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Daniel could anticipate the stares by now. When entering a relationship with a significant age gap, particularly when you were a public figure, you always had to be ready for judgment. It became more difficult when you walked the line between two realities the way he did now, one where power dynamics were not based on appearance, and one where they very much were. According to all the human tabloids, he was going through some sort of belated midlife crisis, taking up with a hot, barely legal tech bro Pacino-style and parading him around the book tour circuit. Rumors surrounded his Mystery Boy, and none of them were particularly flattering to either of them. Daniel had already drained one “journalist” who spoke of him and Epstein in the same breath.
He’d had to explain to his daughters and both ex wives at an impromptu family reunion-turned-intervention that, No, it wasn’t dementia and he wasn’t back on drugs, that he had always been bisexual (Alice backed him up on that, thankfully), that he wasn’t paying Armand—who was 30, by the way—to stay with him, that believe it or not they just genuinely liked each other. None of them believed him, and everyone involved left angry, but it wasn’t his call to make. He had accepted that long before Dubai changed everything. At least they’d only have to put up with the embarrassment for a few more years as Daniel worked out the logistics of faking his death.
Still, the constant mental barrage of questions every time he took Armand out was beginning to take a toll on him. He could easily tune them out, but he didn’t have to listen to know. One could only put up with so many “filthy old man"s or “does his dick even still work?”s or the even rarer but still patronizing “you go, peepaw!” before they decide to maybe spend a Friday night at home with a bag of blood, a movie, and a puzzle instead of hitting the clubs. So maybe he was wallowing, sure, but even an all-powerful immortal being deserved that once in a while. It was only one weekend, not a century.
He’d settled on My Fair Lady and a 1,000 piece modeled after a medieval tapestry and was well on his way to speedrunning the border thanks to his heightened senses when Armand burst through the front door of the apartment, arms full of various boxes and bags. It wasn’t an unusual sight; His maker was an unabashed shopaholic, with packages delivered to the front door on a near-daily basis. He was already a bit of a pack rat before he gained a surprise roommate, and now his small Brooklyn apartment felt ready to burst at the seams. They really had to think about relocating, but he was attached to this place, the memories in its walls.
“Need any help with those, babe?” Daniel called out without looking up from his puzzle, knowing already that the answer would be in the negative. Armand rarely asked for his help, particularly not with trivial matters such as groceries. He doubted the bags weighed anything to him.
“Daniel! You’re home!” Was Armand’s response, as if he couldn’t feel it through their bond. As if his every action wasn’t perfectly calculated. He’d barely moved from his spot on the couch Armand had left him in at dusk. “Yes, actually, I’ve got some gifts for you.”
When it came to Armand, a gift could mean any number of things: A new notebook or some other journaling supplies, some rare vinyl record for an underground band they saw once in the 70s, sex toys that ranged from tame to outright dangerous, or clothes purchased in a desperate attempt to update his wardrobe. It was clear, as Daniel rose to meet him and take some of the brand-embossed bags from his arms, that tonight it would be the very latter.
“Did you buy out the whole of Fifth Avenue?” Daniel joked as they made their way down the narrow hallway to the master bedroom, where he unceremoniously dumped the bags onto their bed. He didn’t know where Armand wanted them, or what they even were, so it was best to just let him sort for himself. When the ancient vampire got like this, it reminded him of how they used to be all those lifetimes ago. Armand showering him with gifts and praise, treating him like he was something special, when all Daniel really wanted was Armand. Everything else was secondary.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I bought only a few essentials,” Armand replied, pressing a brief kiss to Daniel’s cheek before beginning to organize the mess of bags on the bed. Daniel couldn’t help but notice the new pair of Prada sunglasses perched atop his head, and wondered how many hundreds those alone cost.
“And what essentials might those be?” Daniel could argue that no luxury brand was an essential, but it would be like talking to a wall. His maker liked his fineries, while he liked cheap bodega food and a 5 pack of underwear from the dollar store. Vampirism didn’t suddenly change that. Well. Except the bodega food. And no, he didn’t drain the shop owners for a fix either. They were a sacred class as far as he was concerned.
“I got you an outfit. We’re going out tonight.” Armand explained confidently, with an easy smile that still made Daniel’s heart flutter. Armand flashing those pearly whites at him could get him to do just about anything. Just about.
“Does it look like I plan on going out?” Daniel asked, gesturing vaguely at himself. He wore a decade-old robe, a faded Frank Zappa shirt, and plaid pajama pants that only barely hid old food stains that wouldn’t come out. He hadn’t changed since waking up, in fact, and was intending to go back to sleep in them come dawn. At least, he would if Armand would ever allow him into the bed with clothes he’d been in all day.
That brilliant smile fell from Armand’s lips, but his look wasn’t all dejection just yet, “We have been invited to a very exclusive club tonight,” He explained, sounding determined as he traipsed around the bedroom with his bags and boxes, a flurry of movement. “I told them we would be attending.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me about it, I don’t know, more than an hour or so ahead of time?” Daniel could feel the phantoms of a headache, and knew that if he was still mortal his head would be throbbing. How had he put up with Armand’s persistent energy back then? Oh yeah. Coke and ‘ludes. Damn.
“Daniel,” Cold hands cupped his face, guiding his head up to meet Armand’s gaze. He was all adoration, despite how much of a grumpy hardass Daniel was. Maybe because of it. “Beloved, I want to take you out tonight.”
“We go out every night,” Daniel argued weakly. He really was feeling like an unattractive slob, as per the previously mentioned wallowing, and he didn’t need anyone else to see it. He was saggy and old and tired.
“We don’t go to this club every night,” Armand countered, tracing a claw lovingly along the path of one of his crow’s feet. “I’ve been working through my connections for weeks to get us that coveted entry.”
“Must be a place for real freaks if it’s that exclusive,” He grunted, twitching a bit as the claw got a little too close to his eye for comfort.
That grin was back, predatory now. “Of course.”
He sighed. There was no convincing Armand once he got his mind set on something. Still, he couldn’t ignore his natural, journalistic curiosity. If it was anything like that club Armand somehow managed to get them into in Berlin, it ought to be an interesting night.
“Alright, alright. Let’s play Grandpa Dressup,” Daniel permitted, and Armand leaned down to press an ecstatic kiss to his lips before scurrying off to gather the particular bags he needed. Daniel owned suits already but nearly all of them were off the rack, generic things that were just passable enough for university lectures. These, somehow, were already perfectly tailored to his measurements, right down to the inseam—but leave it to Armand to have those sorts of details memorized.
What followed was a montage that would put the best teen romcom to shame. Armand passed him various suits, looked him over in each with a sharp and critical eye, and found what he liked out of each of them. Daniel didn’t have “the eye,” so he trusted Armand’s judgment as he instructed him to switch jackets, change into that shirt, no that one, we are going to burn these trousers, those are much better, Daniel don’t give me that look, we’re almost finished.
It reminded him of the few times his mother took him clothes shopping at Macy’s in the fall before school started back up, and it was barely any less mortifying this time. “Do a spin for me” came out of both his mother’s and Armand’s mouths decades apart, and he tried to ignore the Freudian implications.
Eventually he was in a combination of fabrics that he was sure cost more than what he got for his first book. A black suit jacket covered a silk shirt of deep red buttoned only halfway at Armand’s insistence. The trousers matched the jacket, and his socks were a red paisley to match his shirt. The shoes were prada, which explained Armand’s matching sunglasses. On his wrist was a brand new Rolex, and a simple gold chain hung off his neck and rested in a nest of silver chest hair.
The finishing touch was held in a wide, velvet necklace box. “Hold out your hands,” Armand instructed, and placed the box in his palms when he did so. Opening the box revealed what could only be described as a luxury collar. Fashionable, but undoubtedly a Sex Thing.
“24 Karat. Custom.” Armand specified as he lifted it out of the box. He must have put in the order weeks ago and picked it up while he was out, maybe when he first started trying to get them into this club. The chain seemed so dainty, yet solid, with an o-ring at its center. Armand wrapped it around Daniel’s throat, making sure it was tight but not suffocating before he secured the lock in the back. A matching chain that held the key already hung from Armand’s neck.
“You look ravishing, beloved,” Armand sighed, and the kiss he pulled Daniel into this time lingered for a bit. Lips and tongue teased each other briefly before the elder vampire pulled back, turning his fledgling by his shoulders to face the full body mirror behind him. “Look, how I see you.”
All things considered, he looked good. The clothes really did make the man. Still, there was the nagging at the back of his head. The moment they showed up, they’d see nothing but an old man with his pet boy, or worse, an old pervert who liked to be a boy’s pet. He fiddled with his cufflinks nervously. He thought the insecurities of old age and two divorces would disappear once he was a sexy, immortal vampire, but it seemed the blood couldn’t fix everything.
Behind him, Armand began to change into his own new suit. He could make a potato sack look beautiful, so a perfectly tailored suit made him look utterly radiant. It complimented Daniel’s own suit, with a red jacket and trousers, a black shirt still hanging open but undoubtedly only meant to be buttoned halfway. Armand was indeed buttoning up his shirt when the silence in the room finally registered, and he looked up at his fledgling.
“Do you not like it?” he asked, and there was the disappointment Daniel had been waiting for, finally. “Is there something wrong, Daniel?”
Daniel laughed, a bitter little sound that bubbled from his throat, and shook his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard what everyone’s been saying about us.”
Armand’s head tilted to the side in confusion. “I don’t see why that’s an issue. We both know the claims are inaccurate. I was traveling around Europe with Louis when you were in diapers,” He remarked, “One could argue that I’m taking advantage of a fledgling, perhaps, but anyone who knows us knows the truth.”
“But it’s not about the truth, it’s about what it looks like,” Daniel explained, almost astounded at how obtuse Armand could be at times. “And it looks like I’m a filthy old man. It’s not exactly sexy.”
“Well I think you’re sexy,” Armand countered, getting between Daniel and the mirror and looping his arms around his neck loosely. He trailed kisses along Daniel’s jaw, before taking an earlobe into his mouth and nipping at it. Pulling back, he breathed: “I want to show my sexy boy off. Will you let me?”
And fuck if that didn’t get him stirring in his perfectly tailored trousers. Just a little.
“Fine. Fine. Just— You finish getting dressed and I’ll take a few minutes in the bathroom to have an existential crisis and do my hair,” Daniel replied, rubbing reassuring circles into Armand’s hips. If this was what he really wanted, had gone to all these lengths to accomplish, he wouldn’t crush his dream. Not tonight. Another quick peck to his maker’s lips and they were parting.
In the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face and did his hair as promised. He let a curl fall down the center of his forehead the way he knew Armand liked. It wasn’t much, but there wasn’t much he could do with his hair in general on such a short notice. He stared himself down in the mirror, the unflattering bathroom lighting doing nothing to help his confidence. His wrinkles were like great canyons on his face, his skin was sallow. He sighed again. There was nothing they could do about all that, so he might as well try to own it.
Armand was busy applying his kohl at his vanity when Daniel returned from the en suite, and Daniel watched with rapt adoration. Armand’s hair was slicked back, curling elegantly at the base of his long neck. He wore several gold rings on his fingers that clicked with the practiced movements of his hands. Daniel could recall which rings he had given his maker, which he had purchased himself. Some were hundreds of years old, others were barely a year. The key to his fledgling’s new collar hung low on his chest, pressed between black-dusted cleavage enticingly.
The smoky ring of black he applied around his eyes always brought out the vibrancy of his irises, orange like a desert sunrise even in the darkest night. He was honored to have those same eyes, though the color often rotated depending on his thoughts. Now, beholding his maker, they were that same desert sunrise. Feeling the eyes on him, Armand turned to face his fledgling with a soft grin. “Would you like me to do yours, Daniel?”
He hesitated a moment, but tonight was apparently about pushing him out of his comfort zone, so what was one more thing? “Yeah, alright,” He permitted, sitting himself down next to Armand at the vanity and waiting for his turn.
The sensation of Armand applying the kohl made his eyes burn, pink with tears at his waterline even as Armand hushed him like a mother placating a fussing toddler. “If you keep moving like that, it will get everywhere,” He threatened, gripping his chin with his free hand, rough yet with an underlying gentleness.
He didn’t apply nearly as much onto Daniel as he typically would himself, simply accentuating his eyes instead of drawing the focus to them. Even Daniel couldn’t deny that it made his eyes pop. A few sprays on each of them with the same cologne, something Armand always insisted on, and the looks were complete.
Armand didn’t even let Daniel grab his wallet as they headed out of the apartment. “I told you, I’m showing my boy off. And I will get my boy anything his heart desires,” Armand assured him, gripping his wrist as he reached for it from the bowl of keys and wallets by the door. So, Daniel let it go, let himself get used to the idea of being pampered as they slid into the back of Armand’s hired car. “Yes, Daddy ,” He relented, and Armand’s laugh echoed through the night air.
Armand’s hand was on Daniel’s thigh for the duration of the drive to the club, his thumb rubbing in small, playful circles as he told him all about their destination with an air of excitement that even held Daniel rapt. It was a club for discerning men of a certain tax bracket to meet up and mingle. Nothing untoward carried on in the club’s walls, but the promise hung thick in the air.
“Okay, so it’s a bougie gay bar,” Daniel clarified flatly. Saying it like that took away the mystique, but he wasn’t completely sold yet. Armand had a secret little smile that told him he was still missing something. So it wasn’t a sex club, but there was something else.
Their driver brought them to the front of the club, and while the facade didn’t give much away it was clear that they didn’t let just anybody in. The line went around the block, and yet they turned away more than they let in. All Armand had to do was flash one of his dozens of IDs at the bouncer (Tonight’s was Armand Molloy, Daniel noted with some pride) and they were led into an elevator that would bring them to the rooftop.
It was half past 1 AM and the club was alive as they exited the elevator. Music boomed from the DJ booth as men danced together, sat close and chatted privately in booths, made out in dark corners, laughed together at the bar. All in all, it was exactly as he anticipated, yet not a single one of them noticed he nor Armand’s arrival, not even as Armand guided him with a hand on his lower back towards the bar. No thoughts questioned their legitimacy, none held disgust. That hand would stay there a majority of the evening: possessive, grounding.
“What will you be having, darling?” Armand asked, playfully nuzzling into the crook of Daniel’s neck. He was showing off, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of being so obviously wanted. Bashful, he looked away from the bartender and focused instead on the laminated pamphlet resting atop the bar. His eyes scanned the cocktail menu, and his brain came to a halt as he noticed the same ingredient in each. Blood. Human. Animal. Even Genetically modified lab-grown blood?
“Did you bring me to a fucking gay vampire club?” He asked, dumbfounded. He thought all of the vampiric world hated his fucking guts and were out to get him, and yet none of them batted an eye at their presence at the club. Then again, they had bigger fish to fry these days, with Lestat gearing up for a tour that blatantly flaunted vampiric existence. One measly biography wasn’t the concern anymore.
“I own it,” Armand replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s been in operation since 1998, I was given the idea for a vampire-exclusive club from the film Blade.”
“You told me you had to try for weeks to get in,” Daniel stated, incredulous. Armand had pulled off bigger stunts than this before, but why now? Why tonight? And did he just say he was inspired by fucking Blade? Did they have fucking blood sprinklers too? No, that would be too much—even for Armand.
“I was simply trying to give you the proper motivation,” He placated gently, ever the theatre director even all these decades later. “I could tell you’ve been unhappy, even without access to your thoughts, and I wanted to do something that would make you happy. I could take you to a place where no one would stare at you, where you could have a drink and dance with me without feeling self conscious.”
“So why didn’t you just say that?”
“Daniel,” It was Armand’s turn to sound incredulous this time. “In your state, would you have even considered going out without the motivation?”
Daniel frowned, almost more of a pout than anything. Armand was right. He’d caught himself in a loop of self-deprecation that he could only be brought out of by force. If he knew Armand owned the club, he would only take it as condescension, like he needed his hand to be held. It was sickening how well his maker understood him, but ultimately they were one and the same now.
“I suppose I’m the youngest one here tonight,” He said as he took another glance around the bar, sounding a bit more confident. He didn’t recognize any of the faces, but he could feel their power now that he was focusing on it. None of these men were fledglings like he was. On a less ethereal and more physical scale, he could also feel how the tension left Armand’s shoulders next to him, that sly grin returning to his face.
“And I am the oldest. How truly scandalous,” The hand on Daniel’s lower back inched down and cupped his ass, giving it a brief squeeze. “Now will you let Daddy order for you, boy?”
He’d been joking when he called Armand that earlier, had never seriously called someone daddy, even in the depths of withdrawal-fueled desperation, but something in the way the word rolled off Armand’s tongue set a fire in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. Armand truly was so much older than him, and everyone knew it. Everyone could do nothing but feel it. Maître was off-limits in their bedroom, but Daddy…
“Alright, Daddy. What do you recommend?” He asked, deciding to play along. He fluttered his eyelashes in a way that he hoped was enticing, and with the way Armand’s pupils expanded, it worked. “The idea repulsed me. Repulses me.” Uh huh. Daniel knew a kink when he saw one. Still, it was one he could play with, no matter how ridiculous it initially felt.
Armand ordered the Vampire’s Kiss, and Daniel snorted at the lack of subtlety. All of the cocktails were similarly undead themed, with the likes of the Wolf Bite, Zombie, and Blood Martini. In his short experience with the undead, it seemed like they all enjoyed leaning into the bit. He couldn’t deny that O Negative went surprisingly well with raspberry vodka, though.
“You want a taste?” Daniel offered, watching as Armand’s eyes flicked to his lips hungrily. Of course he did. He placed a hand, steady and sure, on the back of Armand’s neck, leaning in almost as if he were about to kiss him, but then brought his glass up to his lips. Armand drank, caught off guard. Daniel watched Armand’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and he pulled the glass back. He couldn’t resist kissing the blissed out look off of his face with a grin.
More drunk on desire than spirits, Daniel grabbed Armand’s hand and led him out towards the dance floor. “You said you wanted to dance, so let’s dance,” He invited, pulling his maker in by his hips so that their bodies were pressed flush together.
They moved to the bass of the track, something heavy and sexy that compelled bodies out onto the dance floor. The air was thick with the scent of blood-sweat and cologne, different lineages bringing different notes that clogged the sense. The most potent and intoxicating of all for Daniel was the blood of his maker, mingling between their bodies where they were pressed together.
For once Daniel dared to glance into the thoughts of those around them. A bald man to Armand’s right, seething with jealousy at the thought that an ancient would waste his time on a fledgling. A 200 year old twink behind him wanting a piece of him . A slender, androgynous being at the very edges of the dance floor who wanted both of them. He learned rather quickly that he was a novelty in a vampiric world that was so used to seeing nothing but youth in their midst. He could have anyone he wanted, but he already had that in his arms.
Speaking of.
His focus returned to Armand, and his expression was unreadable. Not the blank, apocalyptic look, not quite lust, not quite amusement.
“What’s on your mind, boss?” He asked over the boom of the music, a little concerned. He steered them out of the writhing mass and more towards the outside of the dance floor, where the air was less thick, where they could communicate better.
Armand didn’t respond, only grabbed Daniel’s face and pulled him down into a rough kiss. Daniel felt his maker’s short fangs as they dug into his lip, his tongue swiping up the blood that welled up from the punctures. A leg slotted itself between his thighs, rubbing desperately. He felt himself getting a little weak in the knees at the treatment, and he reluctantly pulled back from the kiss.
“A couple minutes of dancing with little ol’ me got you all fired up, Daddy?” He teased, licking his lip to heal the bites.
“I could hear what they think of you,” Armand replied, his voice thick with lust. “I could feel their jealousy.”
“So you wanted to show off a little? Stake your claim?” He asked, his fingers teasing the key around his maker’s neck. The whole vampiric world knew who Daniel belonged to at this point, but it was cute that he felt he had to remind them. Armand nodded, a shy little smile appearing on his face.
Daniel enjoyed the attention, and in any other situation he would have loved to keep it going, but he was starting to actually have fun. Armand was right that he just needed to get out and get over himself, and his stupid exclusive vampire club was the right fix. “Got it out of your system now?” He asked, ready to return to the dance floor proper.
“I think so.” Armand agreed with a nod, and allowed himself to get swept back into the moment. Boring , Louis had called him. Had Louis ever taken him dancing? Watched as he let himself feel the music? Then again, Armand had never truly let himself go around Louis. It was always an act, a character built to please him. This? This was genuine. The more ridiculous cocktails they shared through the night the more uninhibited he became, laughing as he moved to the beat. He was beautiful, and Daniel found himself falling for him impossibly harder and harder.
It was nearing 3 AM when they sidled back up to the bar for one more drink, limbs loose and goofy grins plastered on their faces. As they waited for the bartender to finish their drinks, Armand draped himself over Daniel’s shoulder, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.
“Well, was this worth abandoning your puzzle, sweet boy?” He asked as he pushed his sweat-drenched hair back into place with his free hand.
“Just about.” Daniel conceded, content to have his maker his close, even in such a casual way.
“Well, what could I do to make your night perfect?” The other man urged. “Money is no object for my boy.”
“Take me home and fuck me, Daddy,” He sighed into his ear, a hand sneaking down to cup him through his pants. Armand shivered at the contact, an unwitting moan pulled from his throat. Their drinks were abandoned before they were even finished.
Their driver was there to pick them up almost immediately, and Daniel climbed easily onto Armand’s lap as the car pulled back out onto the road. He wrapped his arms around his maker’s neck and slowly began grinding their cocks together through their trousers, kissing along his jaw.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Armand sighed, placing his hands on Daniel’s hips and guiding his languid movements.
“Well, you wanted the full Sugar Daddy experience, didn’t you?” Daniel chuckled breathlessly. “I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you properly all night.”
Making out like a couple of nepo baby teenagers in the back of Rolls Royce might not have been on his bucket list, but it certainly filled him with a sense of satisfaction. Or maybe it was the way Armand kissed like a man starved, like he would be content to be latched mouth-to-mouth with Daniel for eternity. All good things must come to an end, though, and even with some clever vampiric meddling of the traffic lights, soon enough their driver pulled up to their apartment building.
Armand could have easily carried Daniel up the 6 flights of stairs to their apartment, but Daniel insisted on keeping it together until at least the front door was shut. No matter how horny they might have been at that moment, they had neighbors . But not a moment after they were securely within their apartment was Armand back on him. Their kiss didn’t falter as they stumbled blindly back towards the bedroom, leaving articles of clothing in their wake. A shirt here, a jacket there, until they were left in only their underwear and socks (and Daniel in his new collar) as they fell to the bed.
When Daniel tried to roll himself on top of Armand, a position familiar to them, the elder vampire stopped him, pulling away from the kiss to roll himself on top instead. His weight on top of him was nothing in comparison to the inverse, but it was still comforting all the same, simply because it was Armand.
“Are you going to let me spoil you?” He asked sweetly, tracing a hand up Daniel’s throat for a moment before playing with the o-ring of his collar.
“You’ve been spoiling me all night,” Daniel replied, swallowing thickly. He could feel the collar tighten incrementally as it was tugged.
“I have. And yet it’s still not enough, is it? I have such a greedy boy,” Armand crooned, letting go of the o-ring and letting his hands wander instead to the waistband of his boy’s briefs. “But I know what you need, Beloved. You needn’t worry.”
Armand slid Daniel’s briefs down his legs, taking the time to discard his socks as well, leaving him completely bare on the mattress. He had a brief moment to consider Armand’s view: his sagging skin, his belly, his weird age spots, the varicose veins on his legs. Yet the look on Armand’s face as he took it all in was nothing but desire.
He followed the path back up Daniel’s body in reverse this time, kissing his way reverently up his legs until he reached his cock, sitting half-interested in a nest of wiry pubes. Armand nuzzled the length of cool velvet skin, pressing a fleeting kiss to it as well. Daniel let out a moan that was closer to a satisfied sigh than anything else, his head falling back against the pillows.
“Could you do something for me, please, Daniel?” He asked between pecking little kisses to his rapidly hardening cock. Not waiting for an answer, as he knew Daniel would obey, he continued, “Please pass me the lubricant in the top drawer of the bedside table.”
Daniel groaned. Armand was properly stroking him now, and between that and the drinks it was hard to think. Still, he reached over and fumbled for the bedside table drawer. The lube was quickly retrieved, and passed into Armand’s waiting hand, the one that wasn’t teasing him with maddening strokes.
“Thank you, sweet boy,” Armand rewarded Daniel with a kiss to the tip of his cock, tongue sliding out to collect a bead of bloody precum as it swelled forth from the slit.
Then there was the first slick, probing finger, surprisingly gentle around his rim, and Daniel groaned as he let his legs fall even wider, lifting his hips to allow his maker more room. The finger breached him slowly, and Armand pressed a kiss to his knobby knee. “You open up for me so wonderfully, Daniel,” He praised, slowly working the single digit in and out of him. “Perhaps next time I’ll purchase an anal plug just for you, to keep you open for me all night long, so I can just slide into your heat whenever I want. Fill you to bursting and then plug you back up.”
“Fuck…” Daniel groaned, his dick twitching at the suggestion. Armand was a skilled professional when it came to dirty talk. Daniel could do it, but it was all spur of the moment thinking with his dick. Armand planned what he would say, knew just what would tear him apart.
“Or maybe I could find us a club where others could fill you up and I could watch,” He mused, and wasn’t that an idea. They hadn’t done that since the 70s. There would have to be much preparation, and a careful vetting process—yet Daniel found himself shaking his head, no. “Only you, Daddy,” He groaned. He didn’t want anyone else tonight, no one else would do but his maker.
The sound of that word—Daddy—in his low, quaking timbre made Armand moan and bite his lip.
“You’re trying to distract me, devious thing,” He said, trying to regain his composure as he slid a second finger into Daniel, spreading them as he thrust. He knew where to find Daniel’s prostate, knew it like the back of his hand at this point, yet he purposely avoided it to drive his fledgling mad. He squirmed beneath him, beyond caring anymore what he looked like. All that mattered was how he felt.
“Fuck me, god, please, Daddy,” Daniel moaned, his hips jerking to meet Armand’s fingers. Just two and he had resorted to babbling, begging. Armand had planned to drag out the preparation, maybe get all the way up to four fingers, but he was finding his boy impossible to resist after spoiling him all evening.
He made quick work of slicking his cock and pushing it home, wrapping Daniel’s legs around his waist as he bottomed out into him. They moaned into each other’s mouths, sharing the same unnecessary breath, their hearts beating in perfect synchronicity. Daniel reached up, tangling his fingers into Armand’s hair, finally, tugging him into a clash of teeth and tongues, fangs bumping into fangs.
He pulled back, both of their mouths dripping blood as he began a steady, driving pace into his beloved. They both moaned wantonly with each thrust, too lost in each other to control themselves—as if that wasn’t the standard of their couplings. They got lost in each other completely each time, their bodies moving as one entity through their bond.
Daniel rocked with him, his thighs a vice around his waist. It felt as though they were barely moving, and yet he was so deep, so deep, caressing all the right angles to make the newer vampire sob.
It still wasn’t enough.
With some effort on his part, Daniel flipped their positions, Armand’s cock regretfully sliding out of him as he fell onto his back. “I want to ride you, Daddy,” He explained, rather unnecessarily, as he straddled Armand’s narrow hips, reaching back to steady his cock. He sank down slowly, groaning in satisfaction at each inch as it entered him once more, even deeper than before with the new angle. Armand gripped his hips, but didn’t guide him, let him set the pace he needed to get off.
His thighs jiggled as he bounced on Armand’s dick, his blood-heavy cock slapping against his bronze stomach. It was messy, rough, and everything Daniel could wish for.
“You are so beautiful, Daniel,” Armand couldn’t resist choking out, his eyes wide in awe of the sight above him. His only fledgling, his beloved Daniel. He would stay like this forever if it meant Daniel would be satisfied.
“Fuck, touch me, Daddy,” Daniel begged, covering one of the hands Armand had on his hips with his own. Armand obliged with his dominant hand, wrapping a secure palm around his dripping cock. He stroked him in time with his erratic thrusts, as best as he could, and soon Daniel was coming, and coming, and coming all over his hand and stomach, squeezing around his own cock and sending him over the edge nearly instantaneously.
Daniel slid off of Armand after a minute or hours, unceremoniously flopping down onto the open space on the mattress next to him. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, until daylight began to peak under the blackout curtains. Still, they made no move to retreat. They would be safe.
“So,” Daniel started after a while, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over Armand. “That really does it for you, huh? The daddy thing?”
Armand flushed, but didn’t shy away from the question. “It is…Apt, considering our relationship,” He explained, reaching up to place a hand over Daniel’s heartbeat, steady now. “Maker, lover, daddy, boyfriend. It’s all the vampiric bond.”
“We should bring it out during family thanksgiving, see how my daughters feel about that,” He teased, and Armand snorted. He never would have let Louis hear a noise so undignified. Daniel pulled the blankets out from beneath their bodies, letting them fall loosely around their hips as they settled down for the day.
“Or you could start calling me that around the paparazzi,” Armand suggested, nuzzling contentedly against the crook of Daniel’s neck, “Really get them second guessing themselves.”
“They already think I’m a pervert,” Daniel replied, allowing his eyes to slip closed. “Might as well make it interesting for them.”