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Armand sits in the back row, his unblinking eyes on Daniel as he taps on the microphone and introduces himself. A decent crowd has turned up for Daniel's reading. Armand lets the words wash over him, already familiar with the journalist's piece on crack addicts in Los Angeles from having read it in his recently published book of essays. He pays attention to Daniel's mannerisms instead, and lets his eyes wander over the hint of chest hair peeking out of his shirt. The crowd is partially the usual intellectuals with a hint of edge that enjoy Daniel's work, but in the second row off to the side is a small group of college-aged kids in fashionable clothes.
Two boys in denim, a girl in a floral dress and leather jacket, and a boy wearing a black shirt with an abstract pattern in greys and blues, tucked into fitted black jeans. He leans forward in his seat, paying close attention to Daniel. Armand taps into his mind.
Fuck, I think he looked at me.
I need him.
I swear he has to be gay, or at least a little bisexual…
Armand suppresses a smile. This could be an interesting evening.
The boy hangs around Daniel after the reading, acting nonchalant but dripping with desperation.
I bet his dick is big…
The intellectuals clear out and the remaining crowd moves to the bar across the road. Armand follows as inconspicuously as he can, lingering in the darkest corner.
Daniel downs drink after drink, eating up the attention from the college students and the other few hangers on.
Fuck it, I'm just gonna try. What do I have to lose?
The boy leans against the bar in a practised sort of manner clearly intended to be seductive. The artificiality of the posture doesn't seem to read as such to Daniel, who eagerly leans in and whispers something in the boy's ear. The boy's cheeks turn red. Armand is out of earshot but he reads it in Daniel's mind.
Meet me out front in five minutes.
While the boy has to speculate on what exactly Daniel has in mind, Armand can see it laid out in his mind in all its vulgarity. The boy on his knees, Daniel roughly fucking his face. The boy bent over as Daniel pounds him. Armand slips outside and waits in the shadows, sees the boy standing sheepishly under a street lamp. Daniel appears not long after, behind the wheel of a nondescript grey rental car. He motions for the boy to get in, and he does.
Armand floats up and follows them to Daniel's hotel. Curious that Daniel takes the boy there, as he is usually hesitant to go for something as intimate as a hotel room rendezvous with a male partner. The last three gay encounters Armand was privy to took place in bar backrooms and public toilets. Armand feels his blood buzz with excitement as he pictures himself floating up to a nearby roof and finding a spot for a perfect view into the room, witnessing Daniel fucking this stupid boy senseless.
He lands in a shadowy corner opposite the hotel's front entrance, but slips into the underground parking lot when Daniel and his boy haven't appeared in the lobby after a few minutes.
He reads it in Daniel's mind before he even locates the car.
Too risky to take this inside, what if someone recognises me from that TV appearance last month? Better to do it right here in the car. Eliminates the chance of the boy wanting to stick around afterwards too…
Armand spots the car, and slots into a dark corner with a perfect view through the side windows. Daniel leaning back in the driver's seat, the boy leaning over him sucking him off. Daniel has his hands in the boy's hair, guiding his head up and down. Armand feels his fangs drop and his cock harden. He taps into the boy's thoughts, but there is no coherence there. Just blind lust for Daniel's cock, a craving to take him deeper.
The boy comes up for air and Daniel rubs his thumb over his swollen mouth. The gesture sends a shiver up Armand's spine, and he closes his eyes and bites into his own wrist. He takes a mouthful of blood and swallows before licking the small wounds closed. His cock is throbbing.
When he opens his eyes he sees Daniel and the boy standing by the open boot of the car. Daniel flattens the backseat and the boy climbs in on all fours, pulls down his trousers. Daniel spits on his hole as he unzips his jeans, and then starts fucking him hard and rough with no reservations.
Armand resists the temptation to start touching himself, reads Daniel's mind and finds it essentially blank. The boy's mind is clouded with lust, white hot desire to get fucked.
Armand watches as Daniel shoves the boy's head down and keeps fucking him harder and harder, like he's trying to hurt him. The boy moans so loudly that anyone walking in could hear it. Every time Daniel roughly pulls his hair or manhandles him, Armand feels the boy's arousal only increasing until he comes untouched with a loud whine. Daniel keeps fucking him until he comes inside him, and then unceremoniously zips up and exits the car.
The boy is still shoving his patterned button up shirt back into his jeans when Daniel says “See ya later, kid,” and disappears into the staircase.
Armand witnesses the boy standing by the car, coming down from his sex high and realising he's now alone in a dark car park by a random hotel. Armand follows him up the stairs, into the lobby where Daniel is nowhere to be seen by now. The boy stumbles into the hotel bar, orders a glass of red wine in another pathetic attempt to seem sophisticated and sits down on a large soft sofa. Armand reads his mind.
Maybe Professor Molloy will come down to the bar. I can see the door from here so I would be able to spot him right away. I will just explain to him that I'm obviously not looking for anything serious, and then maybe he'll want to see me again.
Armand feels a twinge of sympathy for this poor delusional boy. He waits in the lobby and lets him stew in his anxious misery for another twenty minutes before he makes his entrance.
The boy notices him right away, and Armand reads him thinking gay guy ambiently as the boy looks him up and down from the corner of his eye.
Armand walks up to him, "Can I take this seat?"
The boy nods uneasily.
"You looked like you could use a friend," says Armand.
The boy smiles faintly, "I guess so."
"Boy troubles?" asks Armand.
"How did you know?"
"I have a sense for things like that."
"I was supposed to meet my boyfriend here but he's late," says the boy.
Armand cringes at the lie. He reaches out to take the boy's hand, the boy lets it happen.
"You went to see Mr Molloy's reading, and then you briefly talked to him afterwards. He was friendly and charming and you had a little crush on him. He mentioned his pregnant wife and you figured he was letting you down gently. You got into a cab and went home."
The boy's eyes glaze over a little.
"Can you repeat that for me?" says Armand, and the boy nods.
The boy's mind is vulnerable enough that it only takes two more repeats for the rewrite to stick.
"Let's get you home safe," says Armand, walking him to the front desk. He meekly gives his address to the woman at the front desk, and Armand waits with him to put him in the taxi.
"This cab left straight from the bar, didn't it?"
The boy nods as he gets in.
Armand finds Daniel's floor and floats up the building across the road to get a peek into his window. He's lying on the bed flicking through the channels on the tv, taking the occasional swig from a small vodka bottle from the minibar. Armand feels a little thrill when Daniel eventually gets up to take off his clothes and slips naked under the covers, but then there's nothing more to see.
Armand returns to the room he's staying in, in the hotel down the street from Daniel's.
He lays down on top of the bed, closes his eyes to reach out to Louis across the distance.
"Louis... are you busy?"
Louis responds quickly, and there's a warmth to his voice that puts Armand at ease, "Not too busy, baby. How's... where are you again?"
"Atherstone, Massachusetts. In my room in the Holiday Inn now. Do you want to hear about my observations?"
Armand really hopes Louis is in the mood to hear about this one, but he always treads carefully.
"Yeah go on, tell me."
"I witnessed Daniel's reading. His public speaking has improved so much since the last time, although the volume of his alcohol intake may have had an impact on his confidence. He read his piece about the LA crack epidemic, it went over well. A few of his students were in attendance."
"Is that all?" says Louis, clearly sensing something more exciting is to come.
"Oh no," Armand continues, "after the reading, one of the students took a great interest in Daniel. He was maybe twenty one years old, a beautiful boy with one of those fashionable shaggy haircuts down to his shoulders. I saw them talking for only a few moments; the boy was obviously pathetically desperate for it. But I could read that Daniel was very attracted to him. Daniel drove him back to his hotel, and I was surprised it wasn't going to be another dark alley encounter."
Louis makes an encouraging noise, "Go on..."
"I found a good observation spot in the garage under the hotel, and in the time it took for me to get there Daniel already had the boy with his head in his lap in the front seat."
"Tell me what you saw," says Louis.
Armand feels the heat creep up his body, "The boy was taking him deep, clearly a practised cocksucker."
"Oh yeah?" says Louis, his voice lowering.
Armand takes a deep breath, "Daniel had his hands in his hair, manhandled him a fair bit."
"Hmm," says Louis, "then what? Did he finish in his mouth?"
"Oh no," says Armand, "he got him on all fours in the back."
"Damn... Daniel was really going for it like that."
"He fucked him hard and rough. I read the boy's mind throughout, and he loved it. Craved it. Loved to be taken without a shred of care. He came without a touch, just from Daniel's relentless pounding. Can you believe that?"
Louis lets out a half chuckle, "Yeah, I'm familiar with that sort of reaction, baby."
Armand laughs too, "I miss you Louis, I want you so badly."
"Do you want me? Or do you wish you were this boy, getting fucked by Professor Molloy?"
"I did want that, in that moment. I wanted to be in his place."
"What did the boy look like? Did he look like you?" Louis asks.
"Maybe a little. He had brown skin, dark silky hair," says Armand. The boy didn't resemble him as much as some of Daniel's earlier conquests, to be fair. "But now I want only you, maitre... please..."
"Are you still dressed?" asks Louis, "Take off your clothes."
Armand unbuttons his shirt, making sure to transmit a mental image to Louis of his buttons opening one by one, his chest revealed. Then he opens his slacks, lets them drop to the floor and steps out of them.
"Your underwear too, Arun," says Louis, and Armand strips it off. He resists the urge to palm himself just yet.
Louis's voice has taken on the forceful tone that drives Armand wild. "Have you been hard the whole time? Since you were in that parking lot?"
"Yes maitre... I was waiting for this... for you..."
"Don't touch yourself yet, not like that. Spread your legs."
Armand groans and obeys, awaiting further instructions. He sends Louis another visual, his cock, hard and leaking, his legs opened to display his hole.
"I'm not in the mood to be cruel like Mr Molloy," says Louis. "If I was there I would take my time with you, lick you real good until you open right up for me."
Armand is panting, aching to finally be allowed a touch, "Please..."
"Bite into your wrist. Get the blood all over your fingers, put two inside yourself at once."
Armand moans hard and does as he's told. Punctures his vein with his fangs, sucks out a mouthful of blood and lets it drip out of his mouth over his fingers.
Louis clearly loves the visual he's just received, of Armand's mouth, chin and hand covered in his own blood. Armand hears his breathing speed up.
Armand touches his hole, relaxes around the intrusion as he pushes his two fingers inside. He moans obscenely to let Louis know what he's doing.
"Are you touching yourself, maitre?" he asks as he fucks himself.
"Yes, I'm so fucking hard for you baby..." Louis sighs.
"I wish you were here, I wish I was taking your cock..."
"You're going to have to add another two fingers to better imagine that's what's inside you," says Louis, so Armand does.
The stretch feels delicious, and his cock leaks another spurt of blood on his stomach.
Armand fucks himself with his four fingers, encouraged by Louis' intermittant little moans and sighs.
"How would you want to take me, maitre, if you were here?" he asks.
"First I would have you like you're lying now, on your back with your legs wide open for me," says Louis, "I would put my hand around your neck, make sure you know who you belong to. Then maybe I would flip you over, give it to you nice and rough from behind after all. Is that what you want, Arun?"
"Yes, maitre... anything you want. You can do anything you want."
"Stroke yourself, Arun. Come for me," says Louis. Armand can hear in his voice that he's very close. He pictures Louis in their bedroom in NYC, lying on their bed or maybe their couch. He probably didn't even fully get undressed, just took out his cock. He pictures his hand around his hard cock, pictures the beads of blood at the tip.
Armand finally puts his free hand around his cock and moans in relief as he starts stroking himself.
"I'm gonna come, baby," Louis moans, followed by a deep groan.
The sound pushes Armand over the edge and he spills blood over his fist, clenching around his other hand.
They both breathe through the aftershocks, sharing a not uncomfortable silence for a moment.
Armand feels it creeping in at the edges of his mind, the fear that Louis will suddenly turn cold afterwards. But Louis laughs warmly, "That was good, I needed that."
Armand smiles, "Me too. I love you. I'll be back tomorrow."
"I love you too. Sleep well later."
Armand washes off the blood in the shower, puts his clothes back on and leaves the room. He wanders through the endless corridors of the hotel, listening to the voices and thoughts in the rooms. A family of three, sleeping soundly. A woman dreaming of her lover at home. Two men on a work trip, sharing a bed as the room next door stays empty. Then he finds what he's looking for. Loneliness, a wish for a way out. A middle aged man tired of trying and failing. He puts his hand on the door, wills the lock to open. The man only wakes up as Armand sits on his bed, the scream he wants to let out dies in his throat as the vampire puts his hand on his chest.
"Rest. Everything is fine, you can rest now."
The man sits up and starts to cry, puts his head on Armand's shoulder. Armand sinks in his fangs.