried. Something had come loose inside of him, all the tension, the dreaded anticipation, it all rushed out and he was reduced to a crumbling mess in Daniel’s save arms.
“I really love Blade Runner,” Armand said eventually, still in-between sobs. Daniel hummed in confirmation. “I know.”
“I don’t care that there’s a scene I don’t like.”
“Which scene?” Daniel asked carefully, his hand rubbing soothing circles into Armand’s back.
“The love scene.”
“You mean the borderline sexual assault scene?” Daniel asked, his words moving quicker than his mind. “Oh… yeah, I see how that would—”
“I don’t care,” Armand insisted, feeling like a child clutching a broken toy. “I love the movie and I want to keep watching it.”
“Okay,” Daniel simply replied and they spent the rest of the night comfortably wrapped in each others arms.
Two day’s later Daniel came to him with a VHS video tape of Blade Runner and handed it to him with a wide grin. “I’ve got a present for you.”
“I already have three of these,” Armand replied, though he would never complain about a fourth.
“I cut out the scene,” Daniel explained, “took a bit of improvising and I think there might be a short interruption at that section but the scene itself is gone.”
Armand stared at the VHS tape in Daniel’s hand, unable to articulate what he was feeling. It hit him suddenly that maybe there was a love that would not have to make him nauseous after all and that Daniel was doing what he could to be that love, that Daniel wanted to be that love for him.
Armand wanted to say this, wanted to thank Daniel or to explain himself but the words weren’t coming out. Instead he took Daniel’s hand and excitedly dragged him to their TV, buzzing with a sudden energy he couldn’t quite contain, flapping his hands a few times as he waited for Daniel to put in the VHS tape.
They watched Blade Runner on repeat until the sun came up, huddled together on the couch, Armand focused on every second of it while Daniel occasionally got up to work on his projects, get another beer or have a smoke on the balcony. Armand felt comfortable like this, warm and fuzzy. Loving Daniel was a good kind of love, a kind that did not demand its sacrifice.