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The UV protectant glass frosting sets the penthouse in a unique purgatorial time loop. Wake with the setting of the sun, the windows clear. Sleep with the moon when the penthouse browns, dull orange keeping Louis from crumbling to ash. It’s repetitive, numbing. Louis can’t remember the last time he felt the air on his skin, the last time he cared enough to want it.
He has a letter in his drawer. It’s a few pages long, penned on the monogrammed stationary that he has far too little use for. It is hidden under some sweaters for no good reason. It only comes out after Louis endures a month of stony silence from Armand, punishment that doesn’t really punish. They don’t do much talking these days, it isn’t so much a fight as it is a slight shift of the status quo. More dinners taken alone. Louis wins this battle of wills, nonetheless, and the letter gets sent. Only a week later, Daniel Molloy is in his living room.
“You’ve grown old, Daniel.” An observation, a revelation. Sitting there on his sofa, face beautifully changed with age. Louis experiences one of his strange out-of-body moments. He thinks, I will remember this moment when Daniel leaves. When he is putting his shoes on to leave, I will remember exactly how he looks in this moment, I will remember having this exact thought. I will remember how much time I have left with him and I will realize that it is over.
His voice has changed. That surprises Louis most of all. He was expecting the gray hair and the lines in his face and even the decreased mobility but when Daniel speaks, Louis finds himself having to fight back a smile. He himself does not feel like the same person he was when he last saw his boy and yet the mirror reflects the same face, the same body that he wore when Paul died, when Claudia died, when he stepped out into the sun. Daniel is living proof. The morphing of his body, the shedding of his younger self, a mirror to Louis’s own soul. They have grown together but only Daniel shows it. He is no more the fumbling reporter that fell to his knees in San Francisco. He speaks so casually of ex-wives and daughters with difficult love, viewing his relationships through a refreshingly mortal point of view, however jaded. Louis begins to fall in love just a little bit. In love with the gravel in his voice, the tremor in his hand, the sarcasm lacing nearly every word he speaks. Falling in love, Louis realizes, with humanity all over again.
Armand has revealed himself now, they are doing the interview together. Louis doesn’t mind. It’s actually fun. He enjoys watching Daniel watch the two of them. So expressive, so human about his evident distrust of Armand. Louis knows Armand has his own… hangups with Daniel. He doesn’t know the extent and he doesn’t want to know but after a few days, they stop speaking about Daniel once they retreat to their room, electing instead to return to old habits, pretending the other doesn’t exist after they’ve satisfied their baser needs. A peculiar form of loneliness draws Louis out to the living room much earlier than usual, even before Armand is awake.
It is almost seven in the evening. The sun is still high in the sky, dulled by the tinted windows. Louis settles onto a couch cushion, pulling his legs up and curling into himself in a way he doesn’t let himself as of late. Sleep pulls at his bones but he forces himself to remain awake, lazily sipping blood straight from the blood bag and watching the Dubai skyline.
A whole lot of nothing. Buildings and buildings and buildings. No birds, no evidence of life. Every single person in the city could be dead for all Louis knows and it would make no difference. The buildings would remain the same, and Louis as well.
He would hear Daniel’s heavy footsteps even without his enhanced senses. The boy startles when he sees Louis on the couch.
“You’re up early.” He says. He has a brown paper bag in one hand, his laptop in the other.
“What’s that?” Louis asks.
“Dinner. Or breakfast, I guess.” Daniel is still hovering awkwardly by the edge of the room. “I was craving some honest American cuisine.”
“Sit.” Louis says, patting the couch. He can smell the greasiness emanating from the bag. “So, enlighten me, Daniel. What do you consider honest American cuisine? A McDonald’s hamburger? Crinkle cut french fries?”
Daniel scoffs. He settles into the armchair that Armand favors and pulls a wrapped bundle out of the bag. “Spoken like a true expat. I’m honestly offended.” He unwraps the bundle. It’s a hamburger. Louis smiles at Daniel, Daniel smiles at Louis.
Daniel eats in silence and Louis watches him chew, swallow, dab at his mouth with a napkin once in a while.
“So.” Daniel says. Louis can feel the discomfort radiating off of him. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“I enjoy watching the sun set, on occasion.” Louis answers, partially truthful. “I can’t view it in its entirety, of course. But the act of it in itself is nice.”
Daniel twists in his seat to look out of the window. The view is as stagnant as ever. It could be midnight, it could be noon. There is really no way to tell.
“Sure.” Daniel says. “I get it. I used to go to Stouts almost every weekend to watch the game. Couldn’t possibly care less about football if I tried but then I could also tell people yeah, I watched the game on Sunday.”
“Is that important to you?” Louis asks. “Iterating a love for sports?”
“I do enjoy sports, sometimes. I can get down with baseball. It was just something to say, I guess. If I didn’t have anything else to say.”
Louis, funnily enough, can’t picture a single scenario in which Daniel Molloy is at a loss for words. He nods his understanding nevertheless, extending him the same courtesy he received. Daniel has already finished his burger, wrapper wadded up and tossed back inside the bag. Louis notes his rapidly bouncing leg with some interest. Is he nervous? He wouldn’t be surprised. They haven’t spent a lot of time speaking off the record. Louis is half surprised that Daniel hasn’t opened his laptop and started to record. It warms him. Just the sight of him, a fresh mind, unpredictable, within reach. He eats hamburgers on Louis’s thirty thousand US dollar Minotti armchair and Louis doesn’t know what he’s going to say next. He feels awake, alive.
“Are you finding Dubai enjoyable?” A question coming far too late. Of course, the staff see to it that Daniel is taken care of but Mama would be rolling over in her grave. Where is Louis’s decency, his good old Southern hospitality?
“I don’t think enjoyable really applies here.” Daniel muses. “Informative, maybe. Learning a whole lot about the inner workings of a vampire household. Not so much about Dubai, really, but I’m not too miffed about that.”
“Not a fan of Dubai?”
“I’ve seen better.”
“I’m sure you have.” This comes from behind Louis. He startles but doesn’t show it, turning around to smile at Armand.
“Good morning, my love.” Louis says. Armand smiles back, eyes tight. He joins Louis, a conspicuous space between them which Louis closes by taking Armand’s hand. Daniel watches them, eyes narrowing. He opens his laptop. The interview resumes.
“Do you want to now?” Louis asks, laughing to himself. He lets himself picture it. Would Daniel be as subservient as he appeared to be nearly fifty years ago? He doesn’t doubt it. He would be taking Daniel, then, quick and dirty over the table. He wouldn’t have time to be gentle. The limitations of Daniel’s aging body would have to be ignored. The staff would be loitering outside of the dining area, acutely aware of the activities happening within and all the while, Armand would be watching the boats, serene, unaware. The idea amuses Louis as much as it intrigues him.
Daniel’s face twists, a quick thing but Louis catches it. If he was younger or perhaps less aware of his own allure, he would be offended. He takes it as mild embarrassment, however, and a light press against the confines of Daniel’s mind confirms it as such. Embarrassment is good, keep him on his toes. The last time he got too comfortable, Louis got a palm to the face.
A few minutes later, Daniel interrupts him. He does this frequently and it never ceases to irritate Louis, but this time, instead of with a question, he interrupts with a, “Um.”
He falls silent when Louis pauses. His cheeks gain color and he breaks their brief eye contact, glancing down at his laptop.
“Yes?” Louis prompts.
“Were you…” Daniel wets his lips. He is uncharacteristically hesitant. “Stop me if I’m reading too much into a joke. I’ve been told I do that, I…”
Louis waits patiently, allowing him to find his thread.
“Was your offer serious?”
“My offer?” Louis asks, just to be a little mean. He knows exactly what Daniel is talking about and suddenly, his chest burns with an excitement he hasn’t felt since… since he stumbled upon a curly haired reporter at a gay bar in San Francisco.
Daniel smiles self-depricatingly at him. “Yeah. Your thing about, do you want to now?” Before Louis can answer, he barrels ahead. “And I understand if not. I don’t want to get in the way of the marital bliss you and the wife have going -” he pulls a (seemingly involuntary) sour face “- but you offered and how many opportunities like this am I going to get, yeah?”
Louis drums his fingers on the table. Daniel shifts in his seat.
After a moment, Louis stands up and walks towards the hallway. He can’t see Daniel but he can feel the panic and shame radiating off of him and he has to fight down a grin. Right before he reaches the turn, he turns and raises an eyebrow.
“Well?” He says, inclining his head ever so slightly towards the hallway.
Daniel gapes at him and Louis begins to walk again. He hears Daniel swear quietly and the scrape of the chair being gracelessly pushed back. He catches up with Louis right outside of the door to the guest room.
“So we… in my room?”
As much as bending Daniel over a table appeals to him, the last few days have reminded him of the delicate nature of a human life. Daniel doesn’t possess the same physical capabilities he once did and Louis isn’t so cruel to ignore that entirely. Part of it is selfish. Louis wants to be held, to be comfortable. He hasn’t felt comfortable in a long time.
So he smiles a little at Daniel who in turn visibly relaxes. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Daniel mumbles, scrambling to open the door for him. They walk inside and Louis leans back against the door, shutting it.
“Get on the bed please, Daniel.” He says. He skirts his fingers under the band of his hoodie and Daniel follows the movement.
“You realize we don’t have much time, right?” Louis laughs. “Save your ogling for the interview.”
“I’m not…” Daniel shuts his mouth and walks over to the bed, perching uncertainly on the corner. Louis doesn’t allow him another second of hesitation. He is on him in an instant, pushing him against the headboard and straddling his lap. Daniel makes a low sound in his chest as Louis drops his full weight on him, his hands coming to rest on his hips.
“I want to ride you.” Louis says, unzipping Daniel’s pants.
“Fuck. Yeah, uh. Fuck.” Daniel says, his jaw slack. “Whatever you want, baby.”
“Baby.” Louis repeats. Something fond settles into his chest. He smiles.
Daniel’s dick is in his hand now, firm and leaking. They both watch Louis’s slender hand run up and down the length, barely wrapping around the girth.
“You wanna go ahead and level the playing field?” Daniel says, tugging at Louis’s pants. Louis bats his hand away.
“Patience.” He chides. “I’ll do what I wanna do when I wanna do it.” Daniel’s dick throbs in his hand at that and Louis smirks. He is still in there somewhere, his boy.
“Sure, it’s just I’m kind of dying over here.” Daniel says mournfully. “I haven’t gotten it up this fast in years.”
“Thanks for sharing.” Louis snarks. Daniel grows impossibly redder. Louis lifts himself up onto his knees and carefully unties his drawstrings, pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees.
“Fuck.” Daniel says. His hands start to inch downwards but Louis grabs them and pins them back at his waist.
“No.” He says. “Can you keep your hands still for me, Daniel?”
“Yeah,” Daniel wets his lips, “sorry.”
“No need to apologize." Louis leans forward and drops a featherlight kiss on Daniel’s nose. Daniel tilts his face upwards, practically begging for another kiss but waiting until Louis initiates. He does, meeting the younger man in a messy, open mouthed kiss that is more tongue than lips. He lets Daniel have fun with that as he positions himself over his dick, and with no warning, pushes down.
Daniel’s eyes fly open, an involuntary moan pushed into Louis’s mouth. Louis lowers himself slowly, inch by inch until he bottoms out and he’s sitting snugly in Daniel’s lap.
“Fuck.” Daniel says again.
“You’ve thought about this, yeah?” Louis asks, slowly rolling his hips downwards. Daniel’s eyes are wide, unfocused. He’s breathing heavily but he’s still breathing and Louis remembers that they don’t have time. He can’t waste it like this, in feeling.
“Understatement of the century.” Daniel breathes. “I mean, up until two minutes ago I thought we actually did fuck. I guess I’ve just been jerking off to a fantasy for the last fifty years.”
“And is this better, Daniel? Than your fantasies?”
“Uh, yeah.” Daniel says in that Daniel way of his. Louis lets him take one breath, then another.
“No moving your hands.” Louis reminds him, and then he’s rolling his hips again, slowly and then faster all at once, pleasure rocketing through his core and up to his fingertips. His dick finds a less than satisfying friction against Daniel’s shirt but something about the visual is working for him. His boy is almost in another dimension, hips snapping up to meet Louis’s downward thrusts in a way that is surprisingly agile for a man with a progressive movement disorder. His obedient hands don’t move, gripping harder and harder onto Louis’s sides and it doesn’t hurt obviously but the idea of it is delicious.
“Louis, yeah baby, so good…” Daniel is mumbling a steady stream of nothings under his breath, eyes drifting shut as he continues to fuck into Louis. Louis is doing most of the work but Daniel is doing a commendable job as well. It’s not enough for Louis.
“Eyes on me.” He says gently. Daniel’s eyes open immediately and he groans, head falling back until it thunks against the headboard. His eyes don’t leave Louis.
“You’re a fucking vision.” Daniel’s voice comes out strangled. “Fuck, Louis. You’re gorgeous.” His hips move a little differently and his dick hits the perfect spot, Louis moans. It’s loud and unfiltered and it feels so fucking good to just do it, let himself go. He pushes a hand against Daniel’s chest, using the support to chase that angle. It keeps Daniel from moving as much so it’s just Louis now, fucking himself on Daniel’s cock, wanton.
Daniel’s hands twitch against Louis’s hips, an aborted movement towards Louis’s cock.
“You’re doing so good, Danny.” Louis encourages even as the words come out stretched thin, obscene. Daniel shudders and that’s all it takes, a few words. He’s coming inside Louis, hot white stripes of real human come that Louis hasn’t felt in years.
“Sorry, sorry,” he’s mumbling even as he continues jerking up into Louis, wringing out every bit of his orgasm.
As pleased as Louis is about this, he’s still hard. He doesn’t slow down, even as Daniel’s face screws up in pain from overstimulation.
“Just a little more,” Louis gasps. He moves his other hand from Daniel’s hip to his own cock, stroking furiously. Daniel whines under him, a truly wrung out, pathetic sound. “Just… just a bit, Danny. I’m almost there, just…”
Daniel’s thighs are trembling now as Louis accelerates his pace, eyes shut. He can hear Daniel’s self-subdued protests under him, can smell his sweat, the blood under his skin, can feel him softening infinitesimally inside him.
“Please, baby,” Daniel groans and Louis is coming, blood splattering all over Daniel’s nice black shirt.
The aftershocks run through Louis as he relaxes, Daniel still inside him. He kisses him on the cheek, the nose, chaste on the lips.
“Thank you.” He whispers.
“Holy shit.” Daniel says, much louder. It makes Louis laugh. Daniel swipes a finger against the blood on his shirt and brings it up to his mouth, raising an eyebrow at Louis for permission. Louis nods even as something tells him he shouldn’t. Daniel’s mouth closes around his finger and his eyes flutter shut, sucking every last tiny particle from the skin.
Moremoremoremoremoremore, so loud Louis almost thinks Daniel said it out loud. His expression shutters for a moment but then it clears, wiping his hands on his pants. He clears his throat. “That was, I can’t believe we did that. Now. Is Armand…?”
Louis casts his mind out. “He’s on his way back. We should get up.”
“We should.” Daniel agrees.
Louis kisses him. He’s softer this time, teasing into Daniel’s mouth with kitten licks and giving as much as he gets. He brings his hands up to cradle Daniel’s face and allows him to loop his arms around Louis’s neck, pulling them impossibly closer. He tries to pour everything he can into the kiss, his gratitude, his anger, his loneliness, his love.
Finally, he pulls away and pats a dumbstruck Daniel once, twice on the cheek. “Good boy, Danny.” He says, and lifts himself up. He’s cold as he pulls his pants back up and walks back to the dining room. Armand will be back soon. The laptop is still open, but the recording is paused.