Chapter Text
He was freshly divorced from Alice, had quickly lost the custody of his kid, and Daniel was out of fucks to give. He gave into her requests easily, not wanting Kate to be caught up in this, only nine years old and far too used to dealing with her dad's particular brand of bullshit. Alice said she wanted space, so Daniel booked them a holiday, wired her the money and tried to think of anything else to keep his mind off of them because if he didn't, he would go off the deep end and be found in a drug den before the end of the night. He promised he would be good, and he had been, for the most part. No wonder the relationship went tits up.
Hence why he was at the club on a Wednesday, already getting a head start on destroying his sobriety. He simply didn't want to think, so when a few bumps were offered to him, of course he took it. He wasn't an idiot. The free shots coming from someone who looked a little too much like Alice he ignored with a false smile. Too much, too soon. He looked around for a guy to dance with instead and promptly walked back his previous thought at the man standing solitary at the other end of the bar. He looked like he had been painted into the scene, standing statuesque, surrounded by the movement of the other patrons, a study of negative space. His face was illuminated by the coloured lights from the bar, back hidden by deep shadow that seemed to swathe him. Daniel didn't think twice before pushing away from his spot and making a confident, if slightly stumbling path to the man. His presence was like a hypnotic beating thrum behind his eyes - he felt familiar?
He’s definitely not familiar. He would remember a face like that, no matter how coked out he was. He knew at this moment in time his eyes were blown wide and bloodshot, sweat trickling down his neck and beading his forehead, his gums still tasting of the bitter aftertaste that never got better - and if it did, he’d try to swing for his dealer for trying to cut his shit for extra profit - but he wasn't doing too bad yet. If he knew this person, he would never willingly forget them, or at the very least, couldn’t forget their face. The cherubic curls, the high cheekbones, the stoic set of his lips, the lashes lowered over vibrant kohl-lined orange eyes that should be tattooed in his brain lest he forget. The stranger's lips quirked into a smirk, and an eyebrow raised in his direction
"Well? Are you going to stare all night, boy?" Daniel blinked stupidly at this stranger a few paces in front of him, hidden from the rest of the room by the shadows of the wall, exuding a strong get the fuck away from me vibe to everyone around them, snapping his head in the direction of a party goer who had gotten too close to infringing on their bubble with an acidic glare of warning. A tad intense, but Daniel missed intense.
"Um, no. No, not gonna stare all night, why would I do that when you've willingly spoken to me? Sorry, I know this sounds cliche, but, it feels like I already know you, have we met before, man? My name's Daniel, I'm a journalist." He extended a hand, expecting a handshake, and instead was gently pulled forward by his hand and had a worshipful kiss ordained upon it.
Fuck. He might just swoon.
"I don't think we have had the pleasure of meeting before this, unfortunately. How fascinating that we meet this night with such strong feelings of precognition, of a past life, even? It must surely be fate, no?" The stranger laughed at Daniel's shocked expression and mockingly tapped the underside of his jaw with his free hand as if to say close your mouth, or you'll catch flies, Daniel. But that would be crazy, this person doesn't know his name and more than that, it would be nonsensical for him to hear his words in his brain when he hadn't moved his lips at all.
Daniel felt dizzy, feeling a flush travel hot down to his collar. But, fuck, who even talks like that? His eyelids fluttered closed in a few slow blinks, and he squeezed the hand before letting it go and dropping his hand to this guy's hip, stepping into the guy's space so he could almost speak at a normal volume instead of trying to yell over the music.
"So if we're bound by fate, what's my soulmate's name? I've shown you mine; you show me yours?" He felt the guy shiver under his words, turning to press a sharp kiss against Daniel's lips, full of smiling teeth. A hand suddenly appeared at the base of his skull to tug him in further, the kiss now leading with a dominating tongue and a pleased sigh when Daniel relaxed into the kiss, responding with sloppy but enthusiastic participation. He pulled away from the kiss, biting Daniel’s lip and drawing him after him like a dog on a leash. The man leaned next to his ear, mirroring Daniel’s earlier position, and spoke what felt like directly into his brain, the words muting the music temporarily.
"You ask of my name? It is Armand, soulmate.” Armand stroked his sweaty face, pressing a chaste kiss to the pulse point on his neck and blinking up at him innocently with his deep amber eyes - was he imagining the orange contacts? “I come across as presumptuous, I know, but would you like to vacate the premises with me, soulmate?" God, what is he, a psychopath or a theatre nerd? Was he practising a Hamlet monologue before coming? Who fucking speaks like that, he thought desperately, immediately distracted by his hand reaching down and grasping the front of Daniel's jeans, where he was already tenting the fabric, thoughts be damned, and Daniel practically melted into him, shuddery and whiny when Armand started to trail his sharp fingers up and down the zipper of his jeans, the glittering of several jewelled rings winking at him in the low lighting. He was thinking of making a joke about small hands, but looking at the sharp little claws he probably spent ages filing into their deadly points; he decided to keep silent. Would that be another point for psychopath or theatre nerd? Daniel mentally shrugged and put a tally in each column.
Instead, he decided to think about how they would feel fingering him. Would they scratch him? Would Armand rake them up and down his back and leave deep gouges for Daniel to remember him by? Scrape up his throat, making him gag on them? God, he hoped so, they were kind of really doing it for him. He hoped he was mean.
"Unless .. Of course, if you wished, we could bring this to the dance floor. See how long you last, but I do find myself wanting to spread you out on my hotel bed, at some point tonight, soulmate." Armand shrugged like the choice was simple, but Daniel was horny after nine years, and how could his new soulmate possibly make him choose when both choices sounded so good? Daniel didn’t want to pick, and was about to say so like a brat, before a distracting pair of lips started pressing more wet kisses onto his neck, rucking up his shirt to press hands to the bare skin of his waist. He was obviously taking too long to choose, so Armand had found some other part of his body to occupy him until he picked one.
Yeah. Yeah, okay. He can go along with whatever this ends up leading to, absolutely, weird soulmate roleplay be damned. Armand obviously had a plan, he should just submit to his desires and ride the wave. Daniel tilted his head back, groaning when Armand immediately started working on a hickey where his lips planted themselves, unwilling to part from the freely exposed skin - and hadn’t this been what Daniel wanted when he dressed to leave tonight? A shirt only buttoned in theory, tucked into his tightest jeans that he totally wasn’t regretting by how his dick pressed against the zip, giving him a sharp bite of pain to bring the sensations to a sweeter height.
“Shit, man, if you keep on doing that, I’m not gonna be able to pick either option. Choose one for me, I can’t think with your mouth on me right now, baby.” His eyes had slid shut involuntarily, missing the predatory look that crossed Armand’s face. A hand slid supportively under his upper back and dipped him low to the sticky bar suddenly. Armand loomed above him when his eyes flew open in shock, and Daniel found himself wondering through a syrupy thick brain how they hadn’t been at least given a warning to take whatever this was outside, before Armand distracted him again, looking down at him with an uncomfortable looking head tilt that made him think of predator animals.
“You would so recklessly let me choose? I will choose both, and be glad of the chance to spoil my boy, my new soulmate, as you said.” Armand graced him with another devouring kiss, pressing him further into the bar, allowing him to try and squirm against Armand, but giving him no chance at leverage, leaving him no relief, his grip ironclad for such a small thing. The bands of his rings another layer of immovable sensation that he missed. Daniel hadn’t worn his wedding band in four years, and Alice hadn’t worn hers for longer. Their marital bed had been a cold war for at least five years now. Armand ground his hips in a languid move against Daniel's hips, a sweet compromise, before leaning away, hands the only contact once more.
“Shit, I don’t know, man, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this-” he was cut off by a giddy laugh and Armand deciding to lead him upright and towards the dancefloor, grip not loosening in the slightest. Daniel was lost momentarily in the points of contact, and when he looked back up he was graced with a small sharp smile. Armand wiggled his fingers, and Daniel blushed as he released the ham-handed fist he had been making, and held his hand like normal people do.
“Well, when you say it like that, how am I meant to restrain myself? All the better, I will have to spend the night spoiling you with the passions of the flesh.” Armand slid his eyes up and down Daniel’s body in a slow once over. “I wish to see if humiliation befits you, you would be delightful begging to be on your knees for me, soulmate." The image of himself on his knees for Armand were too good, he could restrain his hands, control his motions, fuck his face, or he could hold him down, make him beg for anything, he would do it. Woah, okay that went from ten to a hundred, slow down before you fucking cream your pants like a teenager, idiot. His grip tightened again on impulse, shakily moaning. The imagined feelings of strong hands forcing him to heel and then keeping him there swam lazily around his head still, refusing to fully part from him.
Armand led him into a twirl, bringing his back to Armand's chest. He leaned down to hook his chin over his shoulder, and spoke in his ear again, the words clear and audible as though spoken directly into his mind again. "I wonder, Daniel Molloy, how many times can I bring you to ecstasy tonight? Will you break under the pleasure? I hope you do, I’m sure it would be most beautiful to take you apart and put you back together in my image." Armand pressed a kiss to his temple and licked along the sweat trails there, raked his teeth along his hairline and nipped his ear. Armand’s hair was draped over his neck, and he felt lost already, stood there shivering and panting, hornier than he’d been for years, held in place by Armand’s strong hands, and dick hard enough to pound nails.
I’d be surprised if I lasted longer than five minutes the way I’m acting like a bitch in goddamn heat. His head fell back onto Armand’s shoulder, and he moaned as Armand’s hand found its way to his nipple, pinching meanly and massaging the flesh, grinding his own erection into his ass. He blinked stupidly into the crowd around him and saw others eyeing the two of them, jeering at the display and circling like sharks. All Daniel could do was look pathetically at them as he hung off Armand like a kept thing, groped and manoeuvred for his pleasure, and hope no one decided to take it as an open invitation to join in.
He did not see the warning glares Armand sent their way, but he saw that the circle never closed in on them
“How are you even real? Fuck.” Armand’s eyes flash golden under the fog of nicotine smoke and flashing lights, and his hand drags Daniel tighter, closer, the friction was good, but it could be better- They moved to the beat of the music as though under a spell, and Daniel felt a dopey smile grow on his face.
“Are you quite sure I am, Daniel Molloy?” but his question was lost in the sounds around them. And Daniel would have been too far gone to question the fact that he never told Armand his full name anyway.
Armand stared at the crowd gathered around them, and he reached down to cup his boy possessively again, daring anyone to try and come closer, see what he might do. Armand spun Daniel around so they were face to face and slotted his leg between Daniel’s for him to rut against. How quickly, he wondered, could he make this encounter? Did he want to rush this moment? They had so few these days, and always as strangers - he made sure to ignore that insidious voice in his head that asked him whose fault it was that his time with Daniel was numbered. It would last as long as Daniel lasted, and Armand decided and he would parade him to the exit, making sure everyone knew he was his and no one else should dare think there was even a chance. His eyes slid away from his little pet project, upturned in rapture, to dive into others’ psyche around them, stroking the flesh of his hip, absentmindedly digging his thumbnail in occasionally. Some appreciated them separately, a jealousy of one or the other, the thought of stealing out himself or Daniel for themselves as though any of them could ever be as interesting as his boy. Most minds clouded with the desire to conquer and overpower the two of them together - a fantasy that never seemed far from men’s thoughts. The mighty over the many, the big over the small, the strong over the weak. Armand ground those thoughts into a fine dust and pushed the potential aggressors firmly away. He wanted only for voyeurs this night, no third party would be invited and they would be pleased to see as much as he was allowing.
He did not think he would invite a third party into their bed for a long time. Alice was their last in a line of thirds to be taken by or to take Daniel and to serve as sustenance for himself. It was easy, it was routine, Armand picked out a person from a crowd, for their actions, for their flirtations, for their clothing - it mattered not, they were to be there only as proxy, as an appetiser even, next to the feast that was Daniel Molloy. To be used and consumed and immediately discarded, no longer to be thought about. Daniel's time with Alice marked his time spent pining for his boy from afar while he ruined his marriage, and while Louis ignored their own companionship was his own fault entirely. If only he had not chosen Alice that night to join them, if only he had simply drained her, instead of taking pity on her for her likeness to him, if only, if only. No matter. What has been, has been, and Armand had forced himself to take a break as it were, had given them a chance to be a normal family.
But how could they be a normal family with Daniel Molloy within it? Strange hours, flighty obsessions, chasing stories, chasing drugs, chasing stories about drugs, he was barely home. And when he was home it was to work, recuperate, drop off cash and run away from responsibility again, playing house for weeks out of the year, and leaving Alice with their newborn, their toddler, their child. Missing first steps, first words, first recitals, Kindergarten family portraits not including a daddy. Their normal family included a cold growing resentment in Alice, so isolated from what once was her life, having moved for Daniel, given him her child, her health, her life, and for what? An empty apartment and an apology cheque?
And Armand realised too late that it would have been easier for everyone involved to simply have drained Alice the night they fucked her, and continue to live their life as before. He had decided when Alice called to say she was pregnant, looking into Daniel’s eyes that he needed to forget to have the chance of normality. If his memories of their life together were still in his mind, he would have to choose, and Armand would be abandoned again, like always, always left behind- And so Daniel’s memories were suddenly his and he was left to watch and wait from outside the picture as Daniel’s overwhelming love, devotion, lust, sheltered him. Waiting started to grow a sickness within him. He started seeing his boy and keeping the memories all to himself. He planned to do so once the morning came even after Alice ended things at last.
Daniel’s scrabbling fingers tugged him into reality and Armand stared intensely at his boy. His boy finally back in his arms and he barely even had to think up a lie to accompany it. A modern marvel indeed. Daniel's hands had rushed to grip at Armand’s shoulders for stability and he was moaning beautifully into his shoulder, clearly audible to him under the music, but thankfully muffled for the mortals still circling hungrily. They did not deserve anything from Daniel, they would receive nothing of him, not after he was finally free of Alice. There was no guilt clinging to him tonight and he smelled all the better for it. Armand nuzzled back into the junction of Daniel’s shoulder and inhaled deeply, a smile growing unknown on his face as he ground the meat of his thigh harder into Daniels groin, wishing not for the first time that it was already the slick slide of naked flesh against his boy, that he could feel the sweat, the heavy dampness, taste the salt heavy on his tongue. This, however, was not that kind of establishment - simply more tolerant of gay men and women than usual, and he had to limit himself to the constraints of clothing.
“Shit, fuck, fuck fuck-” Daniel started grinding with a new fervour and Armand could smell the pre wetting Daniel’s underwear. How long, he wondered, would it take for that to stain the front of his jeans? Would Daniel react as beautifully as he once did, would he come apart in the same ways or would Armand get to rediscover every call and response of his boy? But looking at his strung out expression, he suspected Daniel would not last long. He could expedite the process, he was sure. Daniel used to be a leaking faucet whenever they were out together, used to be wet enough when they got to the bathroom, the alleyway, their hotel, that Armand used to call him his girl instead, fingering her cunt and getting her loose enough to slide home. Daniel smelled just as wet now, he could feel the moisture being ground into his own slacks.
"Fuck this is crazy." Armand heard Daniel mutter under his breath, shaking his head in the disbelief of his own actions as though he has not done more debasing things with Armand in more public settings before. He is famous in clubs in Berlin he will never go to and will never remember why.
Armand grasped his boy's ass, rolling against him and grinding him harder upon his leg, watching with delight as his newly appointed soulmate drooled onto his silk shirt. Truly, if it were anyone but Daniel, he would kill them for this transgression. He had killed just last month for a truly egregious taste in music, he was considering the merits of hunting down these so called Pet Shop Boys to punish them for putting such music into the world. Judging by the current information he found, it did not seem like they were boys at all either. Lying to the public and putting bad music into the world, now if he could only find their building of residence ..
Daniel thankfully interrupted his thoughts by gasping beautifully and shuddering his completion, clawing raggedly at his clothed arms with his weak blunt human nails, always bitten down to the quick in a nervous habit that was better to Armand than his finding a new chemical to inject or ingest to try and soothe the malaise cocktail of substances already there. Armand watched with a silent delight as a visible dark patch bloomed on his jeans and brushed his thumb against a tear threatening to fall down his ruddy cheek, stroking his hair in his other hand.
“Now thank me for letting you get off on my leg, Daniel.” Daniel blinked up at him like a lost pup, causing Armand to fist his hair suddenly in his unforgiving grip, giving into temptation and placing the thumb in his mouth that had so lovingly collected Daniel’s tears. He could taste the frustration built up from the divorce proceedings, the release of his orgasm, the desire soaking his thoughts and making him sluggish and stupid. He hummed around the digit, smile still in place and gently shook Daniel’s head side to side by his hair like he was a silly doll.
“What?” Ah. The tears were recollecting again. Would Armand be able to make him cry before even laying him out all pretty on the hotel bed he had booked for them?
“I said, say thank you, like a good boy, Daniel. Don’t you want to be good for me, my little soulmate?” Daniel gulped in large amounts of air, like he was drowning without it, and licked his lips nervously. He looked up at him with his big green eyes, before letting his nerves get the best of him and flicking his eyes to the crowd around him, not jostling them and all looking through them as though they were not there. They were unimportant now, a mindless, anonymous crowd to witness Daniel’s suffering and understand nothing of it. Anything Daniel wanted to say to him in this place would be held sacred to them alone, Armand would not allow others to pry, but their presence was enough, Daniel had remembered they were in a crowded club in New York, and not in his rented one room apartment. Daniel whimpered before anointing Armand with his gaze again, failing to blink back his tears. Armand dipped into his mind, being bombarded with Fuck this is so hot, and half dreamed images of what he would look like fucking into Daniel, asking him to thank him the whole time, smoothing back his hair from his face, keeping him safe, but his gentle hand is once more a fist in his hair, his nails are digging in, in, and his voice is cold as he commands him to submit for - for who? Somehow Armand’s own words floated to the surface of his thoughts, from San-Francisco, draped in a golden haze of half-memories and his honeyed voice, the whole memory slightly to the left as though it knew it wasn’t meant to be in his beloved’s head anymore.
“An ugly duplex back in Modesto. A job in an office with drab carpets and flickering lights. A woman in the mould of your mother, vacuuming on valium. A genteel drinking problem, like your father. Your wife counting down your thrusts. Rest.” not the mould of his mother, no, but the name, the role, the fantasy .. Armand’s own face, calling him his boy. He slipped out of his mind; he could fill that role and enjoy it. Does Daniel know this yet though? Likely not, his boy usually only had a surface level understanding of his desires at best. Mommy. How very American.
“Thank you”
“Thank you mommy. Say it, my Daniel. Don’t you want to be a good boy for mommy? Don’t you want to thank me for taking care of you, boy? I let you get off so graciously, I even let you ruin my slacks, maybe I should be punishing you for that if you can’t even be grateful. It will be a hassle to get them dry cleaned. Maybe I should make you lick them clean, hmm?”
Daniel's knees gave out and he leaned heavily against Armands leg, holding him up still as though it was the easiest thing in the world, as though he could hold him up for hours. He moaned in pain at the contact to his dick, grinding unconsciously into Armand’s thigh, making an even bigger mess of his own pants and Armand’s, looping his arms heavy and ungainly around his neck again.
“Thank you m-mommy, sorry mommy.” With each repetition of the name, Daniel became more confident in his desires, as he always did. Thoughts, dreams, desires crystalising, becoming real, a truth spoken into existence with his words.
Armand smiled coldly. “Thank you for what, baby?”
Daniel sniffed wetly, sweat slicking his body, tears falling freely. “Thank you for letting me get off on your leg, mommy.”
Armand smiled, wide and warm, helpless but to let his fangs drop. “You’re welcome baby.” He could tell that his eyes, pretending for a time as they had been at a passable human colour for a while, were burning now, a radioactive hue that screamed get away, dangerdanger, but he did not care to hide anymore, afterall, his boy was back in his arms, leaning on him like he could take the burden of the world from him, sobbing quietly into his shoulder, what more could he want?