Chapter Text
Daniel doesn’t regret rolling around in the snow with Armand. There probably isn’t anything they could do together that Daniel would actually regret—not things of the cute and sappy variety anyway. However, the rest of the walk back to Daniel’s hotel in wet, freezing clothing is unpleasant to say the least. Armand offers to fly them both, but Daniel still isn’t all that sold on being in the passenger seat of the Cloud Gift. Not because he thinks Armand would drop him; he knows that he wouldn’t. Daniel’s just quietly afraid of heights. Besides, the hotel is only a few blocks away, and they can still vamp speed their way there. Even with vamp speed, by the time they burst through the door of Daniel’s room, Daniel is shivering.
“I thought I’d be impervious to the cold, now I’m technically dead,” Daniel says as Armand herds him into the bathroom, tugging his leather jacket off him in the process.
“You heard Louis tell the tale of his Romanian holiday. You know vampires feel the cold,” Armand says. “Perhaps if you wore more than a leather jacket you wouldn’t be so affected,” he adds with a smirk.
“Says the guy wearing a blouse made of tissue,” Daniel replies, toeing off his shoes and pulling off his socks.
“Does my choice of attire not please you?” Armand asks, reaching into the shower and turning the water on hot, filling the room with steam.
“Oh, it pleases me a whole fucking lot,” Daniel says, tugging at Armand’s hips to pull him back to him. He wraps Armand up in his arms and bumps their noses together. “Although right now, I’m a little more interested in what’s underneath. Everyone knows the best way to deal with hypothermia is a little skin-to-skin contact.”
Armand looks at him, fondly exasperated. “You don’t have hypothermia, Daniel.”
“Can I have the skin-to-skin contact anyway?”
Armand smirks again, his graceful fingers working deftly over the buttons of Daniel’s shirt. “You’re diabolical.”
“Hey, I learned from the best,” Daniel replies with a lopsided smile that almost feels boyish.
He allows himself to be reverently undressed, then he peels Armand out of his flimsy purple blouse thing—which is drenched thanks to Daniel’s errant snowball. Then they shed the rest of their clothes before slipping into the blissful warmth of the steaming shower.
Daniel moans obnoxiously loudly at the feeling of hot water sliding over his skin, defrosting him from the inside out. Armand slips his hands around Daniel’s middle, presses their bodies flush together, and rests his head on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel’s arms fold around Armand’s body like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and they stay there—environmental disasters that they are—holding each other, and allowing the hot water to wash over them and run down the drain.
Armand turns his head and presses a kiss against Daniel’s neck. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he murmurs.
“You haven’t been eating properly, have you?” Daniel says, his palms running up and down, between Armand’s shoulder blades, over the curve of his lower back. “Was Raglan your first proper meal in…”
“A while,” Armand whispers. “Yes.”
“How long is a while?”
“I…” he turns his head back down and buries his face in Daniel’s shoulder. “I haven’t hunted properly since the last time you and I did it together.”
“Babe, that was eighteen months ago!” Daniel tries for scolding, but misses by a mile, holding him even tighter. “It’s a wonder you didn’t starve to death.”
“I’m very old, Daniel, it would take more than that to kill me.”
“You’re not that old, babe,” Daniel says. “I’ve seen Talamasca files now, I know you’re practically a teenager in vamp years.”
“I ate animals. And took little drinks. Only enough to sustain myself.”
Daniel threads his fingers in Armand’s damp curls and guides Armand’s face back to his throat. “Eat. Now. I had plenty before the party.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, babe, do it,” Daniel says. “You’re gonna need the energy, old man, I told you.”
Armand snort laughs, which is something he only ever does around Daniel. Something only Daniel can make him do. “Very well, beloved. I suppose I can’t argue with that.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can,” Daniel says. “You just shouldn’t.”
At first Daniel only feels the soft press of Armand’s lips over his pulse point. Gentle, questing kisses up and down the column of his throat, followed by teasing, hungry nibbles with blunt teeth. Daniel’s already half hard and groaning as Armand tortures him mercilessly, licking droplets of water from his skin.
“Would you just bite me already?” Daniel says, hoping to sound petulant and demanding, but landing a little more in the range of desperate and horny.
Armand chuckles against his skin. “So impatient.”
And there it is, the sharp sting of Armand’s fangs in his neck, just as intense, just as erotic as the first time it happened over half a century ago.
“Fuck…” Daniel groans, his hands sliding down over the swell of Armand’s ass.
He takes two handfuls and pulls their hips closer together, feeling where Armand is growing hard too. Armand’s got one hand twisted in Daniel’s curls, the other cupping his chest, massaging the soft flesh. He rolls one of Daniel’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and Daniel hisses. The swoon of being sipped from has always been the sweetest high.
Daniel feels the moment his wound closes up, and Armand licks over it until Daniel is practically bursting at the seams. They’re both hard and leaking where their cocks are trapped together between their bodies. Armand rocks against him, still kissing over his neck.
“Need you, beloved,” he pants against Daniel’s skin, rocking his hips, seeking more.
Daniel groans, his eyes rolling back. “Yeah… okay… ah… fuck. How do you want me, babe?”
Armand turns around in Daniel’s arms and braces himself against the tiled wall with one hand, bending forward slightly. He pushes his ass out behind him with a sinful arch of his spine, and Daniel nearly comes on the spot.
“Fuck… yeah… yes… okay,” Daniel rambles, running one hand down the sloping, smooth curve of his back, his eyes devouring the vision of acres of smooth dark skin, speckled with hot droplets of water.
Daniel wants to lick every single one off him. But Armand is panting and wiggling his hips with more intention against Daniel’s hard, aching cock, and Daniel knows better than to make him wait.
Well, kinda. Lestat might be the brat prince, but Daniel is like… a brat duke or something.
Daniel summons a bottle of lube from the bathroom sink because, yeah, he’s been feeling lonely lately. Then he starts diligently and deliberately working Armand open with his fingers.
“Ohhhh… beloved… ah.” God, he sounds so good.
It’ll never cease to amaze Daniel, the fact that he knows how to play Armand’s ancient and powerful body like an instrument, making him sing with all sorts of sweet and deliriously pleasured sounds. Even now, they echo off the tiles and thickly flood the bathroom like steam, and Daniel is so hard it hurts.
Eventually, the sweet little noises grow and warp into a frustrated growl, and Armand reaches a hand back to swat at whatever part of Daniel he can reach, which happens to be his forearm.
“Would you just fuck me already?” He grits out, echoing Daniel’s words from earlier.
Daniel wants to laugh, but he’s so mind-numbingly horny that his brain won’t let him. So, he slicks up his cock instead and finally sinks into the tight heat of his maker’s body.
They both groan with relief, and Armand drops his head with a breathless: “Yes…”
Daniel has to pause for a minute, so he doesn’t lose it the second he’s fully seated. “Fuck…”
But clearly Armand gets a little impatient, because it isn’t long before he drags himself forward and then pushes back, fucking himself on Daniel’s cock.
“Daniel…” he whines.
Daniel has to bite the meat of his own palm to keep from coming.
“Jesus fuck,” Daniel groans, his hands roaming over the curve of Armand’s hips.
His eyes are riveted to where Armand is moving, swallowing up Daniel’s length with his body, chasing his own pleasure from Daniel’s.
Fuck, it’s a good thing Daniel has that fledgling libido.
Armand growls, lifting his head. “Do I have to do everything myself, Daniel?”
Although the choked out, obvious arousal in his tone sort of undercuts the message.
Daniel grits his teeth and rolls his hips, meeting Armand’s movement, and isn’t that just the best feeling in the world.
They set a pace together, which at first is a little uncoordinated and messy, but which eventually settles into something urgent yet harmonious, as they give and take in equal measure. Daniel’s been desperate for this for eighteen months and evidently, so has Armand.
Daniel wraps one arm around Armand’s chest and pulls him up, pressing his back against Daniel’s front. He squeezes a pectoral, thumbs over his nipples, gives them biting little pinches, all while Armand pants and moans in his grip, his head thrown back against Daniel’s shoulder, Daniel pressing kisses along his jaw and down his neck.
Armand reaches back and threads his fingers in Daniel’s hair again, tugging it.
“Please… Daniel… oh… I need…” he breaks off with a whine.
“What do you need, baby?” Daniel pants against his neck.
“Touch me… please… fuck…”
And Daniel doesn’t need to be told a second time. He slings his other arm low around Armand’s hips and wraps his hand around his length. Armand gasps at the first touch, his hips bucking forward into Daniel’s fist before pushing back on his cock.
Daniel is going to lose it any second. He feels totally consumed by Armand right now. Every sense heightened, every nerve singing, pleasure and ecstasy coiling deep and tight in his gut.
Armand’s noises reach a fever-pitch, and his body goes rigid in Daniel’s arms, tight like a bowstring. His back arches, his lips part, his claws on one hand make a horrendous scraping sound against the tile, the claws of the other draw blood on Daniel’s forearm. He cries out as he comes with such a force, if Daniel wasn’t preternaturally strong it would have knocked them both over. He clenches down impossibly hard around Daniel as Daniel grinds in deep, seeking his own release.
Daniel pants heavily against the nape of Armand’s neck, his fangs dropping, but resisting every urge to bite down.
He wants to. He wants to, so fucking bad. But he’s not about to drink from Armand right now, only having just got a decent meal in him.
“Fuck…” Daniel grunts, pleasure shooting up his spine, heat running through his limbs, his brain oozing out his ears, as his climax hits him and he marks his maker so, so deep.
Armand goes lax in his arms, and Daniel holds him even tighter, so he doesn’t collapse entirely. He can feel Armand’s heartbeat reverberating through his body and Daniel’s. It’s perfectly in sync with Daniel’s own.
Daniel holds him there for an environmentally irresponsibly long time, swaying him gently, still buried inside him, stoking over his chest and his stomach, kissing over his neck and his jaw. He doesn’t break the moment until Armand does, wriggling around in his hold to face him, the two of them groaning when Daniel slips out of him.
Armand leans in and kisses him, slowly and thoroughly, humming happily against his lips.
“Will you drink from me, Daniel?” Armand breathes.
“No, babe, not tonight,” Daniel says, taking his face between his hands.
Armand makes a petulant little sound and pouts. Maybe he’s a brat duke too. Maybe a brat marquess.
“I just replenished you,” Daniel says with a chuckle, stroking his cheek with the back of his knuckles and tucking a loose curl behind his ear. “Tomorrow night we’ll go out hunting together, and then I’ll drink from you to your heart’s content.”
Armand huffs. “Fine.”
Daniel runs his hands back down over Armand’s body. They land on the small of his back, and he pulls their hips tighter together. “What about tonight I get you off to your heart’s content as a consolation prize?”
Armand purses his lips. “I suppose that will be acceptable.”
“Oh, only acceptable, huh?” Daniel says with a hint of fang and a squeeze of Armand’s ass. “Well, maybe I take it back.”
Armand hits him with the big eyes. “I didn’t say acceptable, I said exceptional.”
Daniel laughs and pulls him into a hug. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
They finish washing up, then bundle each other in fluffy white towels. It’s a wonder they get through drying each other without succumbing to more fooling around. They don’t bother to dress before falling into bed, curling up under the warm covers and gluing themselves to each other until there isn’t a sliver of light between them.
Armand tucks his head underneath Daniel’s chin, resting it on his chest, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. Daniel wraps him up in his arms and tangles their legs together.
“That’s so you can’t run away from me again,” Daniel says, pressing a kiss to his curls.
“I’m very strong, Daniel,” Armand murmurs against his chest. “If I wanted to run away I could, very easily.”
Daniel’s stomach does a little flip. “And… uh… do you want to run away?”
“No,” Armand says, turning his head and kissing Daniel’s chest.
“Good,” Daniel says. “Because I need you. And I want you. And I love you.”
“Are you certain?” Armand whispers, his fingers mindlessly toying with one of Daniel’s curls.
Daniel nudges Armand’s forehead with his nose, coaxing him to look up at him. Daniel gazes down at those warm honey eyes.
Fuck, he’s just got to kiss him. So, he does. “Yeah. I am”
Armand smiles, which is probably the eighth wonder of the world or something. “I love you, too, my beautiful boy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”