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armand

[armand]

Daniel, historically speaking, is terrible at this. He'd been a shitty boyfriend, and then a shitty husband; dates were either the standard dinner and a movie, or more likely, centered around whatever story he was chasing.

The only time in his life that he suspects he might have been any good at romance is the part of his life that's been erased, and no shortage of irony here, by the vampire he's trying to woo tonight.

(He's aware he should give more of a fuck about that, but he just doesn't.)

So he asks Armand to meet him at the Boardwalk, and he uses the power of technology and anonymous dating apps to arrange dinner later, and even though he's got Armand's blood in his veins, he's a little nervous. What memories he's recovered, his turning-- it's not just his health that's returned and sharpened. An emotional component exists, the return of feelings he thought he'd been too cold and truth focused to feel.

Turns out he was just missing most of his heart.

Leaning against the railing, listening to the ocean, he decides not to lead with that.

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"There's my overachiever," Daniel says, too wrapped up in afterglow, at this moment, to worry about whether he does want to use whips and chains. "I was going to say it's just the old caveman urges, but I don't know, is that a vampire thing? The part where I just want to haul you off, away from prying eyes, and fuck you with my teeth in your neck, or the part where I also want every person we pass to know you're mine and I'm yours."

Either's good.

He does catch Armand's drift, fingers wrapping loosely around the graceful column of his maker's neck. "Is that something you'd like? You'd be fucking gorgeous, like always," he muses. "I admit my thoughts were running towards leaving the biggest, darkest hickeys you can leave on a vampire. Which probably isn't much."

"You were equally possessive of me during your mortal days. Perhaps not to the same degree," Armand must confess, "but I would catch your eye when others were near me. I could see the way your lovely jaw clenched," he murmurs, as he strokes Armand's jaw, fondly staring at him.

He did so enjoy those days, but he loves these even more now that Daniel wants him so obsessively. It makes Armand feel that he's not alone in his feelings.

"You could buy me a collar," Armand suggests. "Something that only you would know is a collar. Something that meant I belonged to you. I do, after all, don't I?"

"Well, it's good to know I'm consistent," Daniel informs him. "You are totally gonna get some human killed by playing me like a jealous fiddle, and I-- I'm gonna let you, we both know I am."

He kisses Armand, harder, with more teeth.

"I like the sound of that," he admits, his first thought of a simple black band around that slim neck, an image that makes his cock twitch. A rumble, not quite a growl, escapes him before he can even recognize it.

"Yeah," he agrees, and vampire refractory periods must be non-existent, he's realizing. "Yeah, you belong to me. I've been hunting you without even knowing it, so much of my life, and now I've got you. You're mine."

Daniel stands, pulling Armand up with him, and then picks him up, heading for the bedroom, crashing their mouths together, fierce and messy.

"Beloved, when you kill your first human for me, I won't let you out of bed for days," Armand guarantees, his voice low as he imagines the passion, the feral possession, and the claim that someone would have to show for him. Louis had done it for Claudia, Lestat for Nicki, but who has ever done that for him?

Daniel, perhaps, but Armand wants to see it happen.

"You fell into our trap, but you could have flown away. We released you," Armand murmurs, wrapping his arms around Daniel's neck to kiss him heatedly, a guttural sound of pleasure as Daniel lifts him. "Look at you, so powerful," is an interjection, before he returns to his memories. "And yet, the fly came back to the spider, again and again, wanting to be eaten alive."

A tiny part of him wants to tease Armand for getting off on being hauled around, but he can't deny he's just as into it. Having a working body again does that.

"What, you're telling me I continued to come back to something that could kill me at any moment, with absolutely no regard for my own sanity or safety? Babe, that doesn't sound like me," he teases, and once in the bedroom, bears Armand down to the bed.

He straddles Armand's hips, pinning him to the bed, taking a moment to just look-- and then he's descending on his maker once more, a bruising kiss and a broad hand sliding down to find his cock.

Forget the drugs that Daniel had run to so frequently throughout his life. The use of 'babe' so swiftly after Daniel's display of his strength sends a bolt of arousal through Armand so swiftly, so powerfully, that he's grateful he's not standing or his knees might buckle beneath him.

"You truly always were an addict," Armand muses, but not in an accusatory manner so much as a fond one. Easy to say when you're the drug in question.

He lies back, gaze hooded and dark as he regards Daniel above him, whining softly into the kiss as Daniel takes hold of him. "I've always loved your hands," he murmurs into the kiss. "Watching you smoke was a divine experience."

"Is that so," Daniel murmurs, delighted, stroking him slowly. "You know, I could take it back up. Not like it's going to kill me anymore."

He's had the same thought about other vices, but as far as he knows, it'd require roping in some mortal addict-- something he's not ready for yet. Yet being the operative word, and likely to disappear in the near future.

"Nothing's gonna kill me anymore, thanks to you." He kisses Armand again, bites his lip, and then slowly eases himself down, still stroking his cock as he drags his mouth along his stomach, his hip, inside his thigh.

Armand, who still smokes regularly for the habit, makes a pleased noise of agreement. "By all means, do steal my cigarettes," is a heady endorsement, biting his lip as he arches his hips into Daniel's touch, breathing harder for his mouth along bare skin.

"No one will harm you," Armand vows. "No human, no vampire, nothing in between. I will not let anything take you from me, not the way my maker was ripped from me."

His lashes flutter against his cheeks, parting his thighs slightly wider, hoping desperately for Daniel's teeth to sink in and make their mark.

The way my maker left me.

There's a loaded phrase if he ever heard it, and it speaks to some level of devotion that Daniel simply lets it be. For now.

"Hey, I'm not letting anyone take you from me, either," he says, words humming into Armand's thigh. He looks up, pressing his mouth there once more, openly admiring how fucking pretty a face looks back-- and then he sinks his teeth in, letting the heady taste of blood fill his mouth.

And oh, isn't that what Armand wants so desperately to have proven. That someone wants him. That someone will go to unseen and unheard of lengths in order to secure his safety. If only Daniel had been around five centuries ago.

Perhaps Arun would have stood a chance.

"That's it," he praises instead of wallowing, hand in Daniel's hair as he drinks from his thigh, a delicately indelicate place that has Armand grinning with dark glee. "How do I tasted, beloved?"

Daniel looks up at him with a wild light in his eyes, blood on his lips and teeth. "You taste fuckin' incredible and you know it," he says, tonguing the punctures he'd made, lapping inelegantly. "Makes me wanna go back in time to pull Louis off your neck."

He indulges in another drink, pulling with the whole of his mouth until he's almost sated. Slicing his tongue on a fang, he takes the time to seal the holes before he turns his face, blood-hot lips against Armand's cock.

"I have to admit, I'm torn between whether I want to blow you or whether I want to eat you out so I can fuck you."

"Honey and pineapple?" is a lazy tease, a fond smile attached to those words as Daniel tidies him up -- a small kindness that has Armand genuinely adoring him even more. He's taken note that Armand likes to be tidy and put-together and is helping to ensure that he can be.

He's so terribly good for Armand, and Armand is going to fight viciously to keep it -- which will likely be his own downfall, but he won't acknowledge that.

"Why not be greedy?" he asks, gripping Daniel's chin as he holds him there, eyes wide as can be. "You always have been an overachiever, have you not?"

"That's definitely one word for it," Daniel says, ducking his head and opening his mouth to catch Armand's thumb. "Overachieve, over-indulge, overcompensate."

A black hole, always seeking more.

He drags his teeth along the pad of Armand's thumb, and returns to his thigh, this time pressing a reverent kiss there. "So I can have whatever I want," he muses, broad hand circled around Armand's cock, stroking slowly as he encourages his hips up. "Spread wider, baby, knees up."

He takes a moment to admire the tight right of muscle before he's dragging his tongue across, rumbling deep his chest with satisfaction.

Armand's gaze slides to Daniel's cock, lifting a brow with great respect. "My darling boy, you never had to overcompensate for that," is a pointed and smug reply, having been the one on the receiving end -- or simply being able to watch while Armand sent lovers to Daniel's bed to be pleasured.

Would he be willing to do that again? The thought is a tempting one, he can't lie.

He spreads, opens wide, and lifts his knees, humming softly, and it's lovely, it is, but: "I do believe you once said you could be on your knees for me in a second," is a pedantic reminder. "And while the bed is lovely, I do wonder what you would look like, worshipping a god."

It's a strange position to realize it, but Daniel understands, under Armand's praise, that he hadn't really been joking. Overcompensating for the black hole inside him, maybe, but on a level bigger than doing every drug off every dick he ever met. No, the overcompensation had been in the marriages, the family he hadn't taken seriously enough-- trying to make up for the fact that he'd never get what he'd really wanted.

It's not the time to bring it up, even if he knows it must play across his face for a second or two.

He's grateful when Armand gives him an order to follow, as lovely and arch as it is. "Yeah," he says, hoarse and happily overwhelmed, scrambling off the bed and onto his knees, folding up in a way that feels familiar-- even if he can't remember.

It's times like these that Armand viciously misses his ability to read Daniel's mind. Something clearly goes through it, but Armand can't tell what it is and he has no power to be able to soothe it or make it go away.

He's lost his control.

And yet, luckily, Daniel is quickly on his knees and all other thoughts flit away like migrating birds for Armand as he stands, smugly, and digs his fingers into Daniel's hair, looking down on him as he cocks his head to the side. "Would you have gone straight to sucking me?" he asks, calm and poised despite the dirty words. "I know what you did in the years after, but I wonder, what strategy a desperate man would have taken."

Despite the tremor working its way down his spine at the visceral reminder of that night, Daniel feels his mouth tug up in a smirk. "Like a vacuum, baby. And I'm not going to pretend I wouldn't have liked it."

Greedily, he pushes his head into Armand's elegant fingers.

"Or that I haven't thought about it since I remembered that night." He scoots forward, thinking about what that dumb kid would have done. Reach into the slutty past, he tells himself, and leaning forward, he takes Armand's cock into his mouth, sucking in as much as he thinks he can take.

It's been a while since he had regular practice.

"I believe I'd broken at least two of your ribs," Armand muses, and yet, he still believes his beloved boy would do exactly that. Rest on his knees to prove his worth. And yet, Armand shouldn't push, but he wonders:

"What would you have told yourself after?" he asks, breathless already as he rocks his hips forward. "After you'd taken me deep, after I had come in your mouth," he's narrating at this point, "After we had disposed of you, after Louis had convinced me not to drain you, would you have returned home and thought of me? The taste on your lips? Perhaps I would have let you keep that memory."

His rambling isn't to say Daniel isn't doing a wonderful job. He's absolutely amazing, but Armand has extensive practice focusing.

"And who was it before me?" he murmurs. "Whose cock was last in my beloved boy's mouth?"

Daniel pulls off with a satisfying noise (at least to his ears), but it's a hell of question to consider in the middle of a blowjob.

It doesn't feel strange at all.

"If you'd let me remember any of it," he says, wrapping his hand around the base of Armand's cock, pumping slowly, "I would have taken about forty-eight hours to freak out, and then I would have come looking for you. You know my level of self-preservation."

It occurs to him that Armand does know, knows how he'd fought that sweet, numbing rest.

"I never got his name," he says, with complete honesty. "We didn't even leave the bar. And there wasn't anyone after you." Again, truth.

Daniel would have chased him for his own curiosity -- which is telling, because it had taken Armand only a week to do the same. True, he hadn't decided yet if he'd wanted Daniel dead, but his fascination had driven him to seek him out again.

And now, look where that's brought them. "Your level of self-preservation delivered you to me, as a gift," he praises. "You couldn't leave Louis' invitation alone, and now look at you, on your knees for me again."

His eyes flick over Daniel's face as he cradles his chin, gentle and fond. "There could be, if you'd like," he says. "One of my greatest enjoyments has been watching you in the pleasure of others."

"You know, I'm starting to question how much you actually want me to blow you," Daniel informs him, still stroking lazily. "Were you always this much of a talker?"

But Armand's hand is gentle on his face, and if he's any judge of his own expression, he's sure it's besotted.

"Honestly, babe, I just want you."

"You fascinate me. I always want to know more," is a truth that's been accurate as much in this moment as it had been fifty years ago. And yet, the slow pleasure is also a wonderful boon for him, as he leans his head back, allowing the pleasure waves to begin cresting.

"And you have me," he's happy to report, biting his lip as Daniel works him. "Now, if you're so fussed about talking, I'll save my questions for later, when your mouth isn't hard at work."

He tips his head forward, with an encouraging nod. "Go on."

They're both talkers, is maybe a fairer assessment, as Daniel opens his mouth for any number of replies:

You fascinate me too, the feeling's mutual.

My mouth is always at work.

He silences them all by doing exactly what he's told, some part of him grateful for the instruction posed as permission, or the permission posed as instruction. His open mouth sinks down, taking as much as he can without having to test if he redeveloped a gag reflex or not.

Once he's sure that Daniel is focused on his task, Armand allows that last vestige of a mask to fall away. He trusts his fledgling, and he adores him. He loves him desperately, and yet, there are layers of protection that Armand has in place that he's not sure he'll ever be able to truly do away with.

Not until he's convinced that he's safe, that someone could want him as he is.

Every day with Daniel, he feels it's getting closer. "That's it," he coaxes, voice soft and soothing. "Like honey on your tongue," he teases, unable to help himself. "And like a warm bath for me."

Some tiny part of Daniel considers pulling back off to snark about the teasing. It's easily overruled by the rest of him, the feeling of having done this before but without an accompanying memory, by the connection that's their bond. Armand might as well be honey on his tongue, his voice filling Daniel's head as his cock fills Daniel's mouth.

He looks up, wanting to see Armand's face, those preternaturally vivid eyes watching him-- wanting to be praised, wanting to be used, wanting to be loved.

It had to have been like that, before, because it's like that now, his hands coming up to hold Armand's hips for balance, to take more of him, just to touch more of him.

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