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Tonight the tour bus is quiet, which is a fucking miracle all things considered. Lestat and the band must be off doing lord knows what, likely accompanied by his lawyer and groupies who trailed behind Lestat like a line of coked up ducklings.
Daniel gave his camera crew the night off too…because he’s nice like that. Well, the truth is Daniel is losing hope in this whole documentary thing. The Cannes Festival was starting to feel more and more like a distant dream, just another glimmer in the bus’s rearview mirror. A bus which Lestat drove with a lead foot. Metaphorically— Lestat hadn’t gotten the chance to crash the bus, yet.
Lestat’s general resistance to questioning and insistence of speeding head first towards disaster gave Daniel only more reasons to resent the vampire wannabe rock star that he found himself stuck with.
So, when Daniel found himself alone tonight, after zipping his way out of his hanging sleeping bag in the back of Lestat’s closet (yes, he gets the irony), he didn’t really mind the idea of getting some alone time. It was sort of hard to jerk off in private on a bus full of people…not that anyone would have protested if he tried because this was, after all, a den of debauchery on wheels. But the initial thrill of group sex and exhibitionism had already worn off for the vampire fledgling. Daniel is pretty sure he’s seen Salamander’s dick more times than he’s seen his own family this past year.
So, yeah. Sue him. He wanted some genuine alone time. Which, so far, involved taking a long, warm shower. Hopefully using up all of the heated water before Lestat returned, as well as seeing how much expensive soap Daniel could load a duck shaped loofah up with at once. He’d use up the entire bottle of ‘Salt & Stone’ body-wash just to spite Lestat. Fuck that guy.
It’s just as Daniel is starting to relax, his stiff muscles finally loosening under the steamy overhead spray, when the sound of passing cars cuts out. No honking or screeching of wheels. Everything but the din of the water beating down on his back evaporates and Daniel feels his skin go clammy.
Oh great, not again.
He hadn’t even gotten a chance to get a hand on his dick yet! Of course this had to happen to him tonight of all nights.
Ever since meeting his maker one-on-one, instances of the entire world disappearing around Daniel had all but ceased. He was hoping this particular instance would pass without an actual appearance from…him. Daniel was just not ready to confront Armand or his recent love confession.
So, Daniel stands there and waits. Prays for it to pass.
It doesn’t.
“Daniel.”
“What the fuck!?” Daniel spins around almost slipping on the wet floor.
“Apologies, Daniel…I was just…”
“Planning to stand there all day?” Daniel snaps, a hand making a pitiful attempt to cover his dignity— which is currently hanging low and wet between his legs, “What? Ogling my bare ass?”
Armand’s body stiffens, his brow creasing ever slightly. Lips turning downward.
“It was not my intention,” Armand says, with a heated huff.
“Yeah, sure.” Daniel rolls his eyes for good measure.
He shifts his body away from Armand, another halfhearted attempt to cover himself up. Clutches the duck shaped loofah on a string closer to his chest. Tries to breathe.
Of course Armand had to be dressed nicely. A deep colored button-up, sensible neutral undershirt, and classy-yet-casual slacks that showed off his tapered waist. Daniel felt like shoving the loofah in his mouth and screaming.
“So what was your intention?” he asks, instead, “Why are you here, Armand?”
“There is more to discuss. About us…”
“You think!?”
It’s not like Armand recently confessed his love to Daniel or anything.
“I can come back at a better time.”
“No,” Daniel says sternly, “You’re not getting off that easy.” He steps closer, out from under the spray. His wet hair is slicked back, the remnants of shampoo dripping from his ears.
Armand makes a show of averting his eyes as Daniel draws near.
“We’re talking about this,” Daniel says, making the mistake of letting his eyes fall to Armand’s trembling mouth, “We’re talking about…” his voice trails off as he feels Armand’s eyes flickering back to him. Daniel traces the motion, like he’s hypnotized. Undeniably drawn to the magnetism of Armand’s pulsing stare.
“About what?” Armand asks, voice doing a great job at hiding the tremor of his hands. The slight wobble in his throat.
“About…” Daniel trails off again, gaze moving between each of Armand’s eyes and then down to his mouth. He swallows. “About us.”
“Hmm.” Armand makes a knowing sound— slightly inquisitive, but his eyes give away that he’s not paying attention. Instead following the faint movement of Daniel’s throat. The bob of his Adam’s apple.
And Daniel raises up a shaky hand, the exposed flesh of his arm showing the muscle well kept even in age. His palm hovers near Armand’s neck, almost making contact— a droplet of water glides down the front of Armand’s shirt, into the divot of his collarbone.
Armand’s hand curls around his fledgling’s wavering fingers, pressing Daniel’s palm against the bottom curve of his jaw. Daniel’s mouth hangs open, and Armand leans into him. Slightly downward. He recalls Daniel being the same height as him once, but now…now he is slightly shorter, from age perhaps.
Daniel’s bare feet make a slapping sound against the cold floor of the tour bus as he inches closer. The water continues to pour down behind them. Daniel’s chest presses close to the fabric of Armand’s dress shirt.
As if afraid to touch, Armand’s other hand hovers over the lower slope of Daniel’s back. Like he’s withholding due to some sort of sense of propriety. Daniel feels the smooth skin of Armand’s neck, runs his fingers up against his cheek. Feels the slightest hint of stubble and watches as the moisture transfers from his body to Armand’s.
And the older vampire lets out a slight breath. A shaky sigh. The air pooling against Daniel’s open mouth. They’re so close. And…and…he wants to touch more. His eyes flash back up to Armand’s and find his pupils blown wide.
Daniel tilts his head just a little, as if considering the best way to fit up against the curve of Armand’s mouth. To fill the space between his lips.
In that moment all he registers is Armand and the continuous droll of rushing water at his back. It’s sudden. The moment Daniel decides to give in. It’s the way Armand looks fragile, a bit vulnerable despite the way his presence fills a room. The way his presence fills Daniel’s entire world. He leans up the last few centimeters between them. Armand in his dress boots, Daniel in nothing.
He slides his hand behind Armand’s neck and pulls him down, against Daniel’s parting lips. Lands a clear smack right on him. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes, but his other senses heighten. The sweet desperate sound Armand makes into his mouth. The press of the stiff cotton fabric of Armand’s shirt against Daniel’s chest— a button grazing a hardening nipple. There’s a jolt of sudden pleasure when Armand squeezes the meat of his side, tugging him just that tiny bit closer. The leg of Armand’s slack pressing up between Daniel’s thighs.
Armand’s nails sink into his skin, breaking the surface and Daniel’s head is suddenly hazy. His whole body moving on autopilot— fingers in Armand’s hair, gripping his collar to pull him closer. Lips gliding against Armand’s perfect, terrifying mouth. The movement is smooth, almost too smooth. They fit too well— and that’s infuriating.
He’d meant to confront Armand for his bullshit the other day. The ‘I love you’ that made Daniel gag…well, or so he claims (if he convinces himself enough that it happened then it’ll surely become the truth). He grazes the flesh of Armand’s bottom lip firmly with his teeth— not yet introducing his fangs, but when Armand groans against his mouth Daniel’s resolve crumbles.
His fangs drop and he tries to pull back, but Armand’s hands hold him close. Keep him in place. A tongue flicks over one of the revealed incisors and Daniel garbles out a sound— half confusion, half pleasure.
“Armand,” he tries to breathe out between the sharp kisses and licks made against his mouth. “Armand, wait—”
The cool air of the bus suddenly surrounds him. He’s wet and naked and standing dumbly in the middle of the room. Alone.
He runs a hand through his soggy curls and lets out a shuttery half-performative breath. Armand is pressed up against the closet door. The back of his hand pushed to his mouth, a red smear of blood trickling down his lip. He’s never looked better. Hair askew, eyes blown wide— like a feline ready to hunt. Truly a smoke show. An ancient beauty. A young man trapped in eternity. A monster that Daniel craved as much as he feared.
The front of his shirt and pants are…wet. The clear indent of Daniel’s body against Armand’s clothing. And Daniel hides his face in his hands. Oh god, did they really just do that?
“Oh my god,” he says aloud, the duck shaped loofah falling down into the crook of his elbow. He’d totally forgotten about it. How silly it must’ve looked, him making out with a damn duck shaped sponge hanging from his arm. How foolish must he look now with suds in his hair, shampoo sliding down his neck? Naked and wet sporting a rather impressive half-chub.
Armand was going to laugh at him. Should laugh at him. Instead, the ancient vampire stays silent, staring at Daniel with a frazzled, frightened look— reminding Daniel of the one he wore that night in Dubai.
Oh. Maybe he’d been wrong.
Armand was…frightened. Of him? Of what they had just done?
A halfhearted apology is on the tip of Daniel’s tongue when the sound of Armand knocking over one of the bus’s tacky pieces of decor cuts him off. An ugly wooden statue that’s now on the floor.
“My apologies, Daniel,” Armand garbles out, stumbling back, hands gripping each new available surface like he’s searching for a lost set of keys.
“Wait,” Daniel cuts in, voice low but clear, “Armand, listen.” He adds a little begging to his commanding tone and that has Armand pausing in place.
“Yes?” he says, voice inching back to composed and not so frantic. He’s frozen. A statue before Daniel.
“Don’t go,” Daniel says with a tired huff. He frowns a little, unable to keep the pout from twisting his features.
He doesn’t want Armand to go. Doesn't want to lose this moment just because he scared him off.
“Listen, I’ll,” Daniel scratches awkwardly at his neck and drops his gaze to the floor, “I’ll finish up and we can talk…when I’m not so…” he makes a vague gesture at his exposed body.
A slight shiver seems to wrack Armand, but he rights himself and nods firmly.
“Alright.” His voice is back to normal. Controlled. Reserved. Armand.
Daniel turns around as Armand settles in. The older vampire perches atop an empty span of countertop, his eyes on a far off window as he fidgets with his hands in his lap.
Daniel continues to lather himself up until he goes to wash his legs. That’s when his trusty duck loofah slides from off his arm and onto the floor. Splat.
He reaches out for the suds-covered duck and just manages to clasp it between his sharp nails. The spray from the shower beats down on the long expanse of his back. He’s bent over at the waist and his ass just so happens to be pointed in the direction of one very stoic (totally not flustered) vampire.
“Whoops,” Daniel laughs, glancing over his shoulder, “dropped the soap.”
When their eyes meet Armand’s nostrils flare.
Uh oh, Daniel thinks, brows knitting as he quickly turns away. He tries to go back to scrubbing himself, but can’t seem to shake the strange reaction of Armand from his mind.
That’s when he gets an idea, a curious…devious…really bad idea.
He lets the water wash over him for a few more beats. Goes to reach for his shoulder blades and stops just short of them— feigning effort. He makes a show of straining a bit, even adds in a faux ‘Hmph’ of frustration.
Daniel turns to Armand, his face the image of innocence.
“Do me a favor?” he asks, holding out the duck loofah, “Get my back, will ya’?”
Armand freezes, eyes trained on the offered sponge. His piercing amber gaze flickering back up to Daniel’s face.
He’s about to tell Armand he’s ‘just kidding’ when the other vampire rises in a fast, fluid motion, grabbing the loofah from Daniel’s loose grip before he can think.
Armand presses the foamed sponge to his back, tracing between his shoulder blades with a firm, but pleasant pressure. He runs it up and down in a practiced motion. Steadies Daniel with a hand on his hip, turning him this way and that as he pleases. Daniel’s breath is slow and labored.
Is this really happening?
Armand scrapes his sharp nails in the wake of the sponge. Making Daniel shutter and jolt. The tiny wounds sting slightly from the soap. Daniel tries to ignore the growing pressure in his gut. Just below his bellybutton.
Armand makes an assessing sound, as if regarding his work. Starts running the loofah along Daniel’s sides, and then lower, and lower…until the sponge is pressed up against the right globe of Daniel’s ass. Armand’s other hand grips the left cheek and… Daniel can’t help but yelp when he pulls them apart.
“Doing a thorough cleaning, are we?” he tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathy and light. Raspy.
Armand’s hand stops.
“Is that what you would like?” Armand asks, voice hushed but loud enough as he leans near Daniel’s ear.
“Would…would you?” The question barely escapes Daniel’s throat before Armand chuckles and releases Daniel’s ass completely. He tries not to feel the tiniest bit disappointed.
“Your back is done,” Armand assesses, stepping slightly away from Daniel. The silence hangs between them for a bit, in which Daniel feels only slightly dead inside. “The front?” Armand asks, his breath against Daniel’s shoulder. A sudsy hand hovering over the curve of Daniel’s hip. Almost caressing the bone.
God, Daniel groans internally, this is like some bad porno. But like any bad porno, it feels pretty damn sexy in the moment when you’re super horny. He can cringe at himself later.
“Yeah,” he lets out— in lack of anything better to say. And that’s when Armand pushes up against him, his front slotting against Daniel’s back. An arm curling around Daniel’s body, locking him in place as Armand reaches between his legs. And Daniel moans like a wanton whore on first contact, head lolling back on to Armand’s shoulder.
Next thing Daniel knows, he’s nuzzling into Armand’s neck, laying sloppy kisses on whatever skin he can reach. His arms flail helplessly, gripping up toward Armand. Holding the meat of his forearm, clawing at his shoulder.
He can feel the press of Armand’s interest into his back, bumping up against him. Proof Armand also wants this. At least physically which is still a shocking revelation. Even if this was just Armand trying to win him over or make up for the years of fledgling abandonment…Daniel’s mind is way too buzzed to care.
Armand wants him. Armand is hard from touching him, kissing him, seeing him naked.
He needs to kiss him again. On the lips. But he can’t.
He lets out a low haggard whine and Armand makes an inquisitive hum. Runs a hand over Daniel’s chest tenderly, as if to comfort him. Soothe him. Hush the discontent.
“You need only to ask,” Armand mumbles against the shell of his ear.
Daniel lets out a frustrated huff. Armand didn’t understand.
Daniel couldn’t. They shouldn’t be doing this. This was so fucked. Because Armand is all he hates. Armand is all he wants. Desires, deeply. Armand left him. Armand took something irreplaceable. Armand turned him in fucking Newark. Armand didn’t even ask. He just took and took. Flung his body around like some plush toy. Sunk his teeth in and rung Daniel dry. There had been a field full of flowers. A meadow. He remembers a meadow. Asters blooming up from the floor, vines sprouting between the seams of the jet’s hull. Bright sunlight on his face and Armand’s voice cooing to him softer than any turtle dove.
And he hates Armand.
What could he even ask of Armand that could make up for everything…what could he even ask for that Armand could possibly give? His body? Payment in the form of pleasure? A dreadful language they both intimately understood and…No. Fuck no.
Maybe he’s crying now and maybe Armand’s hand is stopping.
Daniel turns, presses his forehead against Armand’s and just breathes. Shakily expelling air from his lungs. A mimicry of the humanity he lost over two years ago. His hands shake. Just as they did when he was human. Armand’s fingers wrap around him, squeezing tight until Daniel’s entire body steadies.
How can the most unstable man he knows manage to ground him so well?
“Listen, listen…” Daniel says, voice haggard, wet, “we need to talk.”
Armand looks confused. Brows knitted.
“I need to— we need to—” Daniel gasps out, "What is this?” he asks Armand for the second time and he looks so scared— which makes Armand scared. Because what did Daniel mean?
Wasn’t this a conversation? Hands on hands on body on skin.
Daniel holds him at an arms length, but is still holding him nonetheless. Which is a miracle itself.
“You want this?” Daniel asks, all small and vulnerable. Like his throat is raw. “You want…” he gestures meekly towards himself.
Me?
“You undersell yourself, Daniel.” Armand says, calmly with his eyes trained somewhere near Daniel’s mouth. As if entranced.
“Yeah, I’m a seventy-something vampire with unaddressed transformational trauma, a winning personality, and a crude mouth.” He rolls his eyes. “Sure.”
Armand huffs a little, an aborted chuckle.
“I happen to quite like that crude mouth.”
Armand’s gaze intensifies, still trained on Daniel’s slack lips— hung open in bafflement. Pure shock.
“Oh?” he says, partially swallowing the word. His voice is deep and low, resonating from his chest.
“Allow me to show you.” Armand leans in slowly, Daniel reacts in kind. Pulling closer. Like two magnets. Unable to resist.
And, oh, Armand kisses him sweetly. All tender and chase. A lingering peck. When their lips separate, Daniel’s eyes flicker back open and he catches a glimpse of Armand’s mouth parted in desire. His amber gaze hooded with pleasure.
Daniel pushes in, shuts his eyes. Goes back under. It sends electric jolts through his body. He feels like a teen again stealing kisses under the bleachers. A little forbidden, but oh so right…and made all the sweeter by Armand caressing his face with such a cautious reverence. Stroking Daniel’s cheek like he might break. Holding him just so…so that Armand’s claws don’t even graze his skin.
Daniel melts into it. Sinks into the intoxicating tenderness of Armand’s lips. He lets himself be kissed like someone’s first girlfriend on the stoop of her front porch. All slow and sugary.
Daniel’s hand curls around Armand’s face, encompassing his side profile completely. His sharp nails curling into the back of Armand’s hair. Strands of black now slightly damp from the shower water dripping off Daniel’s fingers. He grasps a bit desperately to Armand, but stops his fists from curling too tight. Tonight they are two gentle things. Ceramic figures. Porcelain, glass lovers.
He pulls back, bumps his nose against Armand’s, kisses the corner of his mouth. Maybe he can be soft again. Gentle despite all his hard edges. He just needed someone…Armand perhaps…to show him how. Remind him that despite his own jaggedness and casual cruelty…there is a boy…a man…a soul that spent so long denying itself tenderness. Exchanged his body for another hit, another high. A floaty, cosmic escape from reality. Lashed out and bit and tore. Took what it could with its mouth. Lost everything that mattered, that should have mattered, in his clenched fists. Suffocating it all.
He wants to hold Armand tight now, but not tight enough to crush. Not at this moment. He can sink his teeth in later, lock his jaw around Armand until he can never leave him again.
He fumbles with the buttons of Armand’s shirt, plucking them apart between each kiss. Armand eagerly grabs at Daniel’s body, scooping up handfuls of hanging skin. Running nails up Daniel’s spine.
When Daniel reaches Armand’s undershirt he makes a displeased grunt and tugs at the fabric.
“Fuck this,” he grumbles against Armand’s spit-slick mouth, “get rid of this.”
Armand wastes no time, slinging the undershirt from off his body and to the side. His chest heaves and Daniel stares entranced at his wonderfully defined pecs. The spattering of black hair across his brown skin. The perk of dark nipples. Daniel’s mouth waters. He scoops up one of Armand’s pecs and fastens his mouth to the other. Lapping at the skin.
Armand’s head falls back, letting out a sharp cry of pleasure. He grips fingers into the wet hair on Daniel’s head, sliding his nails against his scalp.
Daniel groans, tongue pressed flat against Armand’s nipple. The vibration makes Armand keen and soon he’s tugging Daniel back up for another heated kiss.
Daniel’s fingers are busy searching for the metal of Armand’s belt when the telltale slam of the bus door catches his attention. He freezes in place. Armand’s licking at the side of his neck, leaving fevered kisses when Daniel hears footsteps drawing closer.
“Armand,” he says in a harsh whisper.
The older vampire pulls away, looks up at Daniel confused. And damn he’s so cute.
Daniel motions his head toward the nearby stairs and Armand’s face stills. Realization settles over his features and there is a frantic quality to the wideness of his eyes.
Daniel tugs him to the other end of the bus, all but shoves Armand towards Lestat’s coffin. The older vampire makes a displeased face before crawling inside.
Daniel’s in the process of gathering Armand’s clothes into an inconspicuous pile when he senses a warm body approaching.
It’s a familiar heartbeat. Maybe a bit fast from some sort of upper. So Daniel’s not completely surprised when Salamander waltzes in.
From inside the coffin, Armand huffs. It smells overwhelmingly of sweat, leather, and alcohol. Of Lestat. He trains his ears to the sound just outside the coffin’s plush walls.
Whoever just entered lets out a low whistle in Daniel’s direction. Armand bristles at the sound.
“Still got it ol’ man.”
“Thanks…” Daniel replies.
“Don’t mind me just getting my vape.”
“Yeah,” Daniel adds, feebly.
“As you were, Count Molloy. Don’t lemme stop you.”
Then there’s the metal squeak of the bus stairs and the sound of footsteps fades. Armand pushes his way out of the coffin. Practically lunging himself toward Daniel when he feels the fresh air hit his skin.
“That was just Sala–Woah!” Daniel staggers back. Armand is suddenly on him. His hands possessively marking their claim, running up and down Daniel’s body. Gripping an arm, squeezing a thigh.
“I do not care about Lestat’s lecherous bandmates,” Armand sneers, his chest rumbling, kind of like a growling kitten. If that kitten was an apex predator.
“Okay,” Daniel says, disbelief evident in the lightness of his tone.
He chuckles a little as Armand latches onto his throat and sucks a dark mark against the skin— drawing the blood to the surface. Daniel’s voice staggers as he lets out a small noise of pleasure. Armand rewards him with the graze of his fangs against Daniel’s flesh.
“You really didn’t like that, huh?” Daniel mumbles out, grabbing on to Armand’s shoulders for stability.
“What?” Armand asks. His mouth moves against Daniel’s glistening skin.
“You didn’t like him seeing me, did you?” Daniel asks, voice almost teasing.
“No,” Armand admits. Head shyly resting on Daniel’s shoulder. He kisses the skin before drawing back and looking Daniel in the eye. Armand’s irises are just short of shaking, a rising fury threatening to erupt.
“No need to worry,” Daniel says, “you’ve got me all to yourself, sweetheart.” He squeezes Armand’s upper arms a bit in an attempt at reassurance.
“You did not read his mind.”
“No,” Daniel says, dumbly. He hadn’t thought to. It was just Salamander for crying out loud. The guy was kind of easy to read even if you didn’t possess the mind gift.
“His thoughts for you were quite loud. A vivid set of imagery.”
“Oh,” Daniel says, “really?” He’s not too surprised. Most people on the bus have already fooled around with each other (as was evident by the telltale lip sore passing from mouth to mouth). Daniel hadn’t been exempt from the fooling around (though he was grateful now more than ever that vampires couldn’t contract STDs).
“Would you like to know,” Armand leans in, breath ghosting Daniel’s ear, sending a chill up his already frigid body, “what he thought of you?”
The last lingerings of stolen blood rush to Daniel’s cheeks (that is whatever blood hadn’t already rushed to the lower half of his body). He swallows low.
“Nah,” he finally settles on, “I’m good.” He could imagine it just fine on his own. Salamander had a thing for blowies— getting em’, giving em’ likely due to an oral fixation made obvious by his constant vaping. He also liked being choked. That kind of thing.
“He wanted to, and I quote, ‘come all over your saggy old man tits,’” Armand supplies.
“Christ,” Daniel swears.
“Those were his words, not mine. Although the image was quite compelling,” Armand raises his brow in mild amusement, uses a nail to trace the gray hair across Daniel’s chest, “Evocative.”
“Yeah,” Daniel gulps out. He’s not sure he would have ever used that word to describe Salamander before. Evocative? Pffft. But Armand wasn’t wrong.
“You interested?” Daniel asks suddenly, looking coyly up at the other vampire. An innocent tilt to his head. “Wanna paint that picture?”
Armand freezes in place, eyes flicking up to Daniel’s face. Takes in his fledgling’s confident smirk, lets his own pupils enlarge at the suggestion.
“We will see,” Armand says, fighting to keep composure, “Though I may paint the picture in a different color than he imagined.”
Daniel’s breath hitches. The thought of a scarlet red splatter across his chest like a crime scene. Fuck, that just made him harder.
He aims for confidence but Daniel’s words come out warbled, “White is overrated anyway.”
Armand lets out a tiny snort of air, almost a laugh. Daniel grins wide. Amusing Armand was always a reward.
Daniel gets a sudden surge of urgency within him. Excitement and desire bubbling over inside. His hands fly to Armand’s pants, begin to pull on his belt. Armand’s hands meet his and help unloop the latch, drag the zipper down, peel the fabric over Armand’s toned thighs. A glorious display of muscle. Not excessive or overly lean. The elegant strength of a dancer. Dark hair on his legs. Daniel watches as Armand kicks his boots and socks off, throws them off into a random pile.
He can’t help but grab at Armand’s hips. Feeling the jut of muscle leading down to his groin on both sides, making a sexy ‘V.’ He brushes his fingers over the curl of black hair. Dips a nail into his bellybutton. Kisses one of his pronounced pecs before dropping to his knees.
There’s a faint splashing sound when Daniel makes contact with the ground, falling into a small puddle of water. He could care less though, because he’s finally getting the chance to bury himself between Armand’s glorious legs. He noses at the tender flesh there. Drags his fangs across the inside of a thigh. Kisses the top of Armand’s pubic bone. Breathes in the scent of him. Laps a tongue eagerly at that V of muscle.
An encouraging hand slides into Daniel’s hair and grips tight. Holding him in place with enough pressure to make Daniel moan. Armand makes such wonderful noises with each pass of Daniel’s lips. Beautiful sighs and guttural groans like Daniel is punching the sounds out of him.
Daniel can’t help but feel pleased. He still got it. He forgot how much he enjoyed this kind of thing, getting the chance to take his time. Sure, he could take and give it quick, rough, and hard— Developed a lack of gag reflex sometime in the mid 70s. But that was never about pleasure. At least not his pleasure. This on the other hand was nice. Getting to slowly run his hands over his lover’s thighs. Bite and tease. Kiss and lick his way across their skin. Take them apart slowly. Serve on his knees.
It made something tingle inside Daniel. It felt…good. He could take and give cruelty. Mindlessly chase his own pleasure. Mix the pain and lust together until he couldn’t think…but this…it feels like a return to something.
Even the thought of Armand looming over him, getting himself off…felt electrifying. He’s not sure he’d mind it, actually…watching Armand jerk off into his mouth. The passive nature of such an act. Staring up at Armand as he pleasured himself. Getting to watch that pretty chest heave and feel the flex of his thigh muscles under his fingers.
He’s whining where he’s pressed up against Armand’s leg. Pathetic and keening into the pleasure. Not exactly chasing a release but chasing something.
Daniel grabs out blindly for Armand’s spare hand which hangs clenched by his side— like he’s trying to restrain himself. And that won’t do.
He unfurls Armand’s fingers and guides them to the base of his dick. Uses both of their hands to stroke the velvet hardness. Flashes him a wicked smile from down on his knees, makes eye contact before holding his tongue out. He opens his mouth wide making sure his maker gets a clear view of his long fangs, sparkling white under the overhead fluorescents.
Armand makes a wounded noise, grips Daniel’s skull tenderly while his hips jerk forward. He watches as his own leaking tip makes contact with that sweet pink tongue so generously offered to him.
“Daniel,” he groans out and the call of his name from Armand’s throat has pride surging up Daniel’s spine. Melting his brain. Air escapes his nose in little huffs as he tries not to laugh. He feels pleased as punch to get to have Armand like this.
When Armand finally slides in, Daniel’s eyes nearly roll back in his skull at the sensation. A fullness moving toward the back of his throat. He hollows out his cheeks, presses his nose closer toward the curls between Armand’s legs. Tastes the bloody pre-cum on the divot of his tongue. Tries not to gag on the fullness, but there are still tears forming in his eyes. It’s been awhile.
“Oh,” Armand says, all small and stunned. His fingers curve down to the back of Daniel’s head, down to the nape of his neck. As his hips move forward he guides Daniel to meet him. Curls his nails into Daniel’s skin, sinks in.
Daniel moans helplessly at the first scent of his own blood and the vibrations from his mouth make Armand’s legs shiver in return. They go on like this, caught in a delicious, heated feedback loop.
When Armand’s breathing turns ragged, he pushes Daniel away. Daniel lets out a confused, upset noise, but is quickly rewarded by the striking image of Armand working himself in his hand mere inches from Daniel’s face. His hair is a mess, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded. Moving with a frantic fluidity that has Daniel entranced.
Armand takes a moment to brush a fallen dark curl out from his eyes and that new small peak of forehead shouldn’t be so damn sexy. But when it comes to Armand, it’s the small details that have Daniel salivating. It’s the way the bronze bangle on Armand’s wrist jingles as he works himself over the edge…that’s what has Daniel hard and pressed against Armand’s calf. He lolls his tongue out and shuts his eyes, embraces the warm splash against his cheeks, throat, and collarbones when Armand sputters his name out with one last feeble cry.
After Armand finishes across his face and chest (just as he promised), Daniel tries his best to keep the both of them upright, but Armand’s knees go weak. He sinks down. Kisses Daniel, licks his face clean, runs his hands through the stained chest hair.
He lays Daniel on the ground and Daniel lets him. Doesn’t protest when a knee pushes up between his legs, brushing against his perineum. An elegant hand curls around his length, the digits made wet and slick from the dregs of sudsy water and blood. The hand teases briefly, just holding him…feeling the weight, before moving in an upward, pumping motion. Daniel cries, back bumping into the soapy tiles below.
Armand kisses him deeply, lets Daniel grasp at him and hold onto his waist and shoulders. He lets him writhe on the wet floor. Lets him chant his maker’s name up into Armand’s hungry mouth. Cherishes each incoherent noise his boy makes. Kisses the side of Daniel’s face, watches his blissed out expression and lets it satiate something deep inside himself.
He needs Daniel to feel good. Needs to make him come all over his stomach. Needs to see red trickle down the stretch marks of Daniel’s upper thighs. Wants to see the pale gray hairs between his legs stain scarlet.
Armand never forgot Daniel but his hands seem to remember him best. They know where to tweak and pull on Daniel’s body to get him melting. Get him squirming and gasping Armand’s name. He takes delight in the way his boy calls to him, clings desperately to his body. And, oh…the way he begs.
“Armand, please,” Daniel gasps against Armand’s cheek, his hands scratching against Armand’s shoulder blades. Holding him close. “Baby.”
Daniel seems to favor that term of endearment in particular. Armand doesn’t mind. Tries not to let it send his brain back decades to motel room carpets or coffee shop terraces.
“Yes, Daniel,” he whispers into his lover’s ear. Answering the call. Yes, I’m your baby.
“Baby, please,” the man beneath him whimpers, cock pulsing in Armand’s unrelenting grip. He knows just how Daniel likes it. On the edge of too much. “Please.”
When he meets Daniel’s frantic, lust-drunk gaze he realizes something. Daniel wasn’t blindly calling out…he was asking for permission.
Oh, beloved. His beautiful boy was still there.
“Yes, Daniel,” he says again, voice soft if not a little detached, “yes, you may.”
Daniel’s face scrunches up, eyes squeezing shut, his arms wrap around Armand and tug him close. Head burying into Armand’s neck. A sharp prick. And then Daniel’s coming into Armand’s hand. His release pulsing up and hitting both of their stomachs.
Armand lets out a staggered gasp, relishes the feeling of Daniel’s teeth in his neck. Lets the heady loss of blood make his brain go numb. Moans happily into the press of his fledgling’s fangs and falls on top of Daniel’s soft but sturdy body.
He lets Daniel drink for perhaps longer than he should, but he’s willing to indulge his boy. He had been so good for him. Asking for permission…even if he took more than Armand initially expected. Still, in that moment his fondness for his boy overwhelmed any desire to punish him.
After detaching from Armand’s neck, Daniel goes slack. Almost unresponsive. Once they’ve spent a couple minutes laying there in silence, Daniel finally seems to come to.
“Boss,” he grumbles, threading a damp hand through the strands of Armand’s hair, “Want ya’ to go inside.”
Armand freezes in a sort of awe. No one has asked him to do that in a while. He never expected Daniel, as he knew him now, to so willingly admit such a desire. To admit it and to ask Armand so openly.
Armand recenters himself, letting out a shaky exhale. He leans into the soothing touch of Daniel’s nails running against his scalp.
“Beloved,” he starts, cradling Daniel’s wrist in his own shaky fingers, “I do not wish to harm you.”
“I like the pain,” his fledgling snaps back, hitting Armand with a dazed, cheeky look. His head lolls against the messy tiles of the tour bus shower as he looks up at his maker.
Armand shakes his head, fondly. Kisses Daniel at his temples and feels himself acquiesce.
“How about this, love,” Armand speaks against the shell of Daniel’s ear, “you get your fingers nice and wet,” he pauses, rubs Daniel’s hand into the blood and soap smeared across his stomach, “and you prepare yourself for me?”
Daniel lets out a clipped moan, head falling back a bit. He manages a small nod before doing exactly as Armand says. Just lets the older vampire lead his hand down between his legs.
Armand’s hand finds Daniel’s length that’s stirring back to life against his abdomen. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with determination to make sure his boy feels as good as possible through the prep. To find some way to blind him from the stretch and pain. It’s likely been a while since Daniel did this and while he knows his boy enjoys the rough edge of just too much…Armand cannot bear the thought of truly hurting him. So, he watches for the tiny micro expressions on Daniel’s face. Intends to fuck him through any discomfort.
“That’s it,” he encourages, feeling himself filling up against Daniel’s leg, “touch yourself for me.”
And Daniel moans fully at that. Peaking an eye open to look at the man on top of him.
“Can you take another?”
Daniel nods, dumbly. Lets Armand help him ease another finger in.
“Good,” Armand praises, and gives him more instructions as he continues to lazily pump Daniel through it.
At some point, when he’s three fingers in, Daniel stops and scrunches up his face like he’s in pain.
“Too much,” he winces out, “you’re killing me.” He speaks through gritted teeth and bats Armand’s hand away from his length and balls.
Armand almost laughs. Stops the motion with a quick squeeze and lays his palms on Daniel’s splayed thighs. Leans down to lick quickly at Daniel before drawing away— a bloody saliva strand connecting his tongue to the tip. Daniel whines, kicks at Armand’s side. Armand hums as a form of apology, licks his lips clean, and strokes his hands reassuringly up and down Daniel’s sides.
Daniel’s head falls back, slack in pleasure. And Armand watches the hypnotic pump of his fingers. Loves the way his nails gleam and glisten in the artificial light. Daniel whines and maybe Armand imagines going to kiss at Daniel’s knuckles as his fingers disappear and re-emerge.
When Daniel goes to put a fourth finger in, Armand swats him lightly away and slides his own slick finger in besides the three. And Daniel’s breath hitches as Armand sinks inside and helps open him up even more.
“Armand, please,” he moans, tugging his fingers out. Armand doesn’t need to be asked twice before he’s kissing Daniel on the mouth briefly before lining himself up. Teasing Daniel a bit with the tip. Then finally sinking into him, letting the hitched noises from Daniel even out. Giving him a moment. Pressing his forehead against Daniel’s. Letting his own low moan escape into Daniel’s mouth.
“Oh, Daniel,” he pants, “you feel so—” Armand gets carried away trying to control himself.
“Just,” Daniel swats at his back, halfheartedly, “get movin’.”
“Always so demanding,” Armand breathes out. He thrusts a bit with his hips, testing things out, and Daniel lets out the lowest most pitiful whine Armand has heard all night. Like he’s pulling the sound straight from Daniel’s gut.
“More,” Daniel garbles out, “A-Armand. More.”
And Armand obliges.
Daniel curls his legs around Armand’s back, presses in close. Briefly, Armand wonders if before his turning Daniel would have been able to hold this position for so long.
He would have loved to have gotten the chance to just work Daniel into the mattress, laying him out on his stomach, telling him to do nothing but relax and feel. Make sweet love to him. Watch as his dick made pitiful attempts to fill. Fuck him through it anyway. Play with that soft cock. Take him on his side. Kiss him deep. Weave his way into his malleable mind. Perhaps one day Daniel would humor him with a role-play.
Armand’s balanced on his knees with Daniel’s legs around his waist. Daniel’s upper back presses into the floor as his hips rest in Armand’s lap.
He leans up on his elbows to meet Armand for a kiss, but then Armand pushes him back down, steadying him with a hand splayed on his chest. Fucks into him, tilting Daniel’s hips up to take each thrust. Armand watches his love’s length bounce against his stomach with each new movement.
Armand draws him closer with an arm looped around Daniel’s torso, gets the other vampire to sit up in his lap— a supernatural feat of strength. Horribly impressive and Daniel moans a bit at being rag-dolled around.
Daniel’s hands find Armand’s shoulders, trailing one down Armand’s back. He grasps his hair with the other. Taking everything Armand gives him and watching Armand gaze up at him slack jawed, eyes clouded with lust. Panting upward into Daniel’s mouth.
He looks stunning. Incredibly handsome. More beautiful than Daniel can bear. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall backward. Feels Armand’s fingers threading through the strands at the base of his neck.
“You’re so—” Daniel pants the words out, starting to feel a strain in his calves, “so— beautiful.”
Armand’s pace stutters briefly. His hand clutches deep into the meat of Daniel’s side. His other set of fingers find Daniel’s own and lace them together. Squeeze tight. He nuzzles into the side of Daniel’s neck as if he could hide away there.
As if in response, Daniel places his spare hand on the crown of Armand’s head, kisses the top of his dark curls and mumbles curses against them. Lets out a litany of moans and cries of his maker’s name.
He doesn’t care if people outside the bus can hear. Doesn’t care if the whole world can hear, because even now there is silence. The rapture surrounding them, but all Daniel can focus on is the heady breath and wanton moans of the man under him. Pushing up and into him, holding him. Loving him. His chest feels impossibly full.
He’s suddenly hit with a thought: Once he comes he wants Armand to keep going. To use him.
Armand can’t read his mind anymore so he decides to voice his desires.
“D-don’t stop,” he staggers out, and Armand looks at him as if searching for the source of the sound. “Even if I…even when I…” he grips at himself where he’s leaking, pressed up between both of their bodies, “...just don’t stop, okay?”
Armand nods up at him. Eyes glazed.
Daniel ducks his head suddenly into the crook of Armand’s neck. As if he could hide away there.
“Just,” he whispers, “just promise to use me.”
Armand curses, but Daniel doesn’t recognize the word at first. His brain is too fuzzy. Was that French? Italian? Whatever it was, it was hot.
“Of course, beloved,” Armand finally manages to respond. “Of course.” He says it like the request was silly. Like there was never the need to ask.
“Want you to,” Daniel’s cut off by a shaky breath, “want you to feel good.” His brain is officially turning to mush. Armand is turning him to mush. “Make me feel so good. F-fuck. Baby,” and now he’s fully babbling and whining into Armand’s neck. Clutching around his shoulders in a grip he swears could bruise. Trying to meet each upward thrust but his legs feel like jelly.
“Promise you’ll come,” Daniel gasps against him, voice almost demanding, “Fucking promise.”
Armand’s chest is shaking and Daniel realizes he’s…laughing? Laughing at him like he’s gone mad. Like Daniel is hilarious.
Daniel pouts, fixing his maker with a petulant look, “It’s no good if you don’t come.”
Armand shakes his head in disbelief.
“Where do you want me, love?” he asks, chest suddenly feeling overwhelmingly full.
Daniel glares down at him, almost upset, borderline offended. Wasn’t the answer obvious?
“Inside.”
“Of course, greedy little thing.”
“Not little.”
“No?”
“No,” Daniel scowls, “Yours, though.”
“Mine?”
Daniel nods, grazing his fangs against Armand’s shoulder. Before he can sink his teeth in Armand gives a particularly strong thrust. It throws Daniel off balance and instead of slowing down Armand speeds up.
“Yours, yours, yours,” Daniel ends up babbling in Armand’s ear, his entire body jostling with each bounce. Armand grabs handfuls of the skin of his hips, holding him tight.
“I promise,” Armand says back, “But you first, beloved.”
That’s what starts the beginning of the end. Sends Daniel tumbling at full speed toward his inevitable peak. Sends pleasure jolting up through his body until he whites out a bit. Until he feels all high and floaty and oh so good and comes all over his stomach for the second time that night.
As promised, Armand keeps his word. He doesn’t stop even when the red of Daniel’s release drips between their bodies. He keeps his other promise too. Makes pretty moans into Daniel’s ear as he lets go and chases his own pleasure.
Daniel goes slack, let’s Armand take what he needs. Calls out to him in a rough, ravished voice as he watches Armand.
“Come on,” he says, eyelids fluttering, “Come on, Armand.”
Armand seems to react to his voice, jaw hanging slack at the sound. His unruly curls falling into his face, eyes blown wide.
Interesting.
Daniel lowers his voice to an even smoother, deeper intonation.
“So fucking good,” Daniel mutters, “so fucking pretty and good to me. Gonna come in me, sweetheart? Gonna make a mess of me like you said you would?” He keeps talking until his mouth feels dry. Fully lets the dirty thoughts flow out of him.
Armand scrunches his eyes shut, his fingers curl into Daniel’s shoulder blades. He lets out a wounded sound, says Daniel’s name one more time before crying out and filling Daniel up, pulsing inside. Just like he promised.
Armand collapses backward and Daniel falls down on top of him— making a very unsexy ‘Ooof’ sound. He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed before a set of arms hold him down tightly and a sharpness cuts into his neck. His mind fogs up and he can hear Armand loudly sucking his blood right next to his ear.
Oh fuck.
He can barely move his limbs but he can feel Armand inside him still. Keeping him full.
He mumbles out some sort of pitiful remark…maybe something close to ‘I love you’ before the tour bus starts to sway around him and everything goes blank.
~~~
He stirs back to consciousness in a cramped darkness. Armand is nuzzling his chest, brushing his nose up against Daniel’s chin. His maker lays on top of him like a protective blanket, interlocking their legs.
Daniel realizes faintly that his pants are back on along with his socks, boxers, and his comfy band tee. On top of him Armand is in his deep colored button-up and dress slacks. Daniel doesn’t feel sticky or crusty at all so Armand must have cleaned them up before putting them in here. A place he quickly recognizes to be a coffin. Judging by the distance and close proximity it’s likely Lestat’s coffin.
Oh boy. This would be fun to explain, but that was a problem for future Daniel. Current Daniel felt like being kind of a selfish asshole so he hunkers into the plush lining of the coffin and wraps his arms tightly around the body on top of him. Squeezes Armand even tighter just because he can.
~~~
When light finally hits Daniel’s face, he barely bothers cracking an eye open. Even the harsh, shrill sound of someone shouting at him can’t ruin Daniel’s post-coital nap.
“What the fuck!?” Lestat’s voice finally registers in Daniel’s brain, “In my coffin, really Dan? Is nothing sacred!?”
Daniel manages a garbled response. Gives Lestat a half-hearted middle-finger and the body on top of him bristles.
Armand actually starts hissing when he turns around to glare up at Lestat. His grip tightening around his fledgling.
A litany of swears in French from Lestat.
“Oh, great,” Lestat laments, “you invited the Gremlin. This really can’t get any better.”
Daniel finds a growl escaping his own throat. He flashes his fangs at the intruding party and lets out a gruff, “Fuck off, Lestat!”
“Fine, but I’m billing you for damages!” Lestat yells over his shoulder, clearly busy with other affairs.
“Piss off!” Daniel shouts back and shuts the coffin lid over them, enveloping the two re-united lovers in pure darkness.