Archive of Our Own

Daniel felt like a total idiot. 

Armand had told him he should be taking baby steps. Just 30 seconds to a minute of direct sunlight the first time, then right back inside. Wait 24 hours, then try again. Rinse and repeat, adding half a minute each day. They had eternity so there was no need to try and rush through it. No need to take unnecessary risks.

But once Daniel had gotten over his fear of bursting into flames, shuffled into the daylight (with Armand holding both of his hands) and not actually burst into flames... Well, he’d immediately gotten overconfident, hadn’t he?

He was Daniel Molloy, Son of Armand, only three years in the Blood and already making the nearest star his bitch.

“That’s enough for now,” Armand had said, gently the first time.

“Nah, I can do a little longer.”

“I said that’s enough.”

“I can do longer.”

“Daniel.”

“I don’t feel a thing!”

“The pain will come later, like it does with human sunburns. You’ll regret this within the hour.”

“I’m fine, dad,” Daniel had insisted, over and over. Until his skin had started to tingle and Armand had physically dragged him back into the shade.

Of course Armand had been right.

And now Daniel looked like a buttered lobster.

The buttered lobster of fledgling hubris and ridiculous tan lines.

It wasn’t a good look, and not just in terms of how it literally looked. The world didn’t need more reasons to think Daniel Molloy, the once great journalist, was losing it in his twilight years. Insisting vampires were real, falling asleep on tanning beds, potentially dating a controversially younger-looking man.

It fucking hurt, too. It was at least a second-degree sunburn. Daniel’s cheeks were already starting to swell and two – no, three – blisters were forming on his forehead.

“You’re such an asshole,” Daniel told his reflection in his bathroom mirror.

At least it was only his head, neck and hands that were affected. Daniel pulled down the collar of his T-shirt to confirm that the skin on his chest was still, thankfully, the color of uncooked chicken.

Armand appeared in the door opening behind him. Daniel hadn’t felt or heard him coming, but he could see him in the mirror.

“There you are,” Daniel said, turning around to face him. He didn’t say, “I thought you’d bailed on me again,” but the implication was there. It always was. Because the fear was always there, whenever Armand left Daniel’s sight.

Daniel still didn’t think he had any ‘transformational trauma’, as Lestat called it, but Armand doing a post-partum runner had definitely left Daniel with some abandonment issues, and he felt weirdly relieved every time Armand showed back up.

“I have purchased you some after sun lotion,” Armand said. He held up an expensive-looking white plastic tube.

“I’m allergic to aloe,” Daniel said automatically. 

He’d found that out the hard way, when he’d fallen asleep on the beach in the early nineties and the after sun gel Alice had gotten him had made the pain so much worse.

“I know.”

“Right.”

Of course Armand would know. He had been Daniel’s stalker for 52 years. Lurking in the bushes every time Daniel walked into CVS. Which was still a whole lot for Daniel to try and wrap his head around.

“This one has other ingredients. All natural, perfume-free,” Armand said. “The saleswoman assured me this was the best product the market has to offer, but I’ve also brought some alternatives. In case this one doesn’t agree with you.” He lifted his other hand a little, showing Daniel the small tote bag that was in it.

Daniel held out his own hand for the tube. “Thanks.” He looked down at the ingredient list on the back of the tube for a second, but didn’t actually register any of the ingredients. 

“I feel so dumb,” he admitted, looking back up at Armand.

“You should be proud.”

Daniel snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“You should,” Armand insisted. “A lesser vampire would be dust. Almost any other vampire would be dust. You are only...”

“Medium rare?” Daniel suggested with a sardonic smile.

“Lightly seared,” Armand corrected. He smiled, too, but not sardonically. His smile was so genuine and radiant Daniel had to look away before he did or said or felt something he’d promised himself he wouldn’t.

Armand was growing on Daniel at an alarming speed, and Daniel wasn’t prepared to accept or unpack that just yet, so he did the only thing he could in that moment: snort again and deflect.

“Would you still love me if I was a slab of Wagyu beef?” Daniel asked.

Which backfired spectacularly, because while Armand might have been an iPad kid, he wasn’t exactly up-to-date with meme culture.

“I would love you if you were a tin of Spam,” Armand said, completely seriously, and apparently going for the least fancy meat product he could think of. “I would love you if you were dust. I will love you until the heat death of the universe, and beyond.”

Yeah, okay, so maybe asking the obligate carnivore prone to obsession who claimed to be in love with you and constantly looked at you like he was going to eat you alive if he’d still be into you if you were a literal piece of meat wasn’t the best strategy.

“I was, uh, kidding,” Daniel said lamely.

“I wasn’t.” Armand’s eyes were bright orange and looked close to vibrating.

“I know. Uh.” Daniel had to look away again, just for a second.

“That was too intense,” Armand said, frowning slightly. 

“It was pretty intense, yeah.”

Armand’s eyes dimmed, the irises turning almost brown. “It’s something I’ve been working on. Being less intense.”

“No, I mean...” 

Daniel had no idea how he was going to finish that sentence. ‘It’s nice having the stalker who killed me in my apartment 24/7, bringing me skincare products and telling me he’ll love me until the end of the world’? He’d need at least a few more years until he was ready to admit that even to himself, let alone say it out loud. He just knew he didn’t like how crestfallen Armand had looked just now.

The silence between them stretched out uncomfortably.

They just stood there looking at each other, holding their breath.

Armand was the one who broke them out of it.

“I’ll leave you with these,” he said. He put the little drugstore tote bag onto the bathroom cabinet and turned to walk towards the living room.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“It doesn’t look any better”, Daniel said as he walked out of the bathroom in his T-shirt after slathering himself in the most expensive of the lotions Armand had bought him. All it had done was make him look slightly more moist.

Armand was sitting on the sofa. He looked like he belonged there, which should probably bother Daniel more than it did. Armand put aside his iPad and uncrossed his legs. “Does it feel any better?” he asked.

“A little?”

Daniel wasn’t sure. He felt a little less hot but that might just be because they had cranked the AC all the way up.

“It will take a while. Burns like these can take up to twenty-one days to heal in mortals. You’ll feel much restored after a good day’s sleep.”

Daniel plunked himself down on the sofa with a huff. He didn’t want to have to wait until tomorrow to feel better. 

“You still have a little white behind your ear,” Armand said.

Daniel felt behind the ear in question.

“A little further back – no. Allow me.” Armand reached out with a single finger and gently rubbed the small blob of lotion Daniel had missed into Daniel’s skin.

Daniel’s breath hitched. Just a little, but no doubt enough for Armand to notice, and he winced when Armand pulled back his hand.

“You’re hurting,” Armand said. It wasn’t a question.

“It’s my own damn fault,” Daniel replied, which wasn’t a denial. 

“So you deserve to suffer?”

“No. I mean... Ugh.” Daniel let his head fall back so he was slumped on the sofa like a mopey teenager. He felt like a mopey teenager a lot these days. 

The corners of Armand’s mouth quirked up, like Daniel’s demeanor was both endearing and entertaining. 

“Ugh,” Daniel repeated dramatically. Not at Armand, but at the situation. He couldn’t believe his first daywalking lesson had been such a bust.

Armand looked down at his own hands. He was fidgeting with them, rubbing his forefingers with his thumbs. “There is a simple way to speed up your recovery,” he said, his intonation rising slightly towards the end of the sentence.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Armand ran a finger down the side of his own neck, then up the inside of his own wrist. There could be no mistake as to what miracle cure he’d meant; blood. An ancient vampire’s blood. His blood.

Fuck.

Daniel straightened up and asked, slowly, “Are you really offering the relapsed junkie something that’s better than black tar heroin multiplied by the number of miles to the rings of Saturn and back?”

The main problem was, of course, that the relapsed junkie really, really wanted to take him up on that offer. He wanted blood all the time, fledgling appetite and all that, and he indulged that craving liberally, but that was just human blood. The idea of tasting Armand's blood – old, powerful blood, the blood that had made him... Daniel had to fight the urge to drop his fangs right then and there.

“I’m offering my fledgling a way to heal faster,” Armand corrected, somewhat stiffly. “It doesn’t have to mean more than that.”

Daniel swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in his mouth. “Yeah, it’s going to mean more than that. You don’t do casual, Armand. Not once you decide love is involved.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Of course it was. Daniel lashed out when he felt threatened – scared. It was almost compulsive at this point.

Armand’s mood-ring eyes flashed to Cheeto orange. “My love for you isn’t something I decided on, Daniel. It took me wholly by surprise. It took me...quite some time to accept the fact that it was love. As you know, taking a mortal lover goes against everything I believed in.”

Right. Because no one in their right mind would love Daniel on purpose. It was only something people did against their better judgement.

“I understand you might need a similar period of adjustment.” 

Armand looked away from Daniel after he said that. There was a certain air of resignation about him, but Daniel could tell Armand was pissed off. Hurt.

Goddammit.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “That was...”

It was fucking awkward, is what it was. 

And why did Daniel care so much about hurting – or rather, not hurting – Armand’s feelings, anyway? He’d said much worse to him in the past. In Dubai. At the bowling alley, when Armand had tried to read him his Step 9 apology letter (which Daniel still hadn’t heard the rest of, by the way).

He had every right to be pissed off at Armand, to doubt his whole ‘It was love’ spiel, but a couple of weeks of the Good Nurse Apology Package and Daniel was folding like a cheap lawn chair. Or close to folding. He wasn’t latching onto Armand’s neck just yet.

“The offer stands,” Armand said, still not looking at Daniel. “Should you change your mind.”

Daniel uttered what felt like his umpteenth awkward ‘Thanks’ of the day.

“Do you...wanna watch a movie or something?” Daniel asked after half a minute of silence.

It was still relatively early in the morning and Daniel didn’t feel like going to sleep straightaway. Armand had more or less moved in (though that wasn’t something they had ever talked about or even really acknowledged) so he wasn’t going anywhere. 

If they put on a movie, they could just stay here for a while and it wouldn’t be weird if they didn’t talk or look at each other.

“I’d like that,” Armand replied.

Daniel woke up to a cold hand closing around his wrist and a soft, vaguely French-accented voice telling him, “Don’t scratch it.”

“‘s Itchy,” Daniel pouted before opening his eyes. He brought his other hand up to continue scratching but that wrist, too, was quickly encircled by Armand’s long, strong fingers.

“I know,” Armand said, voice still soft. “But your nails are deadly weapons now. You’ve already broken your skin.”

Daniel was on his bed on his back, Armand sitting next to him, leaning over him while he slowly pushed Daniel’s arms down and further away from his face. Their hips were touching. 

Daniel’s forehead felt itchy, and wet, and he smelled blood. It took him a few seconds to put two and two together and realize it was his own blood and that he had indeed cut himself where his skin had blistered that morning.

He looked up at Armand, whose eyes shone like coals in the dark of the room.

“Gonna put me in a cone of shame?” Daniel asked.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. If I release you, do you promise not to immediately resume your scratching?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

Daniel’s arms were both down by his sides now. He let them go slack, to show that he was serious about keeping his promise, then grabbed onto the sheets with his fingertips to make sure he didn’t instinctively go right back to scratching anyway.

Armand let go of Daniel’s wrists and considered Daniel’s forehead.

“It’s itchy,” Daniel repeated.

“I know. Will you let me...?” Armand cut open his own forefinger with his thumbnail and waited for Daniel’s reply.

Daniel nodded. “Yeah.”

Armand carefully dabbed at the cuts and at the one blister Daniel hadn’t managed to open up yet.

There was instant relief. There was coolness, and then the different, more tingly itch of skin knitting itself back together at a greatly accelerated rate, followed by the blessed absence of pain.

Daniel let out a deep sigh.

“Better?” Armand asked. His finger was still hovering over Daniel’s forehead.

“So much better.”

Armand gave him a watery smile, then went to lower his arm.

Before Daniel could stop himself, he had taken Armand’s hand in one of his own and guided Armand’s finger into his mouth.

The taste of his maker’s blood exploded on his tongue. It was like molten pleasure. So different from human blood. So much better.

Daniel moaned softly and Armand drew in a short, shuddering breath. 

The cut on Armand’s finger had closed up. Daniel let go of Armand’s hand and Armand slowly pulled his finger out of Daniel’s mouth.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathless. The room around them was unnaturally quiet, the ambient noise of Brooklyn during the day that usually penetrated the fancy UV-proof windows and blackout curtains Daniel had bought with some of Louis’s ten million raptured away.

“Does that offer still stand?” Daniel asked.

“It does,” Armand replied. “But you were right earlier. It would mean something. To me.”

“It can mean something,” Daniel said.

Armand’s mouth tightened a little and he looked away while the outside world faded back in.

“Right,” Daniel said. “Me saying that when your blood is literally already on my tongue is like telling a girl you love her because you’re trying to get into her pants.”

“Easily walked back once the pants in question have been pulled back up.”

Armand blinked slowly, like he was processing something, then raised a nail to the side of his neck.

Daniel stopped him by covering his hand with his own, lowering them together. “We don’t have to, if you don’t...”

Armand finally looked at him again. “You heard what Lestat sang about me. Beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll take what I can get.”

Daniel felt a wave of nausea coming up, followed by anger. At himself, at Lestat, and at every man who’d come before them. “No. Jesus. No, fuck that. And fuck Lestat. You deserve more than that.”

“Do I?”

The way Armand looked when he asked the question – like a lost little kid – broke Daniel’s heart into a thousand tiny jagged pieces.

“Yes!” Daniel said, too loudly. So loudly it made Armand flinch. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell at you,” Daniel muttered. “But yes. You do. And don’t let any asshole ever tell you differently.”

Armand didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. “I appreciate you saying that,” he said.

“Let’s not,” Daniel said, back on the topic of drinking Armand’s blood. “Not tonight. I’ll heal on my own.”

Armand seemed taken aback by this turn of events. “Are you certain?”

Daniel was. He’d been the asshole in plenty of situations, and he’d no doubt be one again, but not today, not with this. He just hoped Armand didn’t take it as some kind of rejection. Because he knew what rejection did to that lost little kid, and that wasn’t what it was.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Daniel assured him, trying his best to sound both confident and nonchalant. “You already fixed the worst of it. It’ll be good for me. Teach me patience and, uh, humility, or something.”

Armand raised his eyebrows. “Patience and humility?”

“Yeah.”

“You, Daniel Molloy? Patience and humility?”

Daniel had to admit those weren’t his two strongest areas. He could be patient, up to a point. Sometimes you had to be, to get the story. But he obviously hadn’t been patient enough not to turn himself into a crème brulée, and he’d always been a little full of himself. Maybe this really could do him some good.

“I’m sure you’ve seen stranger things happen in your lifetime,” he told Armand. “Once or twice.”

“Perhaps even thrice. But then I am very old, compared to most.”

This was good. They were back to dumb banter at Daniel’s expense. Moving away from unfathomably deep and complex trauma neither of them were prepared or equipped to properly examine.

“Well, prepare to be blown away by my humility.” Daniel spread out his arms and puffed out his chest. “It’s going to be huge. No one does humility quite like Danny-Boy Molloy. Or patience. I interviewed the Dalai Lama once, and he told me, ‘Daniel,’ he said, ‘never in all my lives have I met a man more truly hum – ” 

“You are a terrible liar,” Armand interrupted. “You never interviewed the Dalai Lama.”

“No, but if I had...”

Armand put a hand over Daniel’s mouth. “Stop talking.”

“Yes, boss,” Daniel said against his palm. It only came out a little muffled.

Armand blinked and withdrew his hand. It looked like he might be getting ready to stand up. And leave.

“Will you stay with me, though?” Daniel asked before he could. “Just for a little while. Until I fall back asleep?”

Armand swallowed, then nodded. “Of course.” 

He looked over his shoulder, maybe to see if there was a chair in the room, but Daniel was already scooting over towards the other side of the bed. He threw open the covers so Armand could get under them if he wanted, the invitation so unsubtle Daniel cringed at himself internally.

Armand hesitated for a second, then he stood up, toed off his slippers and laid down on the part of the bed Daniel had just vacated. On his side, so he was facing Daniel. He didn’t get under the covers, though. Left those right where they were, which Daniel tried his best to ignore while he himself turned onto his side as well, so their positions mirrored each other.

Armand looked at him, unblinking, while Daniel slowly grew more self-conscious.

“It looks bad, doesn’t it?” Daniel asked when the silence between them became too much for him to bear.

The room was still so dark no human would even have noticed Daniel’s burns, but Daniel knew from experience now that a vampire would still be able to see every detail.

“I’ve seen worse,” Armand said simply.

It struck Daniel, suddenly, just how nice Armand was being about the entire situation. Kind. He hadn’t scolded Daniel or properly snarked about it once. Just brought him some expensive creams and offered him his blood. It felt a little uncanny.

“But then you are very old,” Daniel offered.

“Comparatively, yes.”

“And you have a long history of setting other vampires on fire. When you were Maître Five Laws.”

“Yes. Though I would like the record to reflect that you brought this upon yourself.”

“Yeah, no, guilty as charged,” Daniel agreed, raising his right hand like he was standing before an actual judge, swearing to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Armand’s eyes continued to glide over Daniel’s face. Slowly, like he was mapping it.

“Burned my fucking bald spot,” Daniel said. That was perhaps the most humiliating part of it all.

“I know.”

“You can say, ‘I told you so,’” Daniel said. “Just once, though. I don’t need you dragging this back up every time we argue for the next 10,000 years.”

Armand sucked in his lips, like he was biting back a smile. “I did tell you,” he said after a second or two.

“Yeah, well, I’m a stubborn asshole.”

Armand reached out and tucked a curl behind Daniel’s ear. The curl immediately sprung back to its previous position, so Armand tucked it away again, and again, so he was basically just stroking Daniel’s hair.

Daniel didn’t comment. It was nice.

“My little Icarus,” Armand said.

Daniel barked out a laugh. “Too soon, man. Too soon.”

Armand smiled. “Headstrong fledgling,” he amended.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Daniel admitted. “I just wanna play with the big kids, you know?”

“And you will. Once you grow into your powers, you will be magnificent. Unstoppable.”

“Unstoppable, huh?”

“Yes. Or as close to it as anyone can get.”

Daniel hummed thoughtfully.

“What is it?” Armand asked.

“Going to be awfully hard to stay humble after that.”

Armand stopped petting him and gave him a look that made Daniel burst out laughing again.

“Incorrigible,” Armand declared, but he sounded and looked more fond of Daniel than anyone ever had.

“Yeah, that’s me, too.”

They smiled at each other.

Things no longer felt awkward between them. They felt familiar, and safe.

Armand went back to caressing Daniel’s hair for a few seconds. Then he stopped and lifted his hand to the side of his own neck again. “Come,” he said, after making a cut with one of his nails.

The renewed smell of Armand’s blood on the air made Daniel’s mouth water and his skin tingle in a way that had nothing to do with his sunburn. “But we just said...”

“I know,” Armand said. “It’ll mean what it means. Come. It will make you feel better.”

The smell of Armand’s blood was intoxicating. Near-overwhelming, and absolutely impossible to resist. And Daniel knew it was nothing compared to the taste of it.

Armand beckoned him with his fingers and Daniel went to him, as if he were being pulled forward on an invisible string.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Armand’s neck, at the bottom of the cut Armand had made, and licked the blood from his own lips before darting out his tongue to lap it directly from Armand’s skin.

Armand sighed, “Yes,” and Daniel agreed. 

Yes... 

Fuck, yes. God, yes. Nothing but yes. Forever and ever. 

Please.

Armand put his hand on the back of Daniel’s neck, pulling him closer. “You can use your fangs,” he said with a slight rasp to his voice. “I want them.”

Daniel didn’t have to be told twice. His fangs were out before he’d made the conscious decision to drop them. He bit down carefully, his instinct to feed wrestling with his determination not to take more than he was being offered.

Armand’s blood filled Daniel’s mouth, coating his tongue in bliss.

Daniel didn’t know if it actually, physiologically worked like that, but it felt like Armand’s blood was instantly rushing through his own veins. Humming, thrumming, dancing through his body, healing not just his burned skin but the deepest depths of Daniel’s being. Smoothing over years of longing, hurt and abandonment.

There was something inherently erotic to drinking blood straight from the vein, even if it was from someone you weren’t in any way attracted to. Daniel had known that since he’d been a teen watching black-and-white horror movies in his uncle’s basement, before he’d known vampires weren’t purely fictional. But now Daniel was that vampire, and it was Armand moaning beneath him, pushing up into the bite, winding his fingers into Daniel’s curls and whispering barely-intelligible encouragements in his ear.

Armand.

Mentor, murderer, maker.

Not quite lover. Not yet, not before now.

Daniel swallowed one mouthful, two, three... Probably not much more than that, but enough to leave him feeling completely renewed when Armand gently dislodged him from his neck, both hands cradling Daniel’s face.

Daniel was breathing hard, and so was Armand. Daniel could feel his maker’s breath on his skin, mingling with his own. Could’ve counted Armand’s freckles if he’d been able to concentrate on them long enough, they were that close.

Daniel kissed him, and Armand kissed him back. 

It was just lips at first, but they soon progressed to tongue and teeth, their bodies pressing together, all of it still tasting of Armand’s blood.

“Wait,” Daniel said, pulling away. “Do you, uh... do you want some of mine?”

“Of your blood, you mean?” Armand asked. His pupils had almost eclipsed his irises, and the tips of his fangs were visible between his parted lips. One of his hands was still on Daniel’s face, the other one holding on to the front of Daniel’s shirt.

Daniel nodded. “Yeah.”

It seemed only fair to offer Armand some of his, if they were sharing.

Armand looked at Daniel’s lips and lowered his hand to rub his thumb over Daniel’s pulse point, his gaze following the movement. “I... I think that would be rather counterproductive. To me giving you mine to help you heal,” he clarified.

“Oh. Right.”

Daniel had completely forgotten about his sunburn, which didn’t burn anymore. All he’d been thinking about was his proximity to Armand, and how to get even closer to him.

“Another time,” Armand said, and Daniel nodded again.

“Yeah.”

There would be other times. Daniel knew that. It was inevitable. They were tied together by the blood – forever – and this was where Daniel belonged: in Armand’s orbit.

Armand nodded, too, as if he were thinking the same or was somehow still capable of reading Daniel’s mind. “Come,” he said a third time, and then he was kissing Daniel, and Daniel was kissing him back.

They went at it for a long time, both of them needy and greedy for it. At some point Daniel cut his tongue on one of Armand’s half-extended fangs, but that only spurred them both on even further.

When they finally broke apart again, Daniel was back on his back and Armand was on top of him, straddling him and pinning Daniel’s wrists to the mattress on either side of his head. They were both rock hard, their cocks pressed together through too many layers of fabric.

“Are we doing this?” Daniel asked.

“We are.”

“Okay.”

Armand immediately leaned back down and went back to kissing Daniel within an inch of his unlife, moving his hands from Daniel’s wrists to grab at his chest, and rocking his hips back and forth until Daniel was on the brink of coming in his boxers. 

Daniel put his hands on Armand’s thighs to slow him down a little. “How... How do you want it?” he panted. “And don’t say however I want it. That’s...not what I asked.”

Armand’s eyes were glazed over with lust. He looked down at Daniel for a moment while he processed the question. “I want it like this,” he said. “I want your hands, and your skin.” He leaned back a little and grabbed at the bottom of Daniel’s T-shirt with both hands.

Daniel sat up so Armand could take the shirt off of him, which he somehow managed to do before Daniel was fully upright. Armand put his hands on Daniel’s now-bare chest, squeezed, and went to push him back down again.

“Wait,” Daniel said. “I want...” He put his own hands on the bottom of Armand’s wine-red button-up. “Can I?”

Armand nodded, then divested himself of his shirt so quickly at least one of the buttons popped off, Daniel’s ‘help’ probably only getting in the way.

Armand was more muscular than Daniel had imagined. His arms, his pecs. Daniel didn’t really get a good look at him, though, because Armand was immediately pushing him back down onto the mattress. He covered Daniel’s chest with his own so they were skin-to-skin, melting into their touch with a deep sigh. 

Daniel ran his hands up and down the smooth expanse of Armand’s back, up the back of his neck, where he wound his fingers into Armand’s curls.

Armand hummed approvingly and whispered Daniel’s name.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed.

“My darling.”

“Uh-huh.”

Armand sat up again, so he could look into Daniel’s eyes, and run his fingers down Daniel’s face. “My first-born.”

Daniel nodded.

“My only child.”

Fuck, why was that so hot?

Daniel needed more kisses, and he got them. On his forehead and his temple and his cheek, along his jaw and down his neck, while Armand called him precious and clever and insufferable and fascinating and his.

“More skin,” Armand said and, again, Daniel could only agree.

They fumbled Daniel’s boxers down his legs together, abandoning all attempts at elegance and decorum in their hurry to get Daniel naked. Armand ended up throwing the garment over his shoulder.

Daniel whined when Armand stood up from the bed, but he soon realized Armand had only moved away so he could more easily take off his own pants and underwear. He climbed back on top of Daniel only a few seconds later, pressing his cock against Daniel’s. 

Nothing separated them now.

No clothes, no masks, no lies or half-truths.

“Fuck, baby,” Daniel whispered, but he didn’t like how that sounded. The nickname was too bland, too generic. “Dad,” he corrected. It shouldn’t have felt right to call Armand that, but it did.

“I’m here, beloved. I have you.” 

Armand emphasized his words by wrapping his hand around Daniel’s cock and giving him a few, slow, deliberate strokes.

Daniel bucked up involuntary, his head briefly leaving the pillow before falling back down. “Armand... Armand, I need – ”

Armand shushed him. Not rudely or brusquely, but with love and reassurance, one hand against Daniel’s lips, the other still around his cock. “I’m here,” he repeated. “I’ll take care of you.” And Daniel knew he would.

Of course Armand knew exactly where Daniel kept his lube. The drawer it had been in opened with a thunk and the bottle flew into Armand’s hand. It might have been the single hottest thing Daniel had ever seen. Armand’s power still awed him, and excited him more than anything in the world.

“Are you going to teach me how to do that, too?” Daniel asked.

“Of course,” Armand said. “I’ll teach you everything I know, and we’ll learn more together.” He popped open the cap on the lube and added, “All in good time.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said. “Priorities.”

“Quite.” Armand let go of Daniel’s cock. “Give me your right hand.”

Daniel did, placing it in Armand’s palm-up. Armand poured a generous helping of lube into Daniel’s hand, then wrapped it around both their cocks, moving his own hand a quarter turn to close the circle. Holding Daniel holding them both.

Armand moved their joined hands up and down while moving his hips in an opposing rhythm, so their cocks slid alongside each other in the tight, slick tunnel of their hands.

Daniel moaned. He didn’t notice Armand getting rid of the lube bottle, which he must have done, because the hand that had been holding it was now on Daniel’s chest, his nails digging in.

“Look at me,” Armand said, and Daniel did. How could he not? Armand looked perfect above him – on top of him. Eyes wide, curls messy, his mouth half-open, fangs peeking out. Chest heaving while he rode Daniel and stroked them both.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

“Perfect,” Daniel breathed, touching the fingertips of his free hand to his maker’s cheek. His own fangs were back out, too. He couldn’t have forced them back in if he’d tried.

Armand covered Daniel’s hand with his own and kept it there, pressed against his skin. "Perfect,” he echoed. “My fledgling.”

“My maker.”

“My only child.”

Daniel pulled Armand down towards him and kissed him. “My murderer.”

“My broken vow.”

They didn’t talk much after that. There was no need to, and barely any opportunity. Their mouths were too busy kissing and nipping at each other, and they both had very little breath left, with the way Armand was bringing them closer and closer to their climax with ever increasing intensity.

Armand gasped into Daniel’s mouth when he came, and Daniel moaned loudly. Someone’s lip got bitten, the blood mingling with their spit, and then Daniel was coming, too, and for quite some time Daniel didn’t know where he ended and where Armand began, and he knew Armand felt the same way.

Afterwards, they lay in a position very similar to the one they had started out in. Next to each other on their sides, looking at each other, Armand gently caressing the side of Daniel’s face. They were closer together now, physically as well as emotionally. Naked and in need of a shower and blissfully aware of the fact that things between them had changed forever. Their union finally fully sealed.

The outside world seemed miles away. Daniel didn’t know if that was their bond doing its thing or just good old-fashioned afterglow. He didn’t know if it mattered much. It was wonderful and he wanted it to last forever.

It couldn’t, of course.

Daniel felt something shift in Armand. A minute change, a hairline fracture in his happiness.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Daniel asked.

“It’s silly.”

“I doubt that.”

Armand stopped stroking Daniel’s face. “I... I didn’t know if you would ever want me a... After everything.”

“I think I’ve always wanted you,” Daniel said, and he knew, as he said it, that it was true. “And not just because you’re pretty. I wanted you in Dubai when you were Fake Rashid, with those ridiculous necklines and the big, brown fuck-me eyes, but... I wanted you more once I knew you were you. Because you were dangerous and unknowable. I was pissed off that you’d fooled me, but that just made me want to dig in even more. Peel back all the layers and find out what made you tick.”

“You wanted to defeat me,” Armand said.

“That, too. But I think, uh... I think it might have been equally satisfying if you had ended up defeating me. It’s the chase that does it for me.”

Armand smiled, strangely wistfully. “I know.”

“And it wasn’t just Dubai. I wanted you that first time I saw you, at Polynesian Mary’s. I wanted Louis, too, of course, I mean who wouldn’t? But I wanted you more. Then after that, when you held me prisoner and tortured me and only fed me stale crackers for a week and wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom until I begged, I, uh...” Daniel chuckled sheepishly. “I still fucking wanted you, and I wanted you to want me. I guess I’ve always been a bit of a freak.”

“Yes.”

“That what made me fascinating?” 

Daniel had aimed for ‘wry’ with his tone, but he didn’t really have it in him to be sarcastic right now. Which was something that only happened to him about once a decade.

“It was certainly part of the appeal,” Armand said. 

“When you...”Daniel swallowed. “After the plane. When you’d made me a vampire... I really wanted you then.”

Daniel saw his own sudden sadness reflected in Armand’s eyes. 

“I know.”

“I needed you.”

“I know. It was wrong of me to leave you.”

“Why did you?” Daniel asked, finally – finally – voicing the question that had been plaguing him for almost three years. “Wasn’t I good enough?”

Daniel was grateful for the fact that his voice didn’t crack on that last question, but it still came out small and a little pathetic.

“No.” Armand shook his head violently, and cradled Daniel’s face in both of his hands. “No, my darling. It was never that. You’ve turned out beautifully. You have.”

“Then why?”

Armand grimaced, then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Would you believe me if I told you I was frightened?”

“I think I would.” Daniel could see it, he definitely could, but... “But so was I.”

“I know. And I truly am sorry for it.” Armand took hold of Daniel’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m here now, and I will make it up to you.”

‘Profound amends,’ Armand had said when he’d first shown up in New York and offered to finally do his part as Daniel’s maker.

Daniel had been sceptical then, but he believed him now. That Armand truly cared for him, and wanted to take care of him.

“You’re not taking off again?” Daniel asked. He had to hear him say it.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Nor any other creature.”

“You promise?”

Armand squeezed Daniel’s hands a little tighter. “I promise. I will be here 10,000 years from now.”

“10,000, huh?”

“Yes. To tease you about the time you got a terrible sunburn as a fledgling.” 

Armand touched the place on Daniel’s forehead where his blisters had been. The skin there still felt the tiniest bit tender, and Daniel imagined he still looked a little more pink than he usually did.

Daniel smiled and pressed his forehead against Armand’s. The last of his unfortunate tan would fade away soon enough, but he trusted that their bond – like his powers – would only strengthen as time stretched on.

 “I can’t wait.”