Chapter Text
July 2023 (1 Year After the End of the Interview)
New York, NY
Daniel Molloy checked his watch again and scrawled his name on the inside cover of “Interview With The Vampire” for the umpteenth time that night.
“This book changed my life,” said the gender-ambiguous twenty-something he handed it back to. “I always knew there was something else out there. Something better -”
Daniel couldn’t help but scoff and raise his eyebrows over the sunglasses he now wore everywhere. “Trust me kid,” he drawled. “Vampire life has its pros and cons. Or did you miss the 300 pages of blood guts and domestic violence?”
The fan - Kai, a quick skim of his mind told him, tilted their chin up, a little offended. “Well they’re different from us. Different rules apply-”
“You could be a publicist,” Daniel interrupted. “Next.”
Kai walked off in a huff, but Daniel couldn’t bring himself to care. The reading had gone well, but he’d been doing these just about every day for six months now, and this was the last one before a longish break in his schedule. Plus it was 11:15PM, and he was starved. There hadn’t been a piece of shit bad enough to kill at the signing - mostly just misguided kids like Kai and other Strand Books regulars - so he’d have to hunt.
This might be a “two-asshole” kind of evening, he thought to himself as, at long last, he got through the queue of hopefuls, and stood up from the criminally uncomfortable folding chair he’d been trapped in for four hours.
He collected his things and Irish-goodbye’d out the side exit, already scanning the 1 to 2 mile radius for dinner - but stopped when emotions that were not his own permeated his awareness, making his stomach do a somersault.
Pride. Excitement. Nervousness. Not a little neuroticism. And a general feeling of being overstimulated. All main-lined right into him through the good old Vampire Bond.
“You can come out from wherever you’re lurking, Babe. I’m done for the night.” He said it to the air, probably looking like a crazy person to passersby (though only a 1 out of 5 crazy to the average New Yorker).
“I’m not lurking, Daniel,” a low velvet voice protested to his right. And then The Vampire Armand stepped out of a shadowy alley Daniel hadn’t even noticed. “I’m courteously waiting while you finish regaling the city’s fringe set with all our kind’s darkest secrets. You’re welcome, by the way. My security services come free with our…arrangement.”
Daniel smirked fondly and gave his maker a once-over, gaze lingering greedily on all his favorite places.
“Oh, you mean the arrangement where I fuck your brains out every night and you pretend we’re not living together?”
Armand’s face said “not amused,” but the emotions wafting off of him said “and now I’m thinking about fucking…”
“Charming,” is what his mouth settled on saying.
Eight months since they’d cut the bullshit and gotten serious - and Daniel still wasn’t used to looking at him. Like really, who looked like that? Tonight he was in a black cashmere turtleneck that hugged his lithe, muscular body and blood-red dress pants impeccably creased. The belt he wore wasn’t Gucci or Prada but some quiet-luxury textured leather thing probably twice as expensive. The shoes matched. His amber eyes glowed in the neon and halogen of the signs around them (likely the cause of his overstimulation, Daniel knew), and his hair was the way Daniel liked it. Renaissance length and free of product.
“Damn straight,” Daniel retorted with a grin, and held his arms out. “Now get over here.”
Armand was against his chest in a flash. He wrapped his arms around Daniel tightly, hungrily, treating him to what Daniel had affectionately dubbed one of his “barnacle hugs.” Fun fact about his maker: once he got over himself, Armand was actually quite clingy. Daniel didn’t mind. He did whatever the opposite of minding was, as a matter of fact. Armand was also a few inches taller than Daniel, but he leaned down to press his face into Daniel’s neck, nuzzling him there and closing his eyes against the light. Daniel rubbed his back and chuckled, low and private in his maker’s ear (though he supposed they were on display for all to see. Again - he had no fucks to give).
“Jeez babe I was gone for half a day. This gonna be one of those sentimental nights where we do it slow and watch Beaches again?”
Armand huffed and released him, brushing an errant curl out of his eyes. “Again he says, as if six times is even close to enough to pick up on all the subtleties of Bette Midler’s performance -”
“Spare me,” Daniel begged. “I’ll do a Drag Race marathon before I watch that. And only after we hunt.”
Armand smiled smally and laced the fingers of his right hand into Daniel’s left. “Yes we’ll hunt of course but first…” Another wave of apprehension and excitement radiated off him. “I have a surprise for you.”
Daniel frowned as Armand began leading him down the block. “Uh, no offense, but the last time you surprised me you ripped my throat out and I died. Not sure I’m up for Surprise Number Two.”
Armand tensed, and his excitement morphed into - guilt, shame, pain - in an instant. “This is nothing like that,” he murmured.
Daniel regretted opening his big fat mouth. Too soon, he supposed. Funny. He was angry as hell right after it happened - of course he was. Armand had fucking lunged at him the minute Louis left, feral and possessed. Changed him and then fled without a word. Who wouldn’t be pissed?!
But the anger had faded quickly.
Maybe it left when Daniel’s chronic pain melted away. Or when he realized he was stronger than he had ever been - faster, smarter, able to do things no mortal could fathom. Maybe it got lost in the ventricles of his heart that now beat with his maker’s blood - sung with his maker’s every feeling.
Daniel would never forget the first time he understood - really understood - Armand. Lying there on the concrete floor of the Dubai penthouse, a newborn monster. As Armand drank from him and then fed him the blood back, Daniel had seen his life. Not just the parts Armand chose to share aloud; his perfect summary in the gallery for Louis or his rehearsed allusions to centuries past - but all 500+ years of pain and trauma and abandonment and cruelty and insanity and terror. He saw the love - the scraps Armand had been given in return for all of his devotion and his desperate need for more - a montage of impossible choices and exploitation and tears in the dark - but also an unshakable resilience. A biting, sarcastic wit that matched his own. Deep appreciation for things that were beautiful - and Daniel was among those things he thought were beautiful. Interests and talents not a living soul knew he had - for painting. For dancing. For horticulture. For fencing. For taking apart electronics and putting them back together again. And wrapped around it all - holding him together like medieval armor - an iron will to survive.
No…Daniel had not stayed angry. Especially when he realized that Armand had consciously projected these things to him. (Why else hadn’t Louis gotten the same insights from Lestat during the process)? Anger had turned very quickly to awe. And then to something else.
But Armand’s guilt over what he had taken to calling his “regrettable lapse in judgment” was still considerable. Even though Daniel was a terrific vampire. Even though Daniel wholeheartedly rejected the idea that he was now this soulless, cursed thing - wasn’t even sure he believed in souls period. The guilt had kept him away for months until finally Daniel had screamed so loudly across Vampire Brain Radio looking for him that other immortals got annoyed and doxxed his maker’s address in Miami with a firm “now shut up or we’ll kill you, Child.”
Daniel had flown to Miami on a red-eye and simply would not leave until Armand got on a flight back to New York with him. Armand still, nominally, owned the Miami villa. But he had not returned there since.
But he might if Daniel didn’t salvage this. The guy could fly away like a bird whenever he wanted, after all.
“Hey, I know,” Daniel said, and squeezed Armand’s hand reassuringly. “I’m just busting your balls. You caught me off guard is all. What’s even the occasion?”
Armand relaxed a little and continued moving, weaving surely through the foot traffic like he’d memorized every side-street and pedestrian bridge in New York (which, Daniel realized, he probably had). “Do I need an occasion to buy you things?” He asked like he genuinely wanted an answer.
“Well, no. But -”
“And anyway, even if I do, it just so happens I have one this time. The end of your infernal book tour. Alhamdulillah.”
They had stopped in front of what looked like a small garage entrance behind a hole-in-the-wall Chinese food place. The door was sheet metal, obscuring what was inside.
“Trust me Pal, even I got sick of it by the end there.” Daniel said. “Is your surprise sesame chicken because I got bad news on the taste buds front -”
“Don’t be ridiculous Daniel.” Armand groused - and then grinned from ear to ear. Daniel loved when he did that. It warmed up his entire face. It made Daniel want to smile too.
“Catch.” Armand said, and then threw Daniel a set of keys. Well, one key. On a keychain with a swoopy “M” engraved on the front.
“Armand,” Daniel said his name like a cautious question. “What did you do…”
Armand knelt gracefully on the pavement and began fiddling with the garage door’s lock. “We may have our differences of opinion on whether this entire writing project was wise or warranted,” he said over his shoulder. “But I’ve been thinking recently that I haven’t said enough how proud I am as well. Of your work. Of the book and how you’ve carried yourself throughout this…new phase of your existence.”
Daniel raked his hand through his hair nervously. “Gee, thanks Dad.”
“Put away the self-effacing instinct for just a moment Beloved,” Armand admonished, then lifted up the garage door in one clanging, preternaturally strong pull that made the muscles of his biceps bunch. “Let me be nice. You’re always telling me I need the practice.”
An overhead light glowed to life - revealing a sleek silver sports car that looked fresh off the assembly line. For a moment, all Daniel could do was stare in open-mouthed shock.
It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen - except for the vampire who was now leaning primly against it, watchful for his reaction.
“Holy shit, Babe. You…is this…mine?”
Armand nodded, ecstatic, and began talking excitedly. “Picked it up today. Do you remember that charming car in the film about the time traveling eccentric and his student friend?”
Daniel barked a laugh and walked towards the car and his lover as if pulled by magnetic force. “Back to the Future, yeah.”
“Well you said when we watched it that you’d always wanted to drive the DeLorean and I thought, ‘that’s easy enough.’ Except it wasn’t! Did you know they stopped manufacturing them in the 80s, and all the restored ones I could find had something wrong with them. But then I discovered the McLaren and actually mistook it for one at first. They had the Artura model in silver and well Beloved it’s much faster than the DeLorean, I made sure to check with the salesperson. And it’s a hybrid, so the gas mileage will be -”
Daniel covered Armand’s mouth with his own, stopping his words. He kissed him like a senior on prom night. Like he’d had a bump of coke. Greedily and hard - the way they both craved. His knee slid between Armand’s thighs and caged him between his arms - bracing himself on the new car’s driver door, relishing the feel of the sleek metal and Armand’s cool tongue and the hardness that was beginning to assert itself between them.
After a frantic minute or two of this, Armand pulled back and smiled almost shyly. “So you like it, then?”
“Like it?” Daniel repeated incredulously, then lifted Armand up by his ass, guiding his legs around his waist, and kissed him again as he unlocked the car - his car - with a tap of his new keys. “I’m obsessed. Always been a car guy, actually. Not sure if I mentioned…”
Armand shook his head slightly, then bit his lip as Daniel rolled his hips hard into his before moving to a one-handed hold to open the passenger side door. “N-no…but it’s rather obvious. You look at cars the way I look at ships. I’m glad you’re pleased.”
“Pleased is an understatement,” Daniel emphasized as he placed his maker down carefully on the black leather seat, then got in himself on the driver’s side, hands gripping the ergonomic wheel eagerly. “Now let’s go for a ride.”
~~~
The normally 50 minute drive to Jones Beach took them 20. Armand cloaked their presence on the road, and Daniel pushed his new car to its limits, really opening her up to 200 mph on the freeway. It handled beautifully - turned on a dime and accelerated almost as fast as they could when they ran at full speed, humming under him with intoxicating horsepower.
Daniel was glad when they found three gang bangers to eat in the beach parking lot - was even gladder when Armand let himself indulge, and shared the third with him, each of them taking a wrist, staring into each other’s eyes as they drained the life out of the hypnotized drug dealer below them. Armand was eating more now that he was with Daniel. They didn’t discuss it, but Daniel suspected food restriction was part of his and Louis’s weird dynamic, and he was happy to let that shit drop. He liked his maker like this…ruddy-brown and sated, warm with the kill, eyes deepening from amber to maroon as the vessels in his corneas filled with the take of the night. They were both natural hunters. And this night, they were pack hunters.
Predictably, blood was not all they hungered for. And when it was gone, Armand shoved Daniel onto the hood of his car, still hot with its exertions, and fell to his knees.
He was still there, giving absolutely spectacular head as Daniel murmured encouragement and tried not to pull at his silky curls too hard. “Fuck…baby that’s so good…you’re so good at this…”
Not up to his usual articulation, but Daniel would like to see anyone else form coherent words with Armand’s lips wrapped around them.
“Hmmmmm” Armand hummed like the engine had, the vibrations traveling from the tip of Daniel’s cock to the root to to the front of his thighs. He deep throated him silently and expertly, tongue sliding along the underside, tonsils encasing the tip like it was nothing to him. Hell maybe it was - but it was mind-blowing to be on the receiving end. Then Armand reached up to cup his balls, and Daniel came with a low growl down his throat without so much as a warning - there hadn’t been time.
Armand swallowed every drop, cradled his hips through the aftershocks, then stood in one fluid movement and wiped his mouth demurely, leaving Daniel to get himself together.
Daniel pulled his pants back up shakily and took the cigarette Armand offered, loving how the tip glowed to life - no lighter needed. “Ok now you,” he said, and made for Armand’s belt, but the vampire shook his head and took a drag from his own cigarette.
“I’ll penetrate you when we get home,” he promised easily - obscenely. “Right now I just want to look at the water.”
Daniel nearly short-circuited. Penetrate. Home. “Um…you got it. Roger that. It’s nice, isn’t it? Never realized how night blind I was as a human. I love seeing the ocean in HD.”
Armand nodded in agreement. He was relaxed - content - and looked it. Daniel filed the image away in the iron vault of his memory. It was a rare sight.
“You know I love you, right?” He asked - blurted more like. And just like that, Armand’s calm cracked as a sliver of apprehension wormed its way inside it.
“Yes Daniel. I love you too.” And he was only lying a little. Armand’s love was intense and real. And Armand believed Daniel loved him as much as Armand could believe anyone did. The vampire bond and the security and insight it brought went both ways. But there was always that patina of fear borne from 500+ years of unfortunate evidence. That rational doubt.
Well. Daniel hoped to remedy that soon enough. He had a surprise of his own in store.
“Hey,” he said too casually. “You remember I’ll be away tomorrow night, right? I’m going to meet Louis and Lestat at the recording studio in Jersey.”
Armand scowled and put out his cigarette with a little too much gusto. “Ah yes this mysterious reunion I’m not invited to. I remember. Enjoy Lestat’s monologuing and eating vegetarian.”
Daniel bumped him with his hip playfully. “Don’t be jealous. It’s nothing bad. I swear. There are just a few things Louis and I have to work out man to man. Did…you want me to tell him anything for you?”
His maker smiled tightly. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re handling this like it’s your first divorce, and as someone who’s been on that rodeo twice, I also think it wouldn’t kill either of you to be civil. Saves money, time, and headaches.”
Armand didn’t roll his eyes exactly. But they…slid. “I’ll bear that in mind. Are you adding ‘therapist’ to your list of talents, Daniel Molloy?”
“No, but speaking of, did you ever call that one my doctor recommended? I’m not gonna stop bugging you about that -”
Armand pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were developing a headache. Drama queen. “My first appointment is next week. Sfr’Allah, you’re such a task master.”
Daniel grinned, showing his canines. “Yeah and you like it. Now unless we’re going for a dip, let’s get back. I want to make sure we get to everything on your to-do list.”